I woke at 3:45am and knew I'd need the toilet soon. It's 5⁰, but feels like half that. The slight breeze isn't helping. The toilet isn't close. And I need to pack up first. I'm lucky it isn't raining. No dew is a bonus. The tent is dry.
I've contemplated leaving everything, going to the toilet and returning to pack up later. But that seems a waste. I don't leave my tent up. I'm not going to go back to bed. Two trips, and I'd still need to pack up.
I change clothes, rugging up for the cold. Pack the sleep wear, sleeping quilt, foam mat, and the tent. As the toilet urgency increases, I get more efficient packing.
Riding, thankfully, delays the need. I wonder if it's evolutionary adaptation or just the way the muscles work.
The deed done, I'm free to think about what next for the day. The sun isn't up for hours yet, and it feels colder now.
Enjoying the peace of this early morning, I walk pushing, or scootering my bike. On one slightly downhill section of footpath, I pretend I'm competing in a luge. I crouch over the handlebars, one foot on a pedal, the other leg stretched backwards, coasting, trying to get as streamlined as I can. Each day I note how far I make it compared to a street light pole. Some days more, others less. My best day might have had a tail wind, but there's skill involved too. The straightest lines, avoiding holes and bumps.
The sun isn't up yet, and it feels colder. Though I wear sandals, I switched to wool socks on my feet a few weeks ago, so my toes are okay. I've put thick socks over half finger gloves to keep my fingers warm. My sock friends. Thumb at the heel, fingers in the foot and they work like mitts. I keep meaning to find my full finger gloves, but forget in the afternoon warmth. Today I'll remember. Rain is coming. The full finger gloves are waterproof, unlike my sock friends.
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| A Sock Friend |
