Changing Seasons

The weather lately in Northern California has been kind to those of us who don't want to face the fact that summer is over. Even as each day grows noticeably shorter than the last, even as I find myself cycle commuting home in the dark, there's still a trace of denial. Wearing shorts into the heart of autumn in Northern California is a gamble: You may be comfortable or you might just find it too darned cold and damp. It all depends on the vagaries of the weather systems over the Pacific. Almost to the end of October, there's no denying it now: We're well on our way to winter.

I subscribe to the notion that there's no such thing as poor cycling weather, only poor preparation. Reluctantly, the woolen leg and arm warmers have been taken out of storage, along with heavier woolen socks. Wearing the right clothes certainly helps deal with darkness and chilliness, but acquiring the mental attitude toward winter cycling is what matters most. You don't need to enter a state of denial or embrace severity and deprivation, but it is helpful to find a way to actually enjoy cold weather riding.

Cycling home on Doolittle Road at 8pm the other night, the still waters of the San Leandro Bay were mesmerizing. The Oakland A's were playing some team or another and overcast skies reflected the lights of the Oakland Coliseum, transforming them into a soft orange glow. The Oakland city center was visible in the background and despite the chill, the visual effect was of being inside a peaceful cocoon.  Then a UPS semi-truck blasted past me and shattered the moment. At least it wasn't raining ...

We already experienced an unseasonably wet weekend a month or so ago. It was dry when I awoke for my early morning bike commute so I packed some light-weight rain gear and decided to give it a go. There was a headwind on the ride in. Winds out of the Southwest usually signal rain for the Bay Area. My first and only lesson of the day was limited to flying touch-and-goes in the pattern at Oakland. We accomplished five takeoffs and landings before the rain reduced the visibility and forced us to terminate. I hung around the airport, waiting for the front to pass. When the rain subsided, I began the trip home only to be caught in a couple of downpours. Remembering that this sort of riding is mostly a mental game, I took solace in the wise words of a former student named Allan: "You reach an age where that which does not kill you comes damn close ..."

The main challenges of winter cycling are shorter days, night rides home, and cold, damp air. Having grown up in the Midwest and endured several blizzards, I know the temperatures in the Bay Area are relatively warm. What makes 40 degrees feel so bone-chillingly cold is the high relative humidity. So I look for distractions from the discomfort. Like spotting the dim outline of a family of raccoons crossing the street in front of me with an ungainly, ghoulish gait. Or the sight of a mother deer and her fawn, standing still in the shadowy darkness of a North Berkeley front lawn, waiting for me to pass.

As December approaches, know that the nights will become colder. Know that rainy weather will envelope Northern California. And know that dedicated cyclists everywhere will adapt and endure. If on some stormy, wet night, you see a cyclist, clad in rain gear, bicycle lit up like a Christmas tree, inexorably making their way through the streets of San Leandro, Alameda, Oakland or Berkeley, well that could very well be me. But don't despair. It's quite possible that I'm actually enjoying a nice winter ride home.