A golden morning knuckled me with frost as I trundled off to pedal to Louisville. Despite the sting, it was a wonderful trek. I went to Day Espresso and noted the burn of that climb up Baxter: guess who's lost a step since September? I drained six shots and sped back to Wild and Woolly, aware that my internal soundtrack went from Satellite of Love to Schubert's Ninth as the brilliant sky guided a nourishing return. perhaps the chill has halted the ready anger of Hoosiers: no one honked nor screamed at me.