Well, I wanted to allay your fears and let you know that I arrived safely without any major incidents, although there is a minor one that bears repeating. While the city of Boise plows the Green Belt which I ride each morning, the wooden bridges remain untouched. As I approached the first wooden bridge in my six-mile trek to work in front of one of only five pedestrians I saw this morning, it dawned on me what those signs near bridges in the south meant.One of the biggest waste of tax payers money in Dixie are the signs that read, "Bridge ices before road." Given the fact that it gets cold enough to ice over a bridge about as often as the Cubs win the World Series, the signs might as well read, "Bridge wet when raining." However, as I approached the bridge, my back tire started sliding furiously to the right while my front tire disagreed and insisted left was the best direction to go. Then there was me, caught in the middle of a petty little tire fight with nothing to do but hold on. Fortunately, the two came to a resolution before I ate the bridge for breakfast.
For all of you out there expressing your concern, thank you. However, I'm re-adjusting just fine. Remember, there was a time in my childhood when I lived in jolly old England where my dad and I built igloos in the backyard for fun. Three inches of snow is nothing. :)
