Paul Douglas Trail in Winter
I don’t think I’ve ever ridden my bike in January.
Once the temperature drops below forty or the first snowflakes hit the ground (whether they stick or not), my bikes are cleaned, lubed, spit-polished and hung on the wall like the fine pieces of art that they are.
I never expected a fifty degree day during the first week of the New Year. I checked my cold weather cycling gear – the lack of which is really the primary reason for hanging up my cleats for the season – and discovered that a pair of tights, a wicking base layer, a long sleeve wool jersey, and a wind shell would be more than sufficient. It’s really nothing less than I would wear on a chilly spring morning.
I loaded the Iseo into the minivan and headed to the Paul Douglas Trail in Hoffman Estates. There, during the lunch hour on a Friday afternoon, I encountered a dozen or so people on two feet and another dozen on two wheels. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one in need of some outdoor exercise.
In my mind, I knew that it wasn’t an early spring day. There was no hope that the bare trees would be sprouting buds or that the brown prairie grasses would be greening up anytime soon. As I looked around at the all too familiar setting along my favorite workout loop, something didn’t feel quite right.
It felt like visiting a grade school during vacation.
I just couldn’t shake the thought that I wasn’t supposed to be there. Not at this time of the year, anyway. I had bid my farewells, wished the preserve and its occupants a pleasant holiday, and resigned myself to a different kind of life during the off-season. Yet here I was, interrupting its well-deserved rest and rejuvenation, begging for one more day of personal enlightenment.
The forest preserve willingly obliged me.
While there were no crayons in my desk and nothing colorful to be found anywhere in the classroom, I still sensed the potential. Even though the chalkboards had been wiped clean, they were still there to remind me of all the lessons I had already learned and hint at those that had yet to come.
Despite the chilling breeze cutting through my tights and tickling my face, I knew that it would only be a matter of time before this familiar place warmed me from head to toe.
In no time whatsoever my blood began to surge, carrying fresh oxygen to every cell in my body. My skin warmed as carbon dioxide and other toxins escaped to the base layer. Sure, I could have built up the same sweat lapping the track at the Y, but the sights and smells there just aren’t the same.
It had to be the Vitamin D that notched my serotonin past SAD and into “momentarily content”.
While I only had time to make a single seven-mile loop, I returned to the van with my spirits uplifted. This feeling lasted the rest of the day and into the next.
It wasn’t just the exercise. It wasn’t simply the physiological process of elevating the heart rate, exchanging oxygen, and activating endorphins. It was the feeling of being back in the saddle and absorbing the outdoors into my soul.
It really is all about the bike and the places it takes you to – physically and emotionally.
Here’s to a few more gorgeous bike riding days before Old Man Winter returns with his original agenda.
I’m counting the days until the trail looks like this again;
Paul Douglas Trail in Spring
Keep riding and be safe!
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