Feeling the föhn

I love local weather. It really defines a place in a way that you have to be physically present to experience. No matter what you read in travel books or online guides, you cannot experience the weather. You need to smells the smells and feel the wind on your back. The warmth of the sun might seem like a universal property, but I’m sure that it has its own special variety based on where in the world you’re feeling it.

The last two weeks have seen a massive swing in the weather; from piles of snow dumping on the city, to the much anticipated arrival of the Föhn wind blowing from the south. Renowned as a snow eating monster of a gale, the föhn blows hard and strong in the spring, bringing huge pressure changes, and some much needed warm weather. It started with the snow starting its yearly migration into the rivers, and is now hailing some real green grass on the lower meadows. Some have completely ridded themselves of their winter coat:

I’ve heard many tales of the wind bringing headaches, bad moods and migraines. It had a different effect for me. The ability to ride without spending 30 minutes wrapping myself into multiple layers of synthetic insulation is a massive plus. I have  sped up the work-to-bike transition enough to utilise the ever-increasing after work daylight. That in turn has made me a much nicer person to be around. All I need is an hour (see last post) of adventuring in the evening to make my work day gain perspective. I love research, but I cannot appreciate it without the opposing side of the coin. As such, more exercise has led to more productivity, and things are looking bright.

With a swing in the weather back towards a mix of rain and snow for the weekend, I’ve been briefly reminded that winter probably hasn’t had its last song and dance, but I know spring is just around the corner, and I’m even more excited for the immanent arrival of some dry mountain biking trails too.