Commuting in the extreme

A couple of months ago, a co-worker asked if I had ridden my bike to work that day.It was wet or windy or cold or something, and he thought it not fit for cycling to work.I said I had, and it sparked a brief conversation about the worst weather I ever had ridden in. He suggested it might make a decent blog topic, and I agreed … then forgot about it until the other night, when I bundled up for my evening ride to work in what were the coldest conditions I can recall for a long, long time: By the time my fingers had thawed enough to allow typing again, I surfed on over to weather.com to learn it was a chilly 7 degrees, with a 13-17 mph wind that dropped the wind chill to 6 below.It was forecast to get colder for the ride home, too, with wind chills of 10 below or, well, below. Brrr.That’s approaching all-timer territory, though I recall a couple of commutes where the windchill reached the negative teens. That’s about as cold as it gets around here, so that has to be a personal record for cold.One thing I’ve noticed about riding in the cold is that it’s a lot like flying or going to the dentist. Dreading it usually is worse than doing it.Unlike sitting in a cold car, you actually can generate a little heat as you pedal, but it’s a delicate balance. The faster you pedal, the warmer you get; but the faster you go, the worse the windchill. The key is to find the balance: Go fast enough to warm up, but not so fast you cool yourself off.Cold-weather riding also makes me think about a saying used on just about every outdoor activity since time began: There is no bad weather, only bad gear. And, to an extent, it’s true. Good gear can keep you warm, but, again, there is a balance.I have warmer clothes I could wear, but at some point you lose so much mobility it becomes difficult to ride. I could bundle up like Ralphie’s brother, Randy in “A Christmas Story,” but I’d be hard-pressed to turn a crank. So I layer up as much as possible and hope it’s enough.Of course, since this is Kansas, extreme-weather rides aren’t limited to the lower end of the mercury.I’ve ridden to work in temperatures exceeding 100 degrees, though my hottest ride came during the aptly named Hotter’n Hell Hundred, a 100-mile ride in Wichita Falls, Texas, a couple of years ago. It reached 107 degrees for that one, and organizers shut it down for the poor saps who didn’t make it to the midway point in time for fear they’d be dropping off their bikes. And my ride was made a bit warmer by the gauze wrapped around my hip, leg and forearm: first aid for the spill I took about 30 miles in.Wind is another extreme. I routinely ride in winds that reach into the 20-30 mph range. Just a few weeks ago, I had to run by the store on my way to work. As I left the store, I was hit by several blasts of wind that literally threatened to knock me off my bike. By the time I made it to the office, the gusts had died a bit, but weather.com still reported them at 50 mph. I don’t pay much attention, but that has to be a PR, or close to it.I also have ridden in thunderstorms (normally by mistake), snow, sleet and just about every other form of precip possible. The exception is hail. I’ve ridden in thunderstorm warnings, wind advisories and winter-storm watches. I’ve ridden in tornado watches and heat advisories.What can I say? I’m a Kansas cyclist. If I wanted 70 and sunny all the time, I’d move.