During the fall of 1999, Chicagoans started planning Bike Summer 2000. Michael Burton (who would later become my husband) quipped, “Chicago doesn’t really need a Bike Summer. Everybody already bikes in the summer. What we need is a Bike Winter!”

The idea quickly took off, galvanizing scores of local activists to collaborate on creative projects. It was weird and whimsical, but just what we needed to keep our saddles warm through March. There were already some bike events planned for the winter, such as Critical Mass, the Car-Show Shut Down and a few rides organized by the Chicago Cycling Club. But Bike Winter challenged people to think of more events, more rides, and – most important – more strategies to convince other cyclists that winter biking is cool.

The media featured wacky winter cyclists long enough for us to get out the message that we weren’t so odd, after all. Bob Matter, our volunteer meteorologist, analyzed historical trends and produced the shocking information that most winter days in Chicago are quite suitable for outdoor activity, with 65 per cent of days not dipping below 21 degrees Fahrenheit. (Granted, we defined winter as the 181 days between November 1st and April 30th.)

We organized free workshops featuring Dave Glowacz, author of Urban Bikers’ Tricks and Tips. We made and passed out free balaclavas. Rapid Transit, Urban Bikes, Boulevard Bikes and other local bike shops were early supporters. And, of course, no movement can exist without a sticker. That first year we had stickers urging cyclists to “Get Layered!” and proclaiming “It’s Going to be a Long Hot Winter!”

Fifty people attended our first workshop at Quencher’s Saloon, which included a visit from Santa, an indoor snow machine and some slightly racy “layering” demonstrations. Emboldened by the positive response, John Greenfield and Michael Burton proposed that the January Critical Mass ride go to the Baby Doll Polka Club, over a dozen miles from Daley Plaza, the longest route proposed up to then. They arranged for the Polkaholics to perform, with no guarantee that the riders would choose their route or that anyone would show up.

It was a frigid night, but about 100 giddy cyclists came and pedaled past Midway Airport, toes wiggling. We depleted the beer supply, amused the regulars and danced the night away. And this was before you could put your bike on the “L” to get home.

Ever since that inaugural Bike Winter season, I have seen more cyclists hitting Milwaukee Avenue in January, steam curling from their noses and casting long shadows from the sun. Many credit Bike Winter with inspiring them to sell their car or avoid buying a car in the first place. Many more credit Bike Winter for simply helping Chicago become a more bearable place to live.

As more people discover that cycling can be a reliable form of year-round transportation, we will see a shift away from car-dependency, and perhaps even a reduction in grumbling about Chicago’s winters. As for me, I almost look forward to the first day I need to pull out my balaclava. Almost.

Ten years later, Bike Winter continues to inspire and equip cyclists in Chicago – as well as other Midwestern cities – to keep riding when the temperature drops. It remains a grassroots, all volunteer, loosely organized effort. Learn how to get involved at www.bikewinter.org.