Thanksgiving had just ended, a winter storm had left Boise cold and with snow and ice remaining on the ground for almost a week. I was cautiously riding home on Friday evening on the Greenbelt (a biker/pedestrian only path along the Boise River). The path went over a small knoll about five feet high then turned downhill to the left, but is cambered for a right turn. At that moment I saw the gleen of the streetlight reflect on the black ice. If I went straight and stayed perpendicular to the path, there was a steel rail, if I tried to go left and follow the path, then the bike was off kilter to the path. Just as that thought finished I smacked the asphalt. Blood poured from my mouth and nose. There in front of me was my tooth in the pool of blood.

There is never a good time for an accident, but this was one of those days that just made everything worse. I am a graduate student at Boise State University and finals week was upon me. I had enough homework and projects due that I wasn't sure how this was all going to come together. With  blood stained clothes and face, and my tooth in my pocket, I walked the last mile home an emotional wreak.

The tooth was fixed, but I'd still prefer the original. But a new door was opened to me as a result. My brother-in-law, Scott, owns a Greenspeed GTO trike. At this time I had not ridden it, but my wife had. She had talked about riding it a few times and told me it was fun, but I was skeptical for a few reasons. First of all, I thought that recumbent cycles of any kind didn't look cool. Second, kids ride trikes, adults ride bikes. The frustration for me was that I have been trying to live without a car, or at least use it minimally. My wife, Karen, was patiently listening to me grumble about alternative winter transportation when she recalled riding Scott's trike. "It's really fun to ride," was Karen's primary argument. "We'll be seeing Scott at Christmas time. I'll call him and ask him if you can borrow it." She didn't give me a chance to discuss the uncool factor of a trike and thinks of me as a kid half the time anyway, so I waited for Christmas.

The maiden voyage on the trike was at the end of the day in the Santa Ynez wine country. Two brother-in-laws, my wife, and Scott's girlfriend had all ridden the trike. I was waiting patiently for this strange test run. I sat on the trike. Scott explained the basic of the gears, brakes and steering, then said, "Go." I never stopped.

The "triker's grin" happens to everyone I've seen on a trike. Maybe some hardcore, shave the whole body, cyclist will manage to suppress the smile welling from deep inside, but the rest of us cannot do it. At least I haven't seen it done yet. It happened to me. I rode Scott's bike all winter until he said he needed/wanted his trike returned.

"Scott, can I ride the trike to you?" He had no problems with that, and I had three weeks of time between semesters. This spawned the Boise-to-Flagstaff trike ride. The time of triking also got me hooked. During Spring Break, knowing that I would have to soon return Scott's trike, I knew I had to get one. I now own a trike and so does my wife. We bought Catrike trikes. The first problem a new triker experiences is that you cannot easily carry anything on  a trike. When you ride a bike, you can always throw on a backpack, but on a trike that doesn't work because you're sitting in a seat. Functionality and utility is of utmost importance to me. After a winter of riding I knew that a trike is not utilitarian at all without at least a rack, so the first thing I did was mount racks on both trikes. Karen initially just thought they made the trike cute, but has since enjoyed the addition.

Riding during the winter, there was a second addition that a trike had to have: at least a rear fender. Fenders on the front wheels were nice, but the back fender is a must. On a bike the water hits the butt and back. On the trike it right up the back of the neck and into your hair. Both trikes were now equipped and ready to ride and commute.