It'll be 60* here this afternoon. Dirt is dry, leaves are down but not for so long that you can't still smell them. My current mountain bike is the best, most capable, most fun bike I've ever owned or ridden.
Despite all that I'd rather be riding snow.
The season approacheth, and as such I get excited about needing to stick big burly meats onto some absurdly wide rims to go riding -- with my sweetie, and others -- where almost no one else does.
Perhaps my wires got crossed at some early, impressionable age? Most people can't get enough of what we have right here, right now. As evidenced by the lines of cars rolling into town every Friday night, and the blown to bits corners with braking bumped descents on our local dirt.
Why would one wish all that away and want colder temps, slower speeds, more logistical headaches, more type II fun?
In a word crowds, or a lack thereof. I've always been crowd averse, always turned my back to large numbers of people -- regardless of what they were doing -- and headed the other direction. Clearly there is more to it than that, but I think that's about as close to the root as one can tap.
Some would say 'be patient, it'll be here soon enough".
I suppose that's true. I'm ready now.