It's true, I'm not the bicyclist I once was. Gone are the commutes from April to November, weather be damned. But, having compounded the interest on my spare tire for several years, I'm determined to return to some semblance of my former Lance. The streets seem different, but I'm not sure if it's the years or my new neighborhood that have made Chicago a friendlier biking experience.
Three weeks of riding has brought back that nagging feeling that a car door is going to cut the trip short. And hearing horror stories about idiot drivers doesn't help. But I have to say that things seem better out there. There are more of us. I don't want to admit it, but maybe it's true; we're safer as a pack of sheep than we are as lone wolves.
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