April…we’re told to expect showers, but since we’ve had them all along, it was only fair to wake up this morning to a frighteningly clear sky. There was NOT. ONE. CLOUD. We’ve been threatening to go outside and “do something” as soon as the nice weather arrived, and with the clearing of the clouds, we made an immediate break for the out of doors.
It was probably because of the pictures.
A friend of ours passed along a link to some gorgeous pictures of the open space near our townhouse at home, and our thoughts were suffused with longing for fields of mustard and sunny, paved roads perfect for bikes with fat tires. Never mind that the temperature outdoors was 5°C — we were going out.
Once T. got over her initial rustiness on the beach cruiser bike, we left our neighborhood and crossed into — traffic. Busy city that Glasgow is, eight-thirty on a weekend morning still means cars whizzing past on the main roads. This terrified T., whose first “driving” experience in the UK has now been to ride a bike in traffic — “Backwards!” as she kept wailing. Fortunately it was only for a block and a quick crossing ’til we got onto a quieter street and into the covered bridge over the freeway. With only a minor accident at the bottom of the bridge, T&D made it safely to the waterfront trail and begin to ride in earnest.
Unfortunately, Glasgow had been out the night before in earnest, and the bike trail was covered in glass. We decided to head away from the massive Kingston Bridge and the M8 and back towards Glasgow Harbor, which turned out to be a good choice. The paved road made a welcome change from cobblestones, and the hotels along the quay had kept the trail swept. By this time, though, clouds were moving in, and a sneaky breeze had turned into a full-force wind, which we were riding into. And, we couldn’t feel our eyes, ears, noses or hands. (You know you’re cold if you’re having trouble blinking.)Sixteen mile an hour winds made it feel like it was thirty-five degrees out! We decided to race home while the sun was still shining.
Another minor accident at the other end of the bridge caused joggers to ask if she was okay, and T. to walk her bike the rest of the way home (grumbling about the bruise on her backside — one thing about cruiser style bikes — the brakes are in the pedals — but if it’s been wet out, then one’s feet slip off of them!). We arrived home so cold T. had no sensation in her thighs, and when we got into the building, the shiny silver handlebars dulled with condensation as cold metal met warmer air!
The clouds are massed in their usual gray bunches now, but for a moment, we had proof that it is, somewhere, in fact, Spring.
— D&T
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