Welcome to New England. Don't like the weather? Wait 15 minutes.

I encountered this phrase pretty much the day I moved to New England over six years ago (six years? really? wow? I'm only twenty-four, that’s a fourth of my life!). New Englanders love this saying, AND for good reason- it's totally frickin' true!

On Monday I rode my bike into work (by the way, I LOVE commuting via bike!) and it was the coldest day I have encountered thus far- 24 degrees. Since this is my first time bike commuting I am still trying to figure out what conditions are acceptable for riding and what gear I need to wear for what weather. On Monday I discovered that in sub 30 degree weather I need two layers of warm gear on top and on bottom, neck gear that can cover my whole neck and up to my nose, and my snow mittens. I wore my snow gloves and they just didn't cut it, I was a little too cold. I may also need a full-on face mask, but that might only be necessary for sub 20 degree weather- I haven't decided yet.

Then yesterday morning I woke up and looked up weather.com, forty-six degrees! What? For some reason I still wore my winter gloves while riding, but half way through my hands got too warm and I took them off and rode with bare hands the rest of the way- and I was fine!

My beautiful friend Bekka, who lives really close to my work, had invited me to sleep over. So I rode in with a backpack full of work clothes for two days. I planned to leave my bike in the indoor racks at work (nice and secure) and walk to and from Bekka's. On my walk to Bekka's last night at 7:45 it was a balmy 50 degrees out (a note to all you southern Californians: 50 degrees at night in Boston in December is waaaaaarrrrmmmm), so I left my hat at work and just wore gloves (I wanted my hair to look nice for Bekka).

Foolish Melanie did not keep the old saying in mind, and this morning when I began my short walk to work I was in for a rude awakening. It was somewhere in the lower 20s (note that it was not really early in the morning or anything, it was after 8:30, the sun had been up for a while) and snowing and windy!!! My poor ears were so cold and painful that it took a good half hour in my warm, warm office for them to defrost and stop hurting me.

Then I made foolish decision number two. I asked my friend Mike (hi Mike, he is a blog regular) if he wanted to do lunch near his work (he works less than two miles away). See, Mike always comes over here when we do lunch; because for some reason it is always on days when I don't have my bike and would thus have to pay $1.25 each way to reach him via the T (he has a monthly pass so it does not cost him any money). It wasn't until after he accepted my invite (I had expected him to decline) that I decided to check the weather. The prediction was grim but doable, windy and snowy until 11 am, but the noon forecast showed no more snowing and didn't mention the wind.

A little after 11:30 (this time was chosen purposefully as it is closer to noon than eleven) I put on all my biking gear and headed downstairs. Things started off a little rough, I left the office and was immediately hit by the bitter cold- weather.com had informed me that it was 22 degrees but that it would feel like 5 degrees (keep in mind, since I rode in the day before I am missing some key sub thirty degree elements such as the neck gear). But I said to myself, "it's not too far, I can do this." Then I turned a corner, more wind, and more snow. Then I turned another corner, even more wind and snow. THEN I hit that stretch of Tremont St. that runs a long the Common. Have you ever walked through a part of the common with very few trees on a cold and windy day? It becomes a barren wasteland of high speed wind. I was freezing cold and the wind was making every effort to push little 128 lb me and my light weight road bike in directions that no bike rider wants their bike to move! So after seeing a mental image of the wind pushing me and my bike over and considering what would happen if I ended up with my bike on top of me in the middle of a downtown street, I got off of the street and hopped off of my bike.

The resulting walk back to work was bitter cold and miserable. I let Mike know that I would not be making it for lunch, and he told me to stay warm.

Suffice to say I am making a HUGE sacrifice and leaving work early today so I can take my bike on the T (you are not allowed to bring bikes on the T during "high commuter hours" which start at 4 pm).

Me and my 10 speed

I bought a bike! It is currently the highlight of my life.

Last week I walked into Bikes Not Bombs in Roxbury and was met by a fidgety little bikestress (yes I just made that word up). She helped me pick out everything from my frame to my toe clips (which I didn't even realize I wanted) and in five short weeks I will have a refurbished bike that was custom built just for me.

Bikes Not Bombs is a really cool non-profit organization that recycles and refurbishes bicycles and send them to developing countries to provide people with an alternative form of transportation. They also train urban youth to either "earn a bike" or work in the bike shop. Anyway you can read up more on them by clicking the link above, but needless to say I was happy to shell out $200 for my bike and another $60 for my helmet, lock, and Boston bike map.

In my excited fervor I promptly put a Bikes Not Bombs sticker on my water bottle (I have recently started stickering my metal water bottle to keep people from thinking that it is a coffee thermos- which it technically is). The next morning I was in a meeting with my boss and purposely turned my water bottle so she could see my new sticker (I knew that she would recognize and be in support of BNB). Sure enough she took the bait and we chatted a little about the organization and how great they are. She asked about donating frames and I said I was planning on buying a cheapy bike off craigslist (if you have never checked out craigslist you need to pull your head out of the hole and check it out) and then donating it when my new bike was ready. At that point she protested my decision and told me to just borrow one of the many bikes that was not being used in her family- amazing! That night my good friends Chelsea and Maria drove me over to Karin's place and then drove me and my bike home (I was going to take the T-there and then ride home but my "big brother" Mike kept insisting that he would never see me again if I enacted that plan).

So I have spent the last 5 days riding all around Boston on my nifty loaner bike. I have biked to and from work everyday and to and from my practice and game. The work commute is 4.5 miles and for a good portion of that I am on the Southwest Corridor- a sweet paved bike path. Then I hit downtown Boston and I hop onto the mean streets. Now this may seem scary, but I find it quite exhilarating and I am taking all of the precautions that I can to make sure my father's worst nightmares do not come true (I wonder if my Mom has even told my dad yet). I found this great document on how to not get hit by a car, and much to my mother's chagrin it warns over and over that riding on the sidewalk is a quick ticket to hurting yourself (by allowing an unsuspecting car to hit you while you cross the street) and others (the moving target that is a pedestrian is not easy to avoid).

My commute takes me about 45 minutes and I save money (no T-passes) and resources (no gas, more room on the T for other passengers)- my old roomie Neda "Captain Planet" Sobhani would be proud!

Stay Tuned for:
Retail Therapy
Be a filter not a sponge Or Does anyone really know what to think about what is happening in the Middle East?