A week or so ago I couldn't get out of the house for a Saturday ride until 10:00 or so. It was a great loop--mostly shady roads, but definitely with sections where the sun had a chance to beat down on my back, arms and legs (my trucker tan is getting fierce).
Even though I was only out for two hours, during a time far from the hottest part of the day, after about an hour I could actually feel any perspiration instantly evaporate. The sensation is odd. You're aware of being warm, but never getting sweaty. You know you're pounding down water, but your skin only gets salty. Even my lips felt dry.
Riding last night with a friend we compared notes on post-ride sweating. I guess we ran out of more adult things to talk about: politics, business, contemporary art (did you check out Lance's Paris bike? Holy crap!), family, etc. It's funny because a decade or so ago the focus of conversations used to be on motorcycles, bikes, women and, well that was it--motos, bikes and women. I know, I'm a real bastard. Or at least I used to be.
Anyway, a number of times lately I've finished rides feeling completely parched, a bit out of sorts, smelly and salty (the coarse kind--like sea salt), but not at all sweaty. That is until I stepped foot into my cooler and shaded garage. In the time it took to open the door, take off my helmet, remove the water bottles and hang up my bike, I was absolutely soaked in sweat. I'm not talking about a little bit on my legs, I'm talking about rivers of perspriation pouring from my skin. It's kind of freaky.
So with that outstanding visual, I leave you to an enjoyable Tuesday morning (or whenever).
And here's to the miraculous cooling effect of evaporation.