When I awoke this morning and curiously peered through the bedroom draperies onto the world beyond, my initial reaction upon seeing the light snowfall was to rejoice that I had an excuse to stay in bed. I burrowed once again beneath the duvet. But my indolence was short lived. Plagued by inescapable imperatives, I acknowledged the purgative value of a bicycle ride to complete my upcoming day. Regular exercise is necessary; but there is nothing other than bicycling that suits me. The thought of confining myself to an indoor gymnasium is totally unappealing. And I cannot walk any distance.
Soon we were bundled in our scarves, undergarments, coats, headgear and gloves. After defeating the icy skiff upon the garage exit ramp, we were happily sailing about the neighbourhood. The thin blanket of snow on the lawns and fields muffled the environment. Though it is a Monday morning, there was little activity about town other than people walking their dogs. Louis, a bouncy black Spaniel pup clad in festive seasonal garb, greeted us enthusiastically and mounted his tiny paws on my lower limbs. The owner of the pup – a tall, slender woman – echoed the gusto of her charge.
As you might suspect, it is a ritual path we follow each morning when bicycling. Our passage through the neighbourhood and around the Elizabeth Kelly Library to the centre of town was a predominantly isolated course. The roadways were wet but not icy. Occasionally there were clusters of slush and tissues of snow. My new bicycle tires – in addition to being “flatfree” – have a heavier trend than most; it afforded a precise way to accommodate the dampened pathway along the erstwhile railway right-of-way.
It was on the right-of-way that we encountered a chap walking his Husky. The fellow told us he resided in the nearby Dungarvon building at the corner of Main St E and Union St S. It is a property with an anecdotal past seemingly as colourful as its inhabitants.
We continued upon our way across the bridge over the Mississippi River towards the Old Town Hall. There is now an electronic pedestrian crossing which conveniently precedes the treelined walkway that skirts the public library.
The last leg of the outing was a number of circuitous routes to home. We parked the bikes and returned duly restored to our digs.