People,

I've been telling myself all summer that I am a man. A real man. I mean, everyone told me that once it got cold riding my motorycycle would be pure folly. You'll freeze, they said. Your fingers will turn blue and all you'll be able to think about is stretching out in front of a sweet smelling cedar log fire with a cup of tea, covered in a bearsking rug. Well, ok, only one guy said that and he's pretty weird, but you get my point.

Anyway, I said that they were all crazy. I loved riding so much that I thought I could tough out anything. But today folks I realized I may have to revise some of my earlier thinking. I am C-O-L-D cold. This morning the bitter November air treated me like a cat treats a mouse who is just hanging on for dear life, just waiting to deliver the final fatal blow. And my poor man-parts? Don't even ask....

This week may just be the test.