Typing my 500th post with frozen fingers

Well, Dan did it yesterday, and here I am with my own 500th post.

Boy was it chilly this morning: a notch below freezing upon departure according to the thermometer on my bike. Right after I left home, I had some nincompoop lay on his horn for about 5 seconds behind me. I'm not sure what the deal was there. As usual, Quivira had a clear lane in which I could easily be passed without the fanfare of a blaring klaxon piercing the crisp air. I'm certain that the multiplex-dwellers adjacent to the road were thankful for the early awakening. Perhaps they'll have time for an extra cup of coffee this morning.

When the motorist's ADD kicked in and he grew bored of honking at me, he decided to change lanes, then slow down to make a left onto 79th. The motorist needed the left lane anyways. His horn sure showed me who's boss, though. I am simply not worthy of using the road in the mighty presence of that four-cylinder, front wheel drive supercar. I am still in awe of the 90 foot-pounds of street-shredding torque. Oh, wait. That's not even enough torque to snug the lug nuts down on most cars' wheels.

With the rogue motorist satisfied that he's got the superior machine, I was able to relax and enjoy the scenery. Little frosty tips adorned foliage on the roadside. Blades of grass glistened and danced like pale green emeralds in the intense white beam of my headlight. The world seems to be quieter when the air is frigid.

It took me a while to settle into a groove where my body could stay warm without sweating. It was made more difficult by my feet and hands being under-layered. The desire to warm up my extremities pushed on my will to stay sweat-free. At freezing temperatures and being miles away from any public place that's open, sweating is a losing battle. I kept my pace work stable and rode onward with increasingly cold extremities. Had the need arisen, I could have pulled out some of my work clothes to keep warm. I always carry a pair of socks to change into at work. I could have stopped to double-layer my feet. I could have pulled out some of my old plastic bags from inside my panniers to wrap around my hands, keeping the wind from penetrating the thin cloth of my gloves. Stopping just makes me colder, though. I fought through it.

Once I got to Main, I pushed significantly harder, finally allowing my whole body to warm up very nicely. I knew I'd have the ability to dry off over coffee.

Random Tunage:
Underworld - Pearls Girl
Steve Porter - Vodka Cranberries