Ground Zero

Too cold for comfort

Ka told me it was chilly when taking the little bin out to put in the big bin (wasn't it grammatically easier when we had dustbins?) that it was f-for freezing. I undressed Shadowfax from his pyjamas and switched on the ignition to view the "actual" temperature. 6-degrees C.

I'm no woose*, but 5-degrees is below ZERO in my book; just turn the thermometer over and you'll get my drift. What's the difference? It's bloomin' freezing either way you look at it!

Now, we all know 7-degrees is where I get cold and my nose explodes like a geyser of snot; that 10-degrees is cold enough, and that 15-degrees is okay for walking around the car in a T-shirt, but getting chilly on the bike. So, 6-degrees should have felt threatening but I'd checked the iPhone weather gadget (Portsmouth 9-degrees minimum, 13-degrees maximum) and reckoned that, with the Sun coming up, things might be al ittle too warm filtering through the traffic to justify fitting the trouser liners or even in-zipping the fleece to the jacket. Not being lazy, and having been a little chilly at 10-degrees last night, I went with the thermals.

A couple of weeks ago I nearly fell off with a dizzy-spell when I dressed for the cold and hit an Indian Summer at Farham and worked up such a sweat I was in wearily stage Heat Exhaustion under surprise temperatures of 18-degrees. I vowed this morning that, If I got too hot again, I'd pull over and remove the jacket liners (but leave the trouser liners intact - I don't want to get either nabbed for "cottaging" (a new term I learned from Hilary at work today) or have my bike stolen while I'm tied at the ankles in Scotchlite fabrics.

I sped fruitfully through Fareham's traffic and made good progress at relaxed speeds to the Double S's at the Waterworks. My nose was gushing; only just under control with well-timed sniffs, and I was having trouble with my glasses steaming up (think laser surgery, Pat). I checked the air temperature gauge and low, it was LOW! 2-degrees with frost in the fields hiding behind the hedges and tall grasses where the Sun couldn't shine!

Image from David Hogan Gallery
Now, I know it wasn't really this cold, but it felt like it and I like the photos Dave's taken so why wait until it snows to show them off?

I adjusted my riding and speed for possible ice and rued the day I promised Ka I'd go up the Motorway on frozen days to try to avoid falling off where the Alpha just slips serenely sideways under a satisfying power-slide. And here I was on frozen tarmac.

By the time I got to Loomies my fingers were getting a little prickly so I turned on the heated grips. I'd had these on all the way home last night despite trying the pair of Ron-Hill fluorescent hi-viz but shite for insulation gloves Ka had brought me to go running in (some - LONG time ago). The grips are great - there's a design flaw in that the wind can still get the fingertips, but mostly they're wicked - and I have given up the body-wrap position and find it easier to ride with just my hands on the bars.

Once on the A31 the Sun was getting a little warmer on my face so I could stop pulling faces (exercising my face muscles) to help prevent my flesh freezing in the windchill coming through the chin skirt under the helmet (still pleasingly damp from the rains a couple of days ago). All danger of ice gone, and with 10-degrees back on the gauge, I opened us up and cruised with panache into Farnham to do my weaviy thing with the cars and lorries there.

As it was my 1st Anniversary for being in a real job I stopped at a supermarket to pick up some cakes for us to scoff in pretend celebration (254 working days and 160 sleeps, as I call the year). It was only now I recognised the population of Frimley were wrapped up in scarves and other seasonal knitwear and wrinkly stockings-style-stuff.

A typical Bolshevik woman from Frimley today

Hey, Winter's here!


*Not really.