Stopped at a traffic light with a long, four step sequence. Summer. No shade. Heat radiating off the concrete. I’m a part of the pod of bikes at the head of the traffic lanes. Locals turn off their motors. Sweat trickles. Extend arms in a vain attempt to keep the sweat trapped in the skin folds of knee and elbow from diluting the insect repellent. One engine starts, then another, now all the scooter riders are ready to slice and dice. Green light.
Roll on the throttle, sort out my path as the pod splits into two directions, relax, and then, two seconds after the green, feel the artificial breeze hit my accumulated sweat and enjoy for several all too brief seconds the rapid evaporation that makes me feel like it’s 15 degrees F cooler.