Shortly before the holidays, something happened in Eugene that hardly ever happens here — it snowed. Good and bloody hard too. And that wasn’t all — the snow stayed. For nearly a week. Suddenly it was like we were in, I dunno, Boston or New Hampshire or something.

And guess what? I didn’t get to ride in it. Not. Bloody. Once.

With the holidays near and us preparing to leave for a big trip to Colorado, plus Jodie transitioning to a new job, I didn’t ride. That week was working, packing, and helping her move stuff to her new violin teaching studio.

All that snow, begging for a Ural. And I didn’t get out in it once.

It was a missed opportunity, and while I’m okay — to a point — with having missed it, well, it’s still a missed opportunity and I’m sorry I missed it.

I’m almost wishing for more snow.

Almost.