By the time my wife and I woke up early Sunday morning, the neighbors' camper was already parked back in their driveway. You can't blame them for bailing out early, especially if the weather down south was anything like it was up north, which is where I foolishly headed on Saturday morning. Before the ominous weather forecasts started rolling in about midweek, I had arranged to meet a friend for a last round on the links in Santa Fe. If we were smart, we would have bagged the idea when we saw the weather outlook. But neither one of us wanted to be the one to chicken out, so we went ahead with our plans despite clear evidence we were headed for a miserable experience.
Golf is a sport meant to be played in shirt sleeves, in the sun and ideally at a relaxed pace.
Long underwear, turtleneck, second long-sleeved shirt, sweatshirt on top of that, wool hat, winter gloves, extra fleece pullover. I had it. The golf pro was nice enough to inform us that the wind-chill factor was in the low 30s as we prepared to tee off. That wind blew all day, but the sun briefly appeared through the clouds and we managed to complete our round. Despite recent appearances to the contrary, however, it's not winter yet, folks.