I first saw the bicyclist as a tiny speck in the middle of Lake Mendota's frozen wasteland. Gradually he came closer. He looked as if he had ridden his mountain bike all the way across the lake. When he got to the Statue of Liberty, he got off his bike and stared -- like a weary traveler discovering that the mirage on the horizon is actually real, or at least something physically resembling reality. Only in Madison.