Tonight I was riding home around 8:30 pm. I'm on Forbes going towards Braddock Ave, in that wonderful downhill part where the trees hang over the road a bit, right before Frick Park. It's dark. The foliage parts a bit and I see the moon--enormous, full and orange. The sight took my breath away. I wasn't expecting it, and it was quite spectacular. Plus I knew that under any other circumstance, I probably would've missed it.
Another view: early morning ride into work across a bridge...the fog is still low and you can feel the bite of the air in your lungs--I would never know it like this if I drove my car every day.
So here's my question for anyone who feels like sharing: What things do you witness on the bike that you would never see/feel anywhere else? Things that made you oh so glad to be riding a bike?
I hope that makes sense...I just love those little "moments" on the two wheels so much, and I'd love to hear what other people have experienced.
Thanks!
I’ll bite. This mostly happens on group rides, but it happens solo too – little kids around five or six years old just stop what they are doing and point in our direction. I always give a few rings of my bell and wave. Kids LOVE bikes, I wonder why the passion sometimes diminishes as they grow older. But to see them wide eyed and giddy just makes me smile.
My favorite view of Pittsburgh is from the middle of the Hot Metal Bridge over downtown. Ideally at sunset, ideally with beautiful weather. Ideally while biking, though it is accessible by foot as well.
I also really think that this route through Frick Park might be the best ride in the city, especially in the upcoming fall season: http://bit.ly/o0RNPC
Winter.
The air is clearer, and the leafless trees let you see the contours of the city in a whole new way.
nothing else makes me want to say weeee as I go downhill.
Yes to winter riding. I honestly despised winter before I started riding. Now I can't wait for the snow this year.
Hearing more crickets and birds at 8:10 a.m. than traffic, despite being 20 feet from an intersection. (I was stopped at that moment, but on the bike.)
the quiet of a neighborhood street after midnight, when it feels like you're the only person in the world.
Experiencing daybreak after riding in the dark; pedaling under lightening skies next to valleys still filled with fog, watching the world sleepily stir(and, metaphorically speaking, grope for its coffee...)
When I was riding every day to Monroeville, I discovered a creek along my route that I didn't know was there from the car, heard the water and even saw some flowers that were totally invisible from the car.
And biking over bridges. There is nothing better than biking over bridges, especially ones where you can see straight down to the water. I also like how on a bike, you can come to a complete stop almost anywhere at a whim and not obstruct anything. Almost anywhere. Makes admiring the view much easier no matter what the view is.
31st St. Bridge - looking either up river or down river. Really underrated - and unexpected, but beautiful.
And, the heron I saw this summer flying up Deer Creek - kinda surreal.
Gover over the Birmingham Bridge to the Southside around sunset.
I can think of a few-
Seeing my reflection in the thin sheen of water beneath me just after a rain.
Chasing and being passed by my shadows (from the streetlamps)at night on the Jail trail.
Those rare times when it feels like my legs are have merged with and have become one with the machine beneath me. My upper body is just resting on and controlling this two wheeled bionic beast across the face of the earth.
Last winter I was riding in Frick Park during a huge snow storm at night. The fresh snow contrasted with the trees to mark the sides of the trail and there was a full moon that was bright enough to ride under without lights.
+1 on the rolling shadows from streetlights. I loved playing with the shadows as an insomniac runner, and rarely get to see them anymore (my 'burb is mostly unlit) - typically only as a cyclist out past my bed time rolling home through the city, meaning I've just come from having an abnormally huge amount of fun.
thank you for reminding me of that 
The smell of food at any time, but especially the smell of bread and pastries when riding through the Strip at 5:30 on a cold, Saturday morning.
+1 on smelling food- trying to guess what the soup is for lunch in the jail when going past in the morning.
Hearing conversations of people on their porches on a quiet street.
I just like seeing other riders. I dont know if my timing is just off but I rarely see people on bikes in the morning. I think im kind of inbetween the riders getting to town early and the riders getting into to town around 7:30
In the spring, when it's starting to warm up, you can ride past a small valley and feel the flow of cold air still coming down the valley like a stream. You can feel those rivers of air that you wouldn't be aware of literally any other way.
I got caught in that August 19th storm riding down Beacon. The rain was torrential and developed into dime sized hail. I dropped down into Schenley Park. It was scary, but exhilarating. Rides like that, you know you are alive.
