We've been having a cold snap over here. Winter temperatures with a vengeance, and I've blogged about it quite a lot. I know.
On Saturday, I headed out early-ish, cheerfully abandoning my entire to-do list and a sink full of washing up in favour of riding, and hopefully beating the worst of the traffic. I have a friend who keeps making "pillion, please" noises, but I fear she is an Owl and I ride too Lark-like for her. I'm not a natural Lark. I just enjoy quiet, clear roads more than busy ones, and I live in a city. Also, I am far less conscientious than she. I am happy to ignore the mounting pile of tasks in favour of even cold and slippish roads.
(They weren't wet, per se, and they weren't properly icy, either. Just somewhere in between. Not quite dry, not quite slippery).
I spent the ride taking my mind off the cold by debating the Speed/Time compromise The longer you ride, the colder you get, but the faster you ride, the colder you get. So is speed or time going to be ultimately colder?
I stopped at a nice cafe in Kent (there are a few, but this one has parking) and as soon as I entered a waiter asked if I'd like to order a drink. Yes. Coffee. Extra hot.
