Some Idiot Stole My Shovel

I just finished watching the gold medal game in the World Juniors hockey championship. It was a fantastic game, as most juniors games in recent years have been, except for the fact that USA won in overtime.

Having been robbed of some Canadian pride, I ventured outside to clear the driveway of snow, which is a tested and true method of reclaiming my zen. Turns out, some jackass had made off with my best shovel, bought just last year. I live in a neighbourhood where you wouldn't think you would need to lock up your shovels... I leave Mutant Winter unlocked on the porch all winter long. I leave the car unlocked most of the time, much to the annoyance of Mrs. Rantwick.

I wish they had stolen my crappy car. Stealing a man's shovel is more than a $20 loss. They robbed me of my right to a traditional heart attack, my ability to catch up with my neighbours snow clearing efforts and my ability to recover from a horrible hockey loss. Shame on you, shovel pincher, shame.

I hope that excellent shovel was taken by a member of some poor family with a frail granny who could not leave the house thanks to uncleared snow, because if it wasn't, the person who took it is just a dork.

I'll try to shovel some more your way soon,

R A N T W I C K

I Finally Got Some

Snow. I got some snow a few days ago. I saw the snow begin to fall the night before and knew that the forecast was calling for more. Despite having stayed up late, I got up early next morning. Eureka!

No work. Good snow. -11 C. Perfect. I made my way to bike paths that were the direct opposite of my commute routes. The snow was fresh, there were some footprints but no bike tracks, and everything looked beautiful, at least to me.

Riding in powder is kind of like running in sand. It feels good, but it is tiring. I overdid it, riding in the deep snow and working harder than I have in a very long time. I have read about serious cyclists "bonking" during a ride. You may have noticed how slowly I was riding near the end of that video. Shortly after that, I bonked. In my excitement to get riding I had skipped breakfast and that hurt me for sure. My version of bonking included getting off the bike and walking because I was afraid my heart might explode and losing the helmet and goggles because I was overheating badly. After catching my breath, I was able to ride for about 20 more minutes in the deep stuff.

The usual beauty of riding among trees and beside the river is heightened by the snow's muffling effect. There is almost no sound from the bike. My breathing, birds and the sound of rippling water are all I hear, except when I try to resume my ride and nearly fall over:

I hope none of the birds were offended.

I rode the return leg home on the street, which seemed ridiculously easy compared to the trail. It had re-schooled me in bike handling on snow in a hurry. Another big snowfall is happening as I write this on New Year's Day. I am looking forward to the challenges of street commuting now that winter has finally arrived in London Ontario. Happy New Year everybody!

Yer Pal,

R A N T W I C K