So after blasting through a pretty mild fall and landing squarely into winter on New Year's Eve, I thought we'd made it. We'd crossed the hump. New Years was just getting us ready for last week.
Last week as a record storm plowed across much of the country from Texas up to the northeast, New Mexico got its own storm. Temperature's plummeted. Suddenly, even though the roads were dry, crawling on the bike to get across town didn't seem like a good idea.
So on Wednesday afternoon, I strapped on my gear and headed out for a short jaunt, about a mile and a half, to do a radio spot for a show that weekend. School had been canceled; work had been canceled, and the high was forecast for a balmy 9 degrees. The wind was coming from the east and I was riding due east.
I'd tightened down my head sock, pulled my sunglasses on and marveled at how easily the wind seemed to find every possible uncovered skin. By the time I made it to the radio station, though generally warm, my face was indeed frozen.
I did my spot, rode home and didn't leave the house.
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