Summertime, summertime, sum-sum-summertime. …
Funny how it just kinda sneaks up on us every year. Maybe not.
One minute we’re enjoying a refreshing 65-degree spin on the old bikey bike; the next, Tōnatiuh has cranked up his celestial broiler and is basting us with our own sweat.
The sun god called in sick for the last day of spring. I went out for a short trail run 8-ish and the cool temps and overcast skies made for a most enjoyable outing, if running — even at my casual pace — can ever be termed “enjoyable.”
But yesterday he was back to stoking the furnace and it looks like highs in the mid- to upper 90s for as far as the weatherperson’s instruments can see. Ninety-four yesterday, and b’gosh and b’golly it looks like more of the same today, only more so.
Meanwhile, we are not in Texas, with its tornadoes, triple-digit temps, and tinpot tyrants. We are not fish food in the Mediterranean off Greece. There are no Russian conscripts and mercenaries creeping over the Sandias.
So, no sweat here, not really. Shoot, we haven’t even turned on the air conditioning yet.
Mad Blog Media 
100’s until Sunday. 100 yesterday for about an hour. Next week will be hotter. Obewon is slowing roasting in the Aridzona.
https://forecast.weather.gov/MapClick.php?lat=31.5694&lon=-110.2747#.W6TybC_MxTY
Meanwhile, it’s white rocks at Red Rocks.
Ouch! Ouch, ouch, ouch, Fucki’n ouch, goddamn, ouch.
What was that I was saying about a cave?
The heat, the heat. I know it’s coming. But! It’s not here (where I am at) yet and I’m loving it. I’ll take the cool nights and the 70 degree days. I know it’s coming though. The furnace-like temps that make me think of the winters in Alaska where I wondered (worried about) what would happen if it stayed cold and the world never warmed up again. That was back when only a few smart scientists were wondering about the rising CO2 in the atmosphere. Now, when the summer blasts hit, I think back to those times in Alaska and I worried about the cold. Perhaps I need to moderate my thinking and consider a nice maritime climate like Hawaii. But then the volcano erupts and the hurricane hits. Not to mention too many humanoids on too small of an island(s). What happened to paradise? What? Maybe? A cave somewhere perhaps. But wait, what about earthquakes?
There’s no escape. My one trip to Hawaii (the Big Island), we arrived right after the volcano erupted and just before the tsunami hit. It was still pretty, but I kept thinking what a long swim it was back to the mainland if the sonofabitch went all Atlantis on us.
The thing to worry about in Alaska is melting permafrost.
Yes. The Alaska I knew has changed significantly since I was there. Although it still gets cold in the Winter. But the summers. Ugh! The climate gods are being ruthless with Alaska and the rest of the polar regions.
And in AridZona, it’s melting asphalt.
Funny thing. I remember a stretch of 90+F temps in Fairbanks back in about 1983. The asphalt on the downtown streets was indeed melting.
I am not minding the relatively warm-ish weather lately up here Chicago way (high 80’s), but without much or any rain in many weeks, and not much hope of raindrops to come, I feel like we’re in some type of a dust bowl situation. Farmers losing hope, gardens be dry, and tempers be short. Mine included, since I am forced to miss the Waterford bye-bye event this Saturday morning due to a work schedule that must include me in it. Bah.
We haven’t had any significant rain since May 14, so I feel your pain. A trace here and there, but it doesn’t even tamp down the dust on the trails.
And bummer that you can’t attend the Waterford thing. Did you ever crave a Paramount? I did, once I learned that there was more to Schwinn than the Varsity and Continental. Never got one.
So it goes. At least I collected some work from Steelman and Nobilette.
Paramount you say? My first was when I was about 11 years old, the second a few years later (track Paramount), all from lawn mowing monies. Back in them there days they were all of about $350 per bike. Then I was hired at a store at 15, and two more Paramounts followed. Then an RRB (Ron Boi, local builder). Lets see,… um… then I passed over getting a Phydeaux, mostly because I had too many bikes at the time (who does that?). Phydeaux was Marc Muller’s brand before he was hired by Schwinn for the Paramount 2.0 project. Marc, three years my senior, was the one who helped me get hired at 15; same store at that time that he worked at, and both of us rode with the same racing club. I raced, he didn’t.
Some 9 years later as a Schwinn dealer, I was mostly too busy to keep riding, so there was about 15+ years I didn’t have a good modern road bike. One day, on a whim, I ordered up a custom ParaWaterPhydeauxFordMount from the gang up there, visiting and them taking measurements and spec’ing out something quite “off-the-menu.” They had to bill my store for one Paramount and a huge repair on another frame, which didn’t at all exist, to make up for the custom build price. It was sweet, and worth waiting for. Campy Super Record group adorned the thing. I still have it.
Nice. Bikes and the collecting of same are so much fun. Especially if you’re on a first-name basis with the guy who torched up the frameset.
I was out and about on my favorite Steelman yesterday, a 90-minute ride that blended suburban streets, bike path, cactus-fenced singletrack, the Elena Gallegos Open Space, and one semifast chip-seal descent. It’s nice to be able to say, “OK, enough of this, how about some of that?” Like working your way though a tasting menu, or tapas.
• Click here to embiggen.
Meanwhile….here in the Mitten State we’re living day to day in the smoky haze from Canadian fires. With no rain for many weeks most lawns are crispy and gardens are shriveled for those not with Plan B watering strategies. From record high lake levels to alarming low levels in just a couple years. The Great Lakes ain’t dried up yet but some local wetlands have. Yikes.
Are the blackflies wearing little CamelBaks? New Mexico is starting to feel positively Middle Eastern, with gnats fighting for the moisture in our eyes, ears, and noses.
We’re in for a stretch of high 90s and I can’t say I’m looking forward to it. That sort of thing makes an early riser out of me, and early rising makes me cranky. Crankier. Whatevs.
Hmm….man of few words eh Pat? Or maybe they busted your door down and hauled you off before you could finish your thought? Should’ve paid those parking tickets old boy!
The “blackflies wearing little CamelBaks”deserved a rim shot! The coppers ain’t got me yet. I got Patrick’s Jones well hidden in the garage. He may not yet realized it’s gone. Summer has hit late here. Hard but late. C’mon monsoon!
Man, I am not seeing a monsoon in the immediate future. And our local water wizard, John Fleck, says we can expect the overbanking of the Rio in The Duck! City to come to an end directly as the Army Corps of Engineers throttles back on releases from Cochiti.
We may need umbrellas, but not to keep the raindrops from falling on our heads — instead, to save our scalps from sunburn.