By Pico Triano
Photos: Pico Triano
When I
was eleven years old, I got a newspaper route and started making a
little bit of money. I did it for two years and my route was not for
the faint of heart. Part of the route was in the village I grew up in
but extended out into the outlying area. I went on Google maps and
calculated my route out at approximately seven kilometres.
During
the spring, summer and fall I rode my bicycle every single day except
for a few really bad weather days where my dad gave me a lift. That
was a very rare occurrence. Those were the easy days. The biggest
challenge was out running some of the local dogs. There was this old
recluse living along my route who had three dogs (at least) that he
controlled with a club. I wish that was an exaggeration.
Winter
is when things got difficult. I rode my bike whenever physically
possible. It took forever on foot and I dreaded the days that I had
to do that because I'd get home late and fending off those mutts was
a bigger challenge. I started carrying a big thick stick when I had
to walk through there.
I
remember poking snow and ice clogging between my wheel and the
fenders with another stick. One cool thing was being able to use snow
drifts as bicycle stands. Often didn't have to lean my bike up
against anything. I also remember getting cold and tired.
That
being said it wasn't all that bad. I built stamina that allowed me to
play competitive sports after that. Something I don't think I would
have enjoyed as much. I still ride in the winter to save money on gas
when I can and to get exercise. Winter riding is tough but it isn't
the impossible feat of masochism most non-winter cyclists think it
is.
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