...snow. Wheelchairs aren't really at their best in it. It's better than sand, being a little more sticky, so that it's possible to push through with decent off-road tyres. But it's cold. Very cold. And it makes the pushrims on the wheels very cold. And wet.
This makes finding the right gloves critical, as they have to be reasonably waterproof and still grippy when wet. And you still need to maintain a reasonable level of dexterity. I have tried many variations. Sailing gloves, which are my first choice normally are great for grip but freezing in the snow. Fleece gloves are great for keeping warm (although the seams inevitably leak) but they're lethal when wet. After running out of control on a relatively gentle slope and gliding elegantly into a large shrubbery, I decided the fleece gloves had to go.
I have even tried neoprene gloves which are certainly warm but much too grippy, making 'braking' sudden and very unpleasant and leaving the wheelchair user with whiplash at the bottom of the first hill. But thankfully I have rediscovered some gloves that the missus bought me for cycling in the winter a couple of years before my accident. They have pretty good grip, but not too much, and I can still feel my fingers after five minutes so it is those that will adorn my hands on the way the the Arsenal this evening, if the match isn't snowed off.
Sorry, that's much too much waffle about gloves. The truth is, for all my bravado, off-road tyres and warm gloves, I find the snow very difficult. Not because It's so hard to get around in. OK, that doesn't help much, but that is as nothing compared to the feeling of sadness at not really being able to take R up to the park, build a snowman, go zipping down hills with plastic bags for toboggans, and then carry her home when her feet are too cold to walk anymore.
So instead I glance out of the window facing an internal struggle between the child-like almost instinctive excitement, and the curmudgeonly practical gloom as the snow continues to fall.
I'll be honest, the worst thing about the comparison between the sand of the beach and the snow of the city is when they are separated by a matter of days and about 35 degrees celsius.
See what you think. Which of these two pictures looks more appealing, especially without any cocoa? By the way, it's not raining in the bottom pic, it's a sprinkler I went to sit under because I was overheating.
This makes finding the right gloves critical, as they have to be reasonably waterproof and still grippy when wet. And you still need to maintain a reasonable level of dexterity. I have tried many variations. Sailing gloves, which are my first choice normally are great for grip but freezing in the snow. Fleece gloves are great for keeping warm (although the seams inevitably leak) but they're lethal when wet. After running out of control on a relatively gentle slope and gliding elegantly into a large shrubbery, I decided the fleece gloves had to go.
I have even tried neoprene gloves which are certainly warm but much too grippy, making 'braking' sudden and very unpleasant and leaving the wheelchair user with whiplash at the bottom of the first hill. But thankfully I have rediscovered some gloves that the missus bought me for cycling in the winter a couple of years before my accident. They have pretty good grip, but not too much, and I can still feel my fingers after five minutes so it is those that will adorn my hands on the way the the Arsenal this evening, if the match isn't snowed off.
Sorry, that's much too much waffle about gloves. The truth is, for all my bravado, off-road tyres and warm gloves, I find the snow very difficult. Not because It's so hard to get around in. OK, that doesn't help much, but that is as nothing compared to the feeling of sadness at not really being able to take R up to the park, build a snowman, go zipping down hills with plastic bags for toboggans, and then carry her home when her feet are too cold to walk anymore.
So instead I glance out of the window facing an internal struggle between the child-like almost instinctive excitement, and the curmudgeonly practical gloom as the snow continues to fall.
I'll be honest, the worst thing about the comparison between the sand of the beach and the snow of the city is when they are separated by a matter of days and about 35 degrees celsius.
See what you think. Which of these two pictures looks more appealing, especially without any cocoa? By the way, it's not raining in the bottom pic, it's a sprinkler I went to sit under because I was overheating.
Ask me again on Monday ...
Mid thirties are one thing - forties quite another.
I shall sit in my little hotbox of a home office and salivate over the snow pic.