Big sun was burning bright in the sky--at least as much as sun can burn in January around here--and it seemed like an ideal time to hop on the bike.
Actually, I hopped on the bike yesterday. It looked equally promising as regards the sun, but the temps didn't quite clear freezing, and there was cold breeze out of the north...as it turned out. My mistake was going out, too optimistically, in summer biking gloves. Bit by bit my fingers got colder and colder. I tried every trick to keep them warm, including going up to cars at stoplights, and putting my hands where the exhaust was coming out, all to no avail. But we survived.
Today was enough degrees more better (great English!) that it was an altogether different experience, and I rode long south of town and back, getting comfortably toasty in the process. Very nice.
Except for a big time wreck across 287 several miles south of town. After biking and driving up to Happy Jack, the helicopter light on the hospital was revolving, and it was still turning when I drove by in the dark a few years later. There's no guarantee the lights had anything to do with the wreck, but that's where I would put my money.
Skiing was terrific. It was dead calm and it made me think about Saturday when it was total scream method wind from start to finish. Saw all sorts of people I recognized and skied with a few of them. Didn't see Steve Tyler.