Their property is perched about 1,000 feet above Homer, a town of somewhere near 5,000 folks on the Kenai Penninsula. Town itself sits on the Kachemak Bay, bordered by water and Diamond Ridge. Across the bay, majestic glaciers cling to the Kenai mountains. It's magic. It's also a quick study for those thinking about the ways precipitation might fall and the various forms it can stick around. It's fertile ground to think through this winter spent on two wheels.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not panicked about a winter spent cycling. I know it might seem like we're obsessing on it. A decade in Iowa, largely on bicycles, has made both of us mostly comfortable with weather. But before there was always that "safety net' of two tons on four wheels sitting in the driveway. When things got bad enough, the car was always there. Even when things weren't terrible, the car would whisper its promises of warm and dry. It's the tough days I'm concerned about. Those few tough days with extreme temperatures. Those few days where the snow has turned from inviting fluff to hardened ice. Those few days when it's not my cheeks I'm concerned about, but those of the Buckaroo. It's not my hips getting bruised I'm trying to avoid, but those of the lady of the house.
Top of the to-do list once we get back: get those studded tires on Cinda's winter commuter.