Not Quite Ready for the Chill

Six us of us set off from the Redhook Brewery at 6pm last night with a massive full moon seemingly just feet off the horizon to the east and Mt. Rainier in clear view to the south. There wasn't a cloud to be spotted anywhere, the sun was setting, and it was already about ten degrees colder than I thought it would get. Maybe it's because of how warm it was on Tuesday; perhaps it was because the wildfire coverage put So-Cal weather on my mind; or maybe it was because it just sort of looked warm out. Whatever the reason, I had no idea that the temperature was supposed to drop to below 40 degrees last night.

As an aside, I'd like to see the Seattle Times put the weather forecast on the sports page... every one of them. How am I supposed to know it was going to get so cold when they stick the weather forecast on the back page of the Local section... just after the obituaries? I can see putting the broadcast schedule for Matlock and Golden Girls reruns near the obits, but the weather?

Anyway, getting back to riding my bike, it took a good 6 or 7 miles for my chest to get used to the frigid air I was gasping for -- I felt like I was back in the mountains although we were only 300 feet above sea level -- and by the time we hit the halfway point, my toes had already gone numb. I had a rather thin layer of socks on, three-quarter length tights, a short-sleeve base layer and a lightweight fleece longsleeve on with a pair of full-finger glove liners. Other than my toes going numb, I was feeling rather fine. Then it got darker and colder and we hit the 40 mph descent on the Tolt Pipeline trail. Muy frio!

Last time I checked, it's still only October. And, for that matter, this is western Washington. We typically only get a handful of days each year below freezing, but the temp was already into the 30s last night. Again, in October.

I was not counting on having to dig out my winter cycling apparel at least for a few more weeks, but so much for that idea. What a time to buy a new bike! Be sure to wave if you see a fleece and gore-tex mummy pushing a purple single-speed up a hill, as that will probably be me.