Springtime Blows

[ornoth_cycling]

There’s a few reasons why spring can be difficult for bikers.

I suppose the easiest to understand is the gravel. Living in New England, the road crews sand the public ways often. So in April we reap the harvest of gravel that has accumulated over the preceding five months. Gravel is dangerous because it’s easy to lose traction and skid or fall, and it also leads to punctures. Stones in the gravel can be kicked up into your face by cars with enough force to easily crack your glasses, assuming you’re wearing some. And let’s not forget the subtle pleasure of drinking Gatorade that’s been nutritionally supplemented with road dirt.

A related problem is the spring runoff. Fortunately, this year we didn’t get much snow, so the melt wasn’t bad. But often you’ll be riding along on a fine 60-degree day, only to pass through an area where water from melting snow is flowing across the road. Riding through it gets you and your bike horribly dirty, and gets water and more gravel in your drive train. But the worst thing is that overnight those flows of water will freeze, meaning they’re not water but ice for your morning commute. Joy!

Drivers will understand the problem of springtime potholes. After frosts and water seepage, plus being scraped up by five months of snowplow blades, whole sections of road will be torn up, causing cyclists to weave back and forth like an inebriated hermaphrodite. No one repairs roads in the winter, so the damage is cumulative. By springtime, most towns have more than blown their feeble DPW budget on snow removal, so the most ambitious repair you’ll see is someone shoveling some loose asphalt into a hole. Since it’s not steamrolled or even tamped down, the repair lasts a few hours before passing cars have torn it back up again, throwing sticky tar asphalt chunks all over the road. It’s a very special time!

Then there’s the wind. Here in Massachusetts, springtime seems to be “wind season”, when there’s a steady 30 mph breeze for weeks at a time, and I don’t think it’s an artifact of my post-winter legs (or lack thereof). Wind is a nightmare for cyclists, because you are never going with the wind; unless it’s directly behind you, you are fighting it, and it’s a formidable opponent, easily reducing you to a crawl as you pedal with all your strength downhill. The stuff should be outlawed.

And in greater Boston we have a special extra bonus in April: the Boston Marathon. Throughout the year, you don’t see that many joggers in Boston, but for two weeks before the marathon, everyone and their mother is out. Runners. Walkers. Grandmothers with walkers. Infants. The recently deceased. Even lawyers! They all jam up the paths and roads in a vain attempt to make it look like they lead a healthy lifestyle, and getting in the way of those of us who actually do. Then, a week after the marathon, they’ll all disappear back to their nursing homes, mausolea, and small claims courts, leaving the magical summertime riding season to us.

Spring. It’s always a wonderful thing to see, but I’m reserving my love for high summer.