Global warming rapidly becomes habit forming. Here it is October, and I'm getting ready to ride to work in summer garb.
With no real winter it will be hard to earn a living here in northern New England. We can only hope that a few die-hards will ride their bikes, as they did during El Nino years in the 1990s. That was during the height of the mountain bike boom, when studded tires became popular and true believers sought out mud wallows. Since that fashion has dwindled, a warm winter may just leave us twiddling our thumbs in a darkened shop while we wait for spring.
As one who had to clean many encrusted bikes in the 1990s, I don't miss mud as a fashion statement. In the competitive economic climate of the times we couldn't charge for the amount of time it took to chisel away all that adobe. Don't you people ever wash anything? It made me damn glad I wasn't their proctologist.
We still get the occasional mud puppy. They usually present the opportunity to fold some cleaning charges into the labor portion of the bill.
By summer standards, the sun says it's now around 6:30 a.m., but it's really after 7:30. Time to head out.