I moved from Arizona, so heat is nothing new to me. Nothing says August like sitting in a car on the freeway in Phoenix, with no AC on a 105 degree evening. But then there's Portland in August. We hit 90 and the news folks go all atwitter with ominous warnings of "Heat Wave 2008!" I find it comical to say the least. But yes, it hes been hot. Hot with a capital "f". It's the kind of hot where you start sweating the moment you walk outside.
And I'm the dumb-ass riding my bike out in it. Me and the other half of Portland.
So I get to work the other day, one of those 100+ degree days and I'm sweaty. Dripping in fact. One of my co-workers says to me, "Isn't it a little hot to be riding your bike?"
"It's not like I have much of a choice." I respond. Inside my head I'm saying, "Yeah, it probably is, but hey, at least I'm enjoying the weather."
I'm writing this to file it away, so when January hits and I'm layered in 13 layers of fleece and waterproof fabric being blown around by the wind and blinded by the falling rain, I can remember that the opposite is not exactly the most pleasant thing. Me, I'll take bad weather over heat any day. At last you can warm up.