102, 103 & Counting: Hot ridin' in the old town

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Not even the high for the day!
Not even the high for the day!

Wife: “Where are you going?”

Me: “It’s Wednesday. You know I go to the Wallingford Farmers Market on Wednesdays.”

Wife: “You’re going to take your bike?”

Me: “I always bike to the farmers market.”

Wife: “Are you crazy?! It’s going to hit 100!”

Me: “We cyclists are tough.”

Wife: “There is such a thing as heat stroke you know.”

Me: “Cyclists don’t get heat stroke. They create their own breeze.”

Wife: “I can see the headline now: Avid Cyclist Suffers Aneurysm In Heat Wave”

Me: “Miraculously Rides Through It and Arrives Home Safely.”

In happier times...
In happier times...

And so it goes in the World of the Misunderstood Cyclist. When you love to do something like ride, little things like heat waves don’t get in the way. Heck, if torrential downpours and freezing whiteouts and foot-deep snow and roadways full of black ice don’t stop us, why should a little extra sunshine? Besides, we’re doing our part to reduce global warming and climate disruption so this kind of thing — the hottest day on record in Seattle history — won’t happen for future generations.

So don’t call us nuts. Call us responsible. Call us sensible. Call us on our iPhones…

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