Rides, ramblings and rants on a motorcycle.
- We are scientists, too!
12.05.2006,12:45 PM
When digits freeze over
My fingers hate me.
Although the rest of my body was warmish under all the gear I wore on this morning's commute, my hands were anything but. Despite the two pairs of gloves. I wore the new electric vest and it kept me warmer than without. Now if only I can plug it in, get some juice from the battery and actual heat.......
Three miles from home my finger tips were protesting. Ten miles, they were screaming. On the highway all ten digits were slamming nasty messages to my brain:
'What the hell do you think you're doing?? We're freezing here! Are you nuts??'
They sought refuge by trying to curl up inside the palm of the gloves when they had a chance, but the right fingers were not allowed. They were required wrapped around the throttle grip. They tried to flee by straightening, only to find the wind driving the cold deeper.
By the time I was nearing the train station, the cells in my fingertips were screaming, 'Hypothermia, hypothermia!! Danger, danger, you dumb human brain!!'
With controlled eagerness to jump off the bike and thankful for the green lights near the station, I rolled into the parking lot, nodding to my fellow bike rider as he sat on his TR Sprint and his electrics plugged in. I rounded the corner, picked out my parking spot and floated in for a landing. Quickly shifting into neutral, kicking the sidestand down, dismounting and pulling the gloves off, my fingers zoned in on the remaining heat exiting the exhaust.
Then it was payback time.
Anyone who has had digits -feet, toes, fingers, nose- numbed by cold knows the pain when circulation fights its way back through the vessels and capillaries, slapping cells and slugging pain receptors, all shooting loud, nasty mean messages to the brain: "OWWWWW!!!!!"
It hurts. I don't remember my ankle and foot as painful as this when it was crushed. This freakin' hurt like Hell!
I need heated grips.........
Although the rest of my body was warmish under all the gear I wore on this morning's commute, my hands were anything but. Despite the two pairs of gloves. I wore the new electric vest and it kept me warmer than without. Now if only I can plug it in, get some juice from the battery and actual heat.......
Three miles from home my finger tips were protesting. Ten miles, they were screaming. On the highway all ten digits were slamming nasty messages to my brain:
'What the hell do you think you're doing?? We're freezing here! Are you nuts??'
They sought refuge by trying to curl up inside the palm of the gloves when they had a chance, but the right fingers were not allowed. They were required wrapped around the throttle grip. They tried to flee by straightening, only to find the wind driving the cold deeper.
By the time I was nearing the train station, the cells in my fingertips were screaming, 'Hypothermia, hypothermia!! Danger, danger, you dumb human brain!!'
With controlled eagerness to jump off the bike and thankful for the green lights near the station, I rolled into the parking lot, nodding to my fellow bike rider as he sat on his TR Sprint and his electrics plugged in. I rounded the corner, picked out my parking spot and floated in for a landing. Quickly shifting into neutral, kicking the sidestand down, dismounting and pulling the gloves off, my fingers zoned in on the remaining heat exiting the exhaust.
Then it was payback time.
Anyone who has had digits -feet, toes, fingers, nose- numbed by cold knows the pain when circulation fights its way back through the vessels and capillaries, slapping cells and slugging pain receptors, all shooting loud, nasty mean messages to the brain: "OWWWWW!!!!!"
It hurts. I don't remember my ankle and foot as painful as this when it was crushed. This freakin' hurt like Hell!
I need heated grips.........
