My friend Bernard is not a man for all seasons. He is a man for one season. That season is winter. His perfect day is cold, around freezing, ideally with a threat of sleet, and daylight in as short supply as possible. He excels in these conditions, as long as the metric for excellence is not speed, but a sort of miserable contentment.
It wouldn’t be quite fair to say he feels cycling is there to be endured, but he does like some grit in his oyster. Let me put it this way, winter offers more opportunities to display a certain amount of carefully manufactured toughness. When you finish a ride on a chill winter day, people give you credit for your dedication to your sport.
