Mid-December is a bit early for the dreams to start.

They're always a bit different, stuffed with random details in the way dreams usually are, but one thing is always the same – it's warm, and I'm riding my bike.

I'm not a natural winter person.

I like sunshine, or at least warmer rainshowers. I enjoy getting out on my bike in the early morning. I like the smell of freshly mown grass, or even better, a whole field of fresh hay. 

Most of all, I like all the daylight.

One of my favourite things is getting up early, the sun already up but still low in the sky, and going out for an early bike ride. Not a long one, just a quick spin down towards the Fraser River and back, an hour or less of pedalling before a quick shower and then off to work. 

I don't always do well in the winter, when dawn is just barely before the start of work, and sunset is an hour or so before the drive home. It can be bad for my mood, and I make an extra effort in the winters to get plenty of exercise, lots of sleep, and to make sure I spend some time outdoors when the sun is up every day.

I strongly encourage anyone else who gets the winter blues to do the same, and if you find yourself spiralling, talk to someone. A family member, friend, or mental health professional. Just don't try to deal with it alone.

This year I've been fine, fortunately. Lots of exercise and plenty of sleep.

Could I ride on the weekends? Yes, if I was willing to invest a fair bit in winter cycling gear that would keep me from freezing.

Riding a bike in damp, or worse in steady rain, will drain the heat right out of you without proper (and expensive) clothing. I remember very well a group bike ride I was on in the Fraser Valley in mid-September some years back – it was unseasonably cool and a steady rain fell the entire day. We kept cutting our breaks short because whenever we stopped riding, our teeth started chattering. 

As for riding in the dark? I know there are folks who do it, for exercise or commuting purposes, but they're braver than I am. One big pickup with an inattentive driver and WHAM! There you go.

Not to mention all the crud that accumulates in bike lanes over the winter – gravel, wet leaves, branches, road salt and trash. It is less than ideal.

So without regular rides, I get the dreams.

Dream riding isn't bad. It's always warm, usually sunny. Sometimes I ride familiar routes, sometimes the streets around my childhood home, the houses the way they were 20 or 30 years ago. Sometimes I ride through houses, or malls, or between office cubicles. 

A lot of my dreams are about some anxiety – late for work, rushing to meet a deadline, being chased by escaped lions from the zoo.

Not the bike dreams, though. They'll keep me going through to summer.