The day before yesterday, I boarded a plane in the Coachella Valley in the Southern California desert where the temperature hovered comfortably around 80 degrees. A couple of hours later, I landed in Denver Colorado where it was 8 degrees.
Eight.
Which immediately raises the obvious question:
Why would any sane individual do that?
At 80 degrees, life is generous. It makes allowances. It forgives poor decisions.
At 8 degrees, life is not in a forgiving mood.
In warm weather, clothing is mostly a matter of taste. You choose outfits the way you choose ice cream flavors—based on mood. Shorts or long pants? Sleeves or no sleeves? Shoes are optional in spirit, if not in law.
At 8 degrees, clothing becomes a strategy. Not an outfit. A strategy.
Layers matter. Fabric matters. Zippers, cuffs, insulation, wind resistance—all suddenly relevant. You don’t “throw something on.” You assemble yourself. You dress like someone who has read the instruction manual.
Shoes, I discovered, are no longer accessories. They are safety equipment.
Food and drink behave differently too. In warm weather, drinks sweat. In cold weather, they freeze—or at least threaten to. Warm weather encourages cold drinks. Cold weather demands hot ones. Soup suddenly makes sense. So does oatmeal. So does anything that radiates warmth and reassurance.
Even eating changes. In 80 degrees, you graze. In 8 degrees, you fuel.
Then there’s the matter of stepping outside.
In warm weather, you say things like, “I’ll just step out for a minute.”
At 8 degrees, that sentence carries consequences.
Faces hurt. Hands complain. Wind becomes personal. Time compresses. You move with purpose. No lingering. No casual wandering. You do what you came to do and return indoors victorious.
What struck me most, though, was how quickly attitude becomes part of the equation.
In warm weather, attitude is optional. The environment does most of the work. In cold weather, attitude matters a lot. Complaining doesn’t help. Denial doesn’t help. Overconfidence really doesn’t help.
Cold demands respect.
It also sharpens awareness. You notice the texture of gloves, the seal around your neck, the exact moment heat escapes. You become mindful without trying to be. Presence is enforced.
There are also things you simply do not do.
You do not underestimate the cold.
You do not ignore the forecast.
You do not pretend you’re tougher than physics.
And you definitely do not say, “It’s not that bad,” unless you are prepared to be corrected immediately.
Somehow, in all of this, I found myself oddly appreciative.
Eighty degrees is lovely. I’m not arguing otherwise. But it flatters us. It lets us believe we are more adaptable, more carefree, more capable than we sometimes are.
Eight degrees tells the truth.
It reminds us that comfort is conditional. That preparation matters. That small oversights add up. And that the environment—whether weather, circumstance, or stage of life—sets the rules whether we like them or not.
Yesterday, I went from sandals to survival mode in a single flight.
And while I’m still not convinced it was a sane decision, I will say this:
Cold has a way of waking you up.
You feel it.
You respect it.
And for better or worse, you adjust.
Neil, to experience an even greater contrast fly 3 hours north to Manitoba where I grew up. Last week it was 50 below not a mere 15 below zero like in Denver. You’d find another level of survival. We carried candles in our car for heat in case of brake down. We left cars idling 24 hours a day because plugging in the block heater the cars would not start in that cold if that level of cold persisted for a week. Not many latte slurping Tesla owners up there! Incidentally for the first 19 years of my life I lived in a 425 sq ft log house with no central heat nor indoor plumbing and for my first 10 years no electricity, Outhouses are a very bracing experience in even zero degree temps!
earl,
well, finally, your history as a child with no electricity and no indoor plumbing explains your “bristly” personality!
neil
Bristly, you say! Do you mean unshaven, bewhiskered, ascerbic or pragmatic? Whatever,, but NEVER naïve! Eh!
Stay warm my friend and keep yer powder dry!
When I helped introduce Pickleball to ORI and served as VP of the HOA and started the Bunion Wedge Match Play Golf Tournament , which just ran its 16 Annual, I was never referred to as bristly, sometimes prickly with the ly missing.. Regards, Eh!
As a younger man, I longed for the cold weather that brought me to ice fishing, backcountry skiing, and downhill skiing. I gave up that foolishness long ago and now recognize that for every 10 years of experience I’ve gained, I require an additional 10º to go out and play.
Along with the age-old adage that there’s no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing, I’d add this advice: embrace the cold and rain. Relax and embrace the elements rather than fight. When you become one with the elements rather than foes, you’ll find joy in challenging weather. Plus, there’s the bragging rights you can share with cowardly friends who shy away from adventure.
Now at my age, I have the good sense to seek shelter and a hot beverage while looking forward to spring.