It's Too Cold....For What?

This afternoon, the temperature has risen to 55F (12C).  That's about 12F (6C) higher than normal for this time of year. 

Three days ago, the temperature dropped to -1F (-18C) at dawn, giving us the coldest morning we've had in over two decades. It was Valentine's Day--a Sunday, to boot-- and when I went outside, nobody was on the streets.  (That might mean that a lot of babies will be born in November.)  None of us who might normally ride on a Sunday were pedaling down the pavement.  Even the delivery men for the 24 hour diner seemed to have taken the morning off.

Before that, we had a week or so of relatively mild weather, preceded by a blizzard, which was in turn preceded by warmer-than-usual-for-early-winter temps.


In years past, there always seemed to be a spell of a few weeks when the weather was "too cold" for most people, including dedicated cyclists, to ride.  Of course, what people in this part of the world deem as "too cold" would seem absolutely tropical in, say, northern Quebec or the eastern plains of Montana.  But I would imagine that even in such places there are conditions which even the hardiest and most seasoned cyclists, hikers and other outdoorspeople dare not venture.

This year, though, we seem to have had almost no such stretch of weather.  Aside from a couple of abnormally cold days (like Valentine's Day or the weekend of the blizzard), we have not had terribly wintry conditions.  Within two days of the blizzard, the temperature rose to 50F (10C), so the snow didn't remain for very long.  And the snow that fell in the wee hours of yesterday morning is a memory, distanced by the warmer-than-average conditions we're having today.

Still, when I showed up at  my job today, one of my colleagues expressed disbelief that I cycled in.  "It's too cold!"

"Too cold for what?" I wondered aloud.

"Well, it is still winter, you know.  You must be cold." 

I wasn't, but I took her up on her offer of a hot chocolate.  It is indeed winter, whether or not "it's too cold".

Frosty On A Bike

Today the temperature reached 50F and I didn't ride.

Why? 

I just lost a riding partner...

Out Again And Iced

Yesterday I rode my bike to work for the first time in nearly a month.  The day started with light rain that ended just as I was about to set off.  The 42 F (6C) temperature was milder than it's been most of this winter.  And, as if I could perform some sort of meteorological manipualtion, the skies began to clear as I began to pedal.  By the time I got within a few blocks of my main job, I was pedaling under sunshine.


And the day grew brighter--but colder.  Early in the afternoon, when I rode to my second job, the temperature had dropped enough for me to notice the wind, which was stiffening, through the sleeves of the sweater I wore under my down vest.


(Interestingly, after I parked my bike, one of the security guards asked whether I was cold.  "And how do you ride in that skirt?," she wondered.  I surprised her when I said that I don't feel cold as much below my waist as I do above it.)


All the way to my second job, I didn't see any ice in the streets.  I saw occasional patches of slush that looked like soot-flavored (as if there were such a thing) Slush Puppies.  They presented no problem, especially with the cyclocross-treaded tires I'd mounted on Marianela.


But when I got to my second job, parking was a bit of a problem:

This is the same bike rack that was full--and in which I saw a Pinarello--every time I rode there during the fall.   So I locked my bike to the fence surrounding the campus.


After my classes there, I rode back to my main job for a meeting with a student.  By that time, the temperature had dropped by at least 20 degrees (F).  Luckily, I didn't encounter ice.  After that meeting (which lasted about half an hour), I started to pedal home. About three miles into a ten-mile trip, I  managed to ride down a street that was glazing with ice.  If I were in the country, I probably would have continued riding.  However, I was near the Queens County Courthouse, and a station of the E and F subway lines.  And, by that time, I was pedaling (with a fixed gear) into a wind that, I would find out later, was blowing at 20 to 25 mph.  Plus, I had a dinner date and didn't want to be late!

Coming Out of The Cold and Leaving

I can't stop thinking about him.


OK, this isn't going where you think it's going!  


The other morning, when I was doing my laundry, I saw him.  He was riding a department-store mountain bike in the snow that had fallen through the night.  If he wasn't homeless, he looked like he was less than a paycheck away from it.  Or, if I want to be more charitable or simply literary, I could say that he looks like a grizzly bear that just came out of detox.


Wherever he doesn't go on his bike, he walks.  He doesn't even take the subway or bus, he told me. I believe him:  I've seen him around the neighborhood before, but I'd never talked with him until the other day.


He asked me whether it would be OK to put his shoes in one of the dryers.  I don't work there, I explained, so I don't make the rules.  And, I told him, I didn't think the person in charge was anywhere in sight. 


So he put his shoes--more like sneakers, really--in one of the floor-level dryers.  And when it heated up, he propped his feet against the door.  "Can't get frostbite," he explained.


After I loaded one of the other dryers, I went around the corner for a cup of tea.  I offered to bring one back for him--or a hot chocolate, coffee, or whatever else he wanted.  "Oh, no thank you, Miss.  You're too kind."


When I returned to the laundromat, he and his bike were gone.

Takin' It Slow In The Snow

When there's snow on the ground and ice on there road--the conditions we've had here since Christmas--you ride more slowly.  Of course, it makes sense, especially if you ride in the dark, as I sometimes do when I'm riding home from work.  There's nothing like hitting a patch of ice you didn't see when you're pedalling at 20 mph!


Even though I know it's sensible to ride more slowly in the conditions we've had, I don't make any effort to do so.  Somehow I just find myself pedaling, sometimes, as if the cold air were turning into molasses.  I wonder:  Does cold air slow us down?  Or is it the somnolence I often feel on winter days?  The latter makes some sense:  After all, most primates move more slowly--if, of course, they're not hibernating.  Does it have to do with the shorter days?


Or maybe it has to do with the fact that, about this time of year, I'm starting to lose whatever conditioning I built up during the summer and fall. 


Another good reason to cycle more slowly, I've discovered, is that brakes--rim brakes, anyway--seem to take longer to stop than they do in milder weather.  I wonder whether the cold surface of the rim has anything to do with it.  Or, perhaps, brake pads harden a bit in the cold.

From Cyclelicious

If my hypotheses are correct, do they also apply to disc brakes?  I've never owned a bike that had them, and I've ridden them only a couple of times, never in the cold.  But those of you who've ridden them--or all of you scientists and engineers:  What do you think?


I experienced the inverse of what I described the first time I cycled into the Alps. Just outside of Pontarlier, I had just crossed the border from France into Switzerland and, on a descent about a kilometer into Switzerland,  I got a flat.  When I pulled on my brake levers, it took more and more force to get the bike even to keep the bike from accelerating, let alone to slow it down or stop it.   Fortunately, the turns in the road weren't especially sharp and  only one car passed me from the time I pedaled out of Pontarlier.  So, I was able to stop the bike not far from the base of that descent.  


When I took off the wheel, my finger glanced off the side of the rim as if I'd touched a frying pan.  And my fingertip throbbed red for the rest of the day.  


I wonder what riding in winter there would've been like.

Before The Next Storm: Last Bike Standing

The week before Christmas, the bike rack was as full as it was in September.  Throughout this winter intercession, there have been two bikes--until today.  Then there was one:

Yes, that's Marianela.  She doesn't seem to mind the cold so much as being perched on a snowbank that's turned to ice.  She doesn't seem forlorn or lonely.  But I think she wouldn't mind a warm blanket and some hot cocoa.  There's noting like imputing one's own wishes to a bicycle, right?


Actually, if she had her own volition, she would've wanted to get home after seeing this:

That's the "It's gonna snow any  second" sky.  Light snow began to fall about five minutes before I got home.  If it snows as steadily and heavily as the forecasters expect, I probably won't be riding into work tomorrow. 


 Mine was the last bike standing today

Cozying Up

I've tried to get Charlie and Max interested in cycling.  But they aren't interested in the hard work:  They like to supervise.

Max, at least, makes an effort at looking busy.  (Is that something like acting sincere?  I actually heard someone say that.)  Of course, there's no contract, but there are no rules about sleeping on the job.  Charlie knows that very well:

It was below freezing and, with the wind chill, about fifteen degrees colder.  I got on my bike to go to work.  Now you tell me:  Which species is more intelligent and evolved?