Call it climate change – or just bad karma – but it seems the weather has been less friendly to cyclists so far this year. Just this morning, while cycling into a wall of wind that was trying to wrench the front wheel away from me, I wondered when we could expect the southern Californian climate scientists have been threatening us with.

Like many city cyclists, I use my bike primarily as a form of transport. I don’t want to use the bus or get a taxi just because there’s a hurricane, torrential rain or sub-zero temperatures – it’s against all my principles. And have you seen how much a bus journey costs these days! No – the only weather that would stop me cycling is snow deeper than the wheel hubs.

Even so, the first few months of 2008 have tested my patience just a little bit. February in particular delivered one week that seemed to be a sample chart of winter weather. Monday was a beautifully clear day – but six below zero. Cycling downhill in such cold air reveals every chink in your armour: the miniscule gap in your scarf; a half-closed zip; those so-called thermal gloves that you bought cheaply. When I finally arrived at work and attempted to go to the toilet, I was shocked to find that my genitals had retracted snail-like into my body to escape the cold.

Traitors!

Tuesday was much the same temperature but with freezing fog. The trees and grass of the park were rimed with a thick white crust and my wheels crunched over salt. There was so much moisture in the air that it began to form like a sugar frosting on my coat. Then, when I went out to check the bike at lunchtime, the exposed steel parts were spiky with hoar frost. I checked to see if the tyres had frozen to the ground. Yes.