SEP 23, 2008 – 12:00AM

One of the biggest benefits to cycling is – and I’ll try not to get too Zen here – the sensual connection to the world.

Trapped in a car, in a climate-controlled, micro-filtered cabin, behind sound-insulating steel and glass, motorists tend to be isolated from the sights, sounds, smells, tastes and feelings around them.

Sometimes that’s not such a bad thing.

But there are things I never would have seen or heard or smelled or tasted or felt if I had been in my car instead of on my bike.

And there have been a few things I’ve seen or heard or smelled or tasted or felt I wished I hadn’t.

This is the first of five blog entries dedicated to each of the senses.

The sixth – my ability to talk to dead people – is unaffected by my means of conveyance.I’ll start with smell.

I definitely smell more food on two wheels than four.

From the fragrant downtown eateries to my neighbor’s brownies, a bike commute during nice weather can be a savory experience.

On game days, Eau d’Tailgate is the odor of the day.

And the late night/early morning after a big – or even small – game can make whole city blocks reek of spilled beer.

Oh, the humanity.

I love the smell of honeysuckle and Bradford pears in the spring, the crisp leafy smell of fall, the acrid burn of summer and the tingling promise of snow yet to fall.

I know the wind is out of the north when a big part of my commute is tainted by the smell of dog food from the plant on the industrial side of town.

I’ve smelled carloads of young men and women doused in perfume and cologne for a night on the town.

I’ve smelled the river and the water-treatment plant and roadkill.

I’ve smelled rain, too many times.

I’ve smelled incense, but have yet to smell a pine-fresh air freshener hanging from a rearview mirror.

The oddest smell?

One night a couple of years ago, a car pulled alongside, and the passenger window went down.

The driver leaned over and blew out a cloud of smoke before driving off.

I thought it odd, then realized it wasn’t tobacco smoke I smelled.

I’ve smelled weed plenty of times before and since and will again, I’m sure, but that’s the first and only time I can recall it being directed at me.