There is something fine about living near the Continental Divide. From the Little Pueblo three bicycle rides head to the Divide. It isn't the monumental undertaking that it would be in Colorado but it still takes quite an effort here, at the southern terminus of the mountainous divide in the USA. South of us, the Continental Divide is just a mathematical concept.

Making the best of the weather is probably the most important job for any kind of outdoorsman. Last winter I shifted from road cycling to walking all my errands. It was fun to finally live like that since I had wanted to, for years. But it wasn't enough exercise.

So it was satisfying to respond to the first cold snap of this winter by jumping on my full-suspension mountain bike and humping the Continental Divide on a route that I wasn't even sure of. Why do some people buy guidebooks and GPS, when uncertainty is half the fun?

Road cycling is more comfortable than most sports in hot weather, but the wind-chill works in reverse in the winter. I want to enjoy cold weather, not suffer through it; that's what summer is for. Mountain biking is closer to hiking, thermally, than it is to road cycling.

There is more than wind-chill to get away from. The other day a Eura-friend and I were cycling on the shoulder of the only busy highway around here, when some idiot chucked a pop can out at her. It missed, but splattered her a little. (Oddly enough, I've only had one beer bottle chucked at me in all my years of cycling in NASCAR nation, and that was in the reputedly bike-friendly state of Washington.)

I'm not sure she understands American motorists and their culture. She claims that, in her northern European homeland, dogs chase automobiles rather than cyclists, since it's the automobiles that seem noteworthy and weird to the dog. Whether that's true or not, I would love to see $5 gasoline take some traffic off our roads.

The danger of road cycling in the USA is a reason to see mountain bikes as the best invention in my lifetime. Mountain biking isn't risk-free, but at least the damage won't come from some distracted or hurried motorist. As always, a good thing can be ruined by propaganda from the industry, whose glossy magazines encourage mountain bikers onto rough single-tracks that are better for hiking.

Then I got teased about "wasting" a sunny Sunday by watching football. How do you convince a European barbariana that American football is the real version of football? On the other side of the pond they just kick a round ball around, almost at random, with no clearly-defined front line between the two armies. And their arms are tied behind their backs. There is no suspense and build-up in the pitiful game they play. Or maybe her objection to watching football stems from another divide, more fundamental than the others listed above.