For the cyclist in Paris there is only one rule: don't think, just go.

Despite what may at first seem like total mayhem, Parisian traffic is really more like someone's messy desk. You shouldn't clean it up because there's actually an organization to it. 

All the concepts about safe riding that have guided my adult life had to be put aside as I, and a group of about twenty American bicyclists, negotiated the winding streets of one of Europe's most beautiful but seemingly disorganized cities.

One of my favorite activities on any rails-to-trail is observing wildlife. Depending on the trail, you can see anything from deer, fox, snakes, turtles and all kinds of birds, even larger ones such as owls, hawks and eagles.  If I see any smaller wildlife resting on the trail I find myself in a bit of a dilemma.  Should I leave it alone or try to "encourage" the animal to move along so it doesn't get run over by other riders?  Generally, it's best to simply enjoy your wild encounters and move on.  Occasionally, though, I have felt the necessity to gently urge the more delicate locals to move off the trail and onto the nearby grass.

I'm a trail junkie. There's something about the sound of limestone under my tires and the sight of a bike path as it meanders off in the distance under a thick canopy of trees. It ignites my imagination and lifts my mood. The curve way up there, in the distance along the trail - that's my Achilles heel. I HAVE to know what's beyond. As the trail veers and curves out of sight I am lured and driven further and further. Invisibly, over time, those curves have increased my endurance and stamina.