There wasn't much reason to: ahead of me lie the trail I needed to concentrate on, and to my left was the gorgeous expanse of river. In fact, impending cold weather was the point of the ride. I took the scenic route to get to my destination expressly because I wasn't sure when I'd be able to enjoy perhaps my favorite feature of my new home next.
The massive columns of the Beaux-arts building across the road were perhaps the most obvious feature, but I let my eyes fall on the inscription on the colonnade. Reading the name, I remembered a moment probably 18 years earlier where I'd climbed into a car parked on the opposite side of the quaint green parkway that separated me from the structure.
On that day, my destination was home. Pittsburgh was 11 hours away, on average, and I would arrive at my door after midnight. As I closed the door, I looked out at the same building and wondered: "What if I lived here?"
It wasn't a unique or even uncommon question. Any city I'd figured out my way around and felt any real affinity for would typically prompt the reaction. But at the time I felt I would never leave Pittsburgh.
Considering it at that moment, I found it almost funny. Unanticipated events had pushed me away from my old home and allowed me to finally answer the question, if only for this one place where a day could now end with a short bike ride home instead of a flight or a multi-hour drive.