Cold morning

The air in Manitou, warmed against the red rock by the sun, has to be at least fifteen degrees warmer than the air a few hundred feet down slope on Colorado Avenue.  Morning rides are a bit of a trial right now.  It’s not exactly the cold temps at 8am, rather it’s the knowing that in four hours it will be thirty degrees warmer. 

No matter, I pull on my light winter tights (my real winter tights haven’t been used since I rode in the real winter weather of Iowa), dig out the wool socks and pick out my old Wheaton jacket.  That jacket is coming into its own here in Colorado.  As I told Dan, my cycling come-librarian friend from DWC, the jacket makes me sweat like a plastic bag but it doesn’t breathe.  I can wear it with a tank top and be just fine here at altitude and forty degrees.  Iowa wind, cold and humidity would freeze the sleeves to my bear arms. 

I rode up Gold Camp Road, turned around and came home.  It’s about 1200 feet of climbing in sixteen miles and not a bad workout.  My replacement crank is a compact with a 50/34 (the teeth on the big and small rings).  A 34 chainring paired with a 26 cog on the rear cassette now means I can spin up anything.  Nice on a cold day.