A big storm was heading for the city, but at the last moment the jet stream edged it south 20 miles. We didn't even get a dusting. But boy, were we ready. I'm not sure if the mayor of the city is friends with the man who has the largest stockpile of the world's road salt, but he spared no expense in caking the streets white. It's all still there waiting to be washed into the storm drains. In the meantime, the salt clouds drift in the wake of busses and cars, and I can taste it while riding my bike home and then on my lips for hours after. Second-hand salt. I'll be the first person to contract hypertension from exercise.