Crystal white, On winter streets, Seasons sorrow, On pouting cheeks?

I glide without wheels through streets made of waves, or hang from a cable with mountain views to gaze. One rides the water, one rides the sky, both carry travelers passing by.

There is one in a second, none in a minute, two in one hour, but none in half. What am I?

I steal your looks but leave your pockets full. I copy you perfectly, yet never learn a thing. I've solved more riddles than any hero ever has, and somehow I'm STILL the answer. You're already thinking of me - don't pretend you're not...

What is a penguin's default method of travel?