Chasing a series of huge winter storms that buried the East Coast, a small crew of riders brings positive vibrations to Boston under duress.

Words: Ben Shanks Kindlon

Head-high snowbanks lined the streets of Boston. The sun rose and illuminated the white-blanketed sidewalks and buildings with a golden pink hue. A crisp, cool air soothed the lungs. I could see the 52-story Prudential Building standing proudly in the morning light, its cascade of windows glistening harmoniously with the frozen Charles River. It was paradise. Well, from my perspective at least. For many residents, it was hell…

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