Got home from the rink about 9:30 Saturday morning just as light snowflakes started to fall. “C’mon, man. Move!”, I told myself, sometimes quite out loud, while I changed into bike clothes in what seemed like slow motion.

But then I pushed out – “finally, ya’ big…” and the flakes were floating fat as cornflakes, which  “thwapped” my face, made me laugh, and turned the road to salty, sandy crunchy goo. Even though it was only 5 miles, it was one of the best “Star Wars” rides (flakes = flying stars) I’ve ever had, especially knowing I’d made the most of a window that closed just as I got home. Read more »