|Ready for more|
|Snow on the bridge|
The winter tires on the bike are good for up to an inch of snow. More than that and they bog down in it. Generally, the roads are clear enough. The traction of the knobby tires has been helpful in this.
With March, came a few days of cold weather, but my parka is thick with down and fends it off without any difficulty. My gloves not so much. I get home with fingers so numb I can't get off the helmet. They are like pieces of rubber at the ends of my arms, and I bite them to see that they are mine, but there's no sensation. they aren't my hands anymore, just dead things. I can move them, but without any sense of touch, it's much more difficult to do things. If I can't see to command them, there's no use. The clasp under my chin will have to wait until life is back. With renewed sensation, comes a firey sting, as the zombified nerve endings awaken and let known the displeasure of my digits at being treated so.