A Slight Chill In The Air, This Fine Morning
The TV weather-girl said it was 1 degree F in Denver, just before I walked out the door. My thermometer on the front porch was reading 2.8, as I left. Yay! I got an extra 1.8 degrees on the rest of the city! Of course, the windchill was still -15, but I had little exposed skin to worry about, so I didn't even factor that in to my "personal comfort perception".
Yesterday's skiff of snow was frozen on the ground, crackling under the tires as I rode across the front yard, to the street. A full moon did more than my two headlights to light the way between streetlamps.
I could feel the moisture from my breath freezing on my face before I got to the stop sign at the end of the street, and I was glad that I had added an extra layer of clothes, up top. I was still a little cool as I began the ride. I knew that I would chill as I crossed the bridge over Cherry Creek, but that I would also slightly overheat as I climbed up out of the drainage via the short, steep hill on Dahlia, two miles from the house.
Sure enough, that came to pass, along with the initial fogging of the glasses/goggles at the top of the hill. I've tried rubbing soap on the lens, using a commercial anti-fog spray, even the old diver's trick of spitting on the lens and polishing it off. Nothing seems to work when the temperatures are below 10 degrees.
So, I pulled the old safety glasses downward on my nose, a little, to let air circulate, and they cleared as I rode over the first patch of glare ice I had encountered. As I was feeling thankful for the studded tires, I swung left to pass by the newspaper carrier who was coming up the wrong side of the street.
I understand that these guys want to drive on the left in order to facilitate throwing the fishwrap into people's bushes, but I wish they would maintain a steady course as I go by. The guy, this morning, did so, and I was glad. Most days, I meet at least one of these guys who feels like he has to get on the right side of the road so that I can go by. Of course, they pull across the street, just as I swing left to go by them, and we end up doing the on-road version of the "hallway dance".
My fingers were beginning to get a bit chilly, so I alternated taking one hand off of the bars and flexing a little warmth into the digits, then repeating with the other, for a few blocks until I got some blood flowing. I still haven't found my misplaced snowboard mitts, and I may just break down and buy some. That's usually the surest way to find the lost items.
Once more money is spent, the fairies return the missing originals so that you have redundant equipment. Of course, then it will be time to lose the right hand mitt from each pair, or something.
Once my hands warmed back up, they stayed fairly comfortable all the way to the lab. My toes never got uncomfortably cool, and the rest of me was just right for the conditions. I rolled into the building 38 minutes after I left, showing a max speed of 21.5 mph (may be why my hands got cold), and feeling good.