Last December 3rd, the weather sites and the local TV station said it was going to be a beautiful 45° day. So I headed out for one of my long rides. About an hour out I passed through a very small country town where there was a time/temperature sign saying it was 22°. I was very surprised but I felt great so I kept riding. It was a beautiful day, clear blue sky no traffic. Another 45 minutes later I noticed I was approaching a dark frozen fog bank. I rode right into it and did notice a drop in the temperature, but I kept going. Soon my fingers started to get very cold, but I was near the 1/2 way mark. Then I realized my fingers were so cold I was having trouble shifting and breaking couldn't even get a grip on the handlebars. I tried warming my hands in my arm pits, but that didn't help at all. So I kept riding, heading for home. I felt warm everywhere, except I couldn't feel my feet at all and my fingers were frozen. Eventually I got back to the small town which wasn't much more than a gas station deli, still 22°. I went in and held my hands against the hot dog cooker, very hot. Bought a blueberry muffin and they filled my frozen water bottles with hot water, I stuck one under my jersey and coat and felt mostly warmed up, I headed for home. There were two steep long hills that helped keep me warm, and the hot water bottle under my coat was a life saver. I don't trust the weather reports any more, I over dress and take off layers as needed. Plus I bought two Zipo hand warmers and a bunch of the disposable kind. I don't think I'll ever go out again without at least a few disposable hand warmers ever again. Maybe if it's well over 80° this coming summer. 57 miserable miles, but it was a beautiful day and I survived, so a good ride.