Burying the Xtra

Burying the Xtra

To be fair to the good burghers of Ostfildern, many of those who don’t cycle, walk: it’s only a few die-hard car users -enthusiasts, perhaps- who drive over the tiny distances within the village. Nonetheless, when winter arrived last week in the form of a blizzard there was a noticeable increase in the number of cars shunting about the sport centre carpark as the collective brains of twenty parents wrestled with the problem of how to get as near a possible to the door, offload their their offspring and race back to their heated vehicles in the shortest possible time.

We cycled, as usual. Eldest Son sees absolutely noting unusual in cycling in horizontal snow or sub-zero temperatures, bless him. I guess that’s partly because there is simply no option: We don’t  own a car -thank goodness- so snow, wind, and other weather is part of travelling. His best friend comes from a similar family, which is why there are two little bikes in the otherwise empty rack. When I took this picture the bike had been standing for two minutes and was already becoming a snowdrift.

The morning after
The morning after

By the next morning things were looking, well, white. And still the stuff was falling. Okay so it’s hardly Alaskan standard drifts but it took everyone by surprise, and the town had to scramble snowploughs in the small hours -although note that in contrast to the UK, they did, and the roads were cleared by early morning, not still snow-bound mid-afternoon.

Not everything is cleared, of which more muttering later, but there’s enough that we can keep moving on two wheels in the village. And if the snow keeps coming like this, we’ll soon have enough for us to try out the new sledge, so we win both ways…

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