It was probably inevitable, but I had my first bicycle spill this morning.
It was a slushy day, packed snow and patches of wet ice that didn’t seem particularly slick. I was bouncing along the cobblestones along a side street when I reached across to move my recycling bag from one hand to the other, and suddenly the back wheel canted the opposite direction. The whole bike slewed, I went over the handlebar, and we both went hard onto the street. Landing full on the chest, it knocked the wind out of me, yielding have a palm full of pavement stones, some bruised knuckles, and a very skinned knee.
It brought to mind all of the perils of the typical Dutch morning commute:
Scraping ice off of the vehicle (I hate wet pants on a cold day). 
Dealing with traffic (especially younger drivers)
:
Finding a parking spot (arriving early doesn’t seem to help):
Being out before the road sweepers have cleared the snow:
Congestion at the intersections:
Deciding who has the right of way:
