"Gimme a pigfoot, and a bottle of beer..."

Okay, here we go. After two lyrical, stream-of-consciousness posts, you're in for a rant, my friends.

I have been trapped, bikefree, for four days now. Not because of my usual assortment of injuries. Not because there's anything wrong with the bikes themselves. Not because I haven't had time.

Not even because the weather's been bad (I have plenty of gear - I can be toasty and dry in most any weather).

The city of New York has, in its infinite insanity (with apologies to Hawkeye for the phrase pilferage), decided that an appropriate place to save money is by eliminating the use of salt, sand, and plows on (apparently) all bike and pedestrian paths on all bridges in this fair (but fairly impossible to deal with, sometimes) city.

I got on my foul-weather steed last night in a desperate attempt to ride somewhere, anywhere (lack of exercise = bad, bad, bad, bad), got 15 minutes away from home, started to go up the first of my two habitually navigated bridges, and got exactly nowhere.

Wheels spun and spun and spun. I put my foot down, carefully, since there's even less purchase on a cycling shoe than there is on a bicycle tire. SHIT. No chance in hell. The thing was a sheet of ice, and the temperature was only just beginning to drop below freezing.

Turned around. Went home. Spent the whole night looking for studded tires that would fit my road bike. (There aren't any. And my mountain bike requires a new set of cranks, possibly chainrings, and a new saddle to be rideable by me. Not to mention the studded tires, which are $150.)

Today I texted a messenger friend: "How's the bridge?"

"Bad."

"Crap. Thanks."

So here I am, hamstrung, because of two bridges. And before you ask, 15 minutes on a bike is roughly the equivalent of having the prettiest boy or girl (whatever your preference) in the world stick his or her hands down your pants and then instantly pull them out, saying, "Oh wait, I forgot. I'm gay/straight (whatever the opposite of your preference)." Except I think I'd mind that a lot less. I mean, at least there's a little momentary thrill there before your hopes are dashed.