All About Mick's World

My First Date (With Bunny) Early February, 2015. The depths of winter. At this point annually, I am always struggling with SID (seasonal induced depression). The seemingly constant darkness, the cold, the wind, the loneliness...all wear me down. Every year at this time, I spend the next few weeks waiting (less than patiently, mind you) for spring and its promise of warmth, sunshine, friends, and bikes. Yes, bikes. The thing I miss most through winter is the times spent astraddle one of my bikes, laughing, cursing, sweating, smiling, etc with all of my besties! This winter was much the same as years past, longing for spring. Ugh. But wait. In recent years a new type of bicycle has arisen. The Fat Bike, aka the Snow Bike, aka a-bike-that-can-extend-one's-riding-season-significantly. I've seen many teammates and friends getting one of these curiosities. I've been tempted, but is it worth dropping another chunk of change on a bike that honestly would get limited use f

It's My Funeral Don't let me alarm you. No, I’m not dying. Not any more than any of you reading this now are, anyway. Well, of course I’ll die at some point in my life, if that makes any sense at all. I mean, we all will pass on at some time, right? Life ultimately and inevitably leads to death, but no, I didn’t get some bad news from the doctor. In fact, I’m in pretty decent health. However, I’m at the age where I see more people at (or close to) my age meeting their ultimate demise...I have of late been known to scan the obituaries in the paper, and while I rarely see a familiar name, it seems that my age (56 as of this writing) is nearing the mean age of death. So many times I've heard it said "he (or she) died doing what he loved." As if it's a good thing to have one's very existence ripped away while in the throes of something that defines what that person is. No. I'd rather not go out on my bike. It seems like that could be a violent, pain