As most of you know, I try to ride to work three times a week. The last few weeks have been tough. We had a trip to central California one weekend, my wife had pretty major surgery the next week, so my commuting miles really suffered the last few weeks. The change in weather has been all-of-a-sudden, too and this morning my thermometer said 47 degrees!
I always underestimate how long it takes to put on arm warmers, leg warmer and all that crap. I decided against toe warmers, didn't think it was cold enough to warrant long gloves. I was wrong about the gloves. :shock: Who knew that exposed skin and aluminum brake levers got so cold when it's 47 and you're rolling 25-30? At some point, the fingers just go numb, but there's always the concern about snapping off a frozen finger or two on a downshift. :shock:
Besides the error in judgement regarding my fingers, I got a late start hitting the road and was right at the cusp of where I usually make the call to abort the misson. Instead, I pedalled down the street in search of commuting Nirvana. By the time I dropped down into the wash, hitting speeds in excess of 30 mph, my fingers were freezing. We all know the drill, the answer to a brisk temp is a brisk pace to heat the body up. That's all well and good, but the fingers are the last darned place to get the excess heat. Anyway, I forced the pace so I could get to work in good time to allow for a liesurely shower and change before assuming the position.
Maybe I should mention I was riding a fresh rebuild of my commuter bike. There will be more details forthcoming, but the chain had worn out, as had the cassette and some other parts on the commuter. I had a pretty decent gruppo laying around with even like-new rubber on the wheels! So, I basically completely rebuilt the entire bike and this was the shakedown cruise. Most people would opt for shaking down a new build going around their own block, or at least within walking distance of home. Not me. I take off on a 20 mile ride in the cold and through some of the more undesirable areas of San Bernaghetto!
So, we're running late on a new build, freezing our a$$ off through the ghetto, not a worry in the world. I'm on an open stretch of road, nothing between me and the next stop light except for that friggin' chihuahua that appeared out of nowhere, complete with his bug-eyed deer-in-the headlight look. He's ready to poop, I'm ready to poop, each wondering which direction the other is going to take. Fortunately, we both guessed correct and I continued along my hurried, freezing and now damp in the back of my shorts way.
I didn't make up a whole lot of time, but I got to work in plenty of time, had no issues with the bike. I even managed to avoid running over a wayward chihuahua and my fingers thawed out, eventually. All is well!
Mark