It’s cool to live in San Benito County
There are certain temperature limits at which outdoor activity
becomes just plain silly. Under 40 degrees and over 100 are my
general limits of tolerance.
A seat atop the bleachers at Andy Hardin Field during a Baler
football game when the wind is howling in from the west in early
November can be an uncomfortable location, though the
tightly-packed stands and layers of clothing make it bearable.
It’s cool to live in San Benito County
There are certain temperature limits at which outdoor activity becomes just plain silly. Under 40 degrees and over 100 are my general limits of tolerance.
A seat atop the bleachers at Andy Hardin Field during a Baler football game when the wind is howling in from the west in early November can be an uncomfortable location, though the tightly-packed stands and layers of clothing make it bearable.
Sitting on a Whiffle ball bucket on a dirt baseball infield in Turlock – the garden spot of the central valley – while coaching a travel ball game in 100-degree weather in June? That’s just plain cuckoo. But that’s what I did last weekend.
Baseball is a warm-weather sport, with green grass, bright skies and the chance to leisurely watch a game in shorts and a T-shirt among its appeals. It’s even more appealing when all that happens under a canopy or in the shade of trees.
For a sun-sensitive guy like me, just being outside during the summer is an adventure. Specifically, it becomes a game of which part of the body will Adam miss while applying sunscreen?
Using convenient spray-on sunscreen, I hit my forearms first, one side and then the next. Then, I reach back and try to hit the back of my neck without getting too much on my T-shirt, which could result in ring-around-the-collar. I close my eyes and spray my ears – or try to – and hit the front of my neck as well. I need to be a contortionist to be effective, and that is not me.
I spray sunscreen into my hands and rub that on my nose and cheeks; then I spray my legs, front and back, now fully prepared for my time outside.
It seems like I’ve taken all the necessary precautions. I am wearing a hat, which keeps the sun off my scalp, and sunglasses cover my eyes. I drag an ice chest full of water for me and the team into the dugout and I stand in whatever shade I can find.
Over the course of the day, as the sun blazes, the dust flies and I sweat, I know I’m going to feel the effects later. Two, two-hour games later, when we head back to the hotel with the car’s digital thermometer registering 102, the sun continues to exact its toll.
I apparently missed an oval-shaped section of skin just below my knee on the inner half of my left leg, as evidenced by an unnatural pinkish glow shaped like a paramecium. That’s going to create an interesting tan line.
When my red shirt comes off, it looks like I’ve changed into a white shirt, with the lower half of my arms – from the elbows down – and my neck darker than the rest of my torso. By the time CCS football playoffs roll around, my summer color will fade and I will be fully in my winter white again. But for now, it’s farmer’s tan time.
If you ever get down about Hollister’s summer fog and cold and windy early afternoons, drive over the Pacheco Pass and spend a summer weekend in the valley. Air conditioning in the car and the hotel can moderate the effects and make the weather bearable, but there is nothing like heading back west, reaching Casa de Fruta and rolling down the car windows to feel the fresh, cool evening air that we take for granted in San Benito County.
It’s easy to forget how cool it is to live where we do.
Check out Adam’s blog at http://thebreenblog.blogspot.com . He teaches newspaper and yearbook classes at San Benito High School and is a reporter for The Pinnacle. He is former editor of the Free Lance.
