The alarm went off and I looked over at to check the outdoor temp. Almost 31ºF. No problem. Perhaps I'm beginning to acclimate, at least psychologically, to winter. On the other hand, perhaps I'm just demented or obsessive or the victim of some other psychiatric malady. Shorts, knee-warmers, tights, jersey, arm-warmers, jersey, jacket, vest, socks, shoes, toe-covers, shoe-covers, regular gloves, long gloves, shell gloves, skullcap, helmet, glasses. Winter riding is so complicated. At least when the temp is this low, the wind this strong, and the wardrobe this limited, there are fewer decisions to make.
The sun was still 30 minutes east of the horizon, but as I looked up through the canopy of oak trees I could see that the sky was clear. So were the body fluids flowing copiously from my nose and eyes. I was reasonably warm and comfortable when I arrived at the levee, but I knew from experience that the comfort level would start dropping rather quickly after the first 45 minutes when my face, feet and arms would start feeling the real chill. The bike path was as I'd expected. Grey, windy, deserted -- completely deserted. I was nearly ten miles out before I saw the first person, a large guy bundled up in a big coat and scarf walking slowly downriver. I turned around just before Williams Blvd., knowing I'd be battling headwinds and crosswinds much of the way back. He was still walking when I passed him again.
The sun was still 30 minutes east of the horizon, but as I looked up through the canopy of oak trees I could see that the sky was clear. So were the body fluids flowing copiously from my nose and eyes. I was reasonably warm and comfortable when I arrived at the levee, but I knew from experience that the comfort level would start dropping rather quickly after the first 45 minutes when my face, feet and arms would start feeling the real chill. The bike path was as I'd expected. Grey, windy, deserted -- completely deserted. I was nearly ten miles out before I saw the first person, a large guy bundled up in a big coat and scarf walking slowly downriver. I turned around just before Williams Blvd., knowing I'd be battling headwinds and crosswinds much of the way back. He was still walking when I passed him again.
I picked up a little tailwind for a mile or two, but then as I rounded the bend at the country club, where the river turns sharply to toward the north-northeast, I moved my hands to the drops, took one last glance at the deserted path ahead of me, and lowered my head for that long drag into the wind. I passed one other person, a guy walking his dog down on concrete levee apron where he could stay protected from the wind without having to walk through the damp grass and lightly frozen puddles on the batture.
Though it was a cold and windy ride, it was nice to be out alone with the bike path all to myself for a change. Now the question is, 'what will tomorrow's ride bring?' It's only 34º right now at 12:30 pm and the forecast calls for a low tonight of 26º with 10-20 mph winds. It's not looking good for the 7 am Giro Ride. Perhaps I should float the idea of an alternate ride at a more reasonable hour. I'm kind of surprised nobody else has.
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