I haven’t biked to work since mid-December. I’m really starting to miss it. Sure, it’s cold outside, but that alone isn’t enough to stop me. What stops me is the large piles of snow ice (snice?) that have gathered into the bike lanes or bike lane areas of every road between my apartment and my workplace.

I do see other people riding bikes, and I’ve thought about giving it a try, but I just don’t feel secure in the ability of my bike to resist slipping and sliding on the ice. I have no desire to crash. And on some of these roads, there’s hardly clear pavement enough for a single car, let alone two cars and a bike.

And so I wait for the snice to melt and the roads to clear and the temperatures to climb.

I wait for spring and the return of biking to work (except when it rains, because the roads get so slick and okay the truth is I don’t like getting wet before work).

And I wait for the return of hiking season. It comes early this year, because I’ll be attempting a section of the Idaho Centennial Trail that is desert and I’ve decided that late April is the best time for that. I’ve read too many horror stories about June attempts from the Nevada border. I’d rather be a little cold and be able to warm up from hiking than be so hot that I literally can’t carry enough water to stay hydrated.

Still, it’s good to have time to recover and rebuild strength. To store up the longing and desire for the wilderness adventures that await so that when the hardships and privations come they don’t matter as much. They’ll be what I wanted. What I waited for all winter long.

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