Here Comes the Sun

When I was young, several times teachers used me as an example in social studies class.  "Students, there are many different kinds of people in the world.  Some are very light-skinned, like Diana, and some are dark, like Jimmy."  Jimmy was not really dark.  In south Snohomish County schools in the 1960s and 70s, "dark" was, like tan, but that's another story.

Yeah, I'm fair-skinned.  Pasty.  Lily white.

As a teenager, I tried to get tan during the summer.  Baby oil.  Laying on the Edmonds beach between two pieces of drift wood.  (If you did that, too, you know why.)  Sunscreen?  What?

I never really did get tan.  I'd burn, then be a little less pale.

Now, though, I've learned that even one blistering sunburn in your youth greatly increases your chance of getting melanoma, the really bad kind of skin cancer.  I had a blistering sunburn every year.  Sometimes more than one.  Also, both of my parents had non-melanoma skin cancers.

Shoot.

Which brings me to this summer's ride, my "longest summer."  I'm going to be out in the sun six days a week, many hours each day, for nine weeks.  Prime time to burn in the hot sun.  My goal?  To come back home in August as pale as I am now.

And here's how I'm going to do it:

I'll be wearing "sun coolers" on both my arms and legs.  On my head, besides wearing my helmet, I'll be wearing "Da Brim" to shield my ears, face, and neck from the sun.  

Here's a close-up of "Da Brim."

Not too cool-looking, I know, but that's okay.  The first picture was from the Pioneer Century ride yesterday, and with just a few adjustments, that kind of sun protection is going to serve me well this summer.

In exactly two weeks from today, I'll be wearing this get-up as I leave Everett on my Cycle America ride for the Alzheimer's Association.