Hell 'bent freezes over

It was in the mid-twenty degree range when Cliff and Dave showed up just minutes after 6 a.m. this Sunday. I had threatened to wear "everything I own" but opted instead for a generous heaping of wool and a couple of heat paks in my lobsters.

About one mile after rolling out though, I felt uncharacteristically chilled in the mid-section and wondered why before glancing down to see that my windbreaker zipper had protested over containing my heavy wool sweater. Happily, the quick repair held for the remainder of the ride.

I rode without glasses to avoid the fogging blindness that comes with the territory and did my impersonation of Mr. Magoo while dodging frightened rabbits fleeing before blazing bike lights.

After fifteen minutes, my apprehensions about surviving the frigid morning had melted away and I eased back into the ride. I won't say I could have gone on forever. When we arrived at the restaurant in Fairport, the cold was seeping in at the edges, but I was happy and invigorated. My gear was right for the conditions and I had gotten to ride yet another Hell 'bent with my pals.

Life is good.