Here in the Northern Hemisphere, we’ve reached the season where my colleagues (and students) think I’m crazy for continuing to bike commute. Despite sometimes achey fingers, the cold itself is usually easy to deal with. When I get worried is when there’s ice on the roads.

In 2022, I joined the prescription sunglasses club. It’s great, but it requires making certain I’m packing any glasses I’m not wearing. That failed yesterday, so I’m wearing old, scratched indoor glasses until I can get my good ones from work.

Je viens de payer une facture assez chère pour faire entretenir et réparer mon vélo, mais la facture annuelle juste pour le droit de garer une voiture chez mon travail coûterait deux fois ça. Je sors donc toujours gagnant.

It is flannel shirt, heavy gloves, and balaclava season for this bike commuter, and I couldn’t be happier.

Five flats between two bikes in six weeks (four in the last two) can’t be a world record, but it’s a personal best that I’m not interested in beating anytime soon. Wishing the bus came closer to my house, even though that commute is even longer.