Long ago, when I was young and foolish, I played 18 holes with a group of friends from high school. Temperature peaked at 114 °F about the time we finished. Blazing sunshine the whole way. Humidity in the single digits, though. The course had a spigot with potable water at each tee, and each of us had a quart-sized container. As I recall, everyone was drinking a quart of water every two holes on the back nine.
Walking into the clubhouse when we finished was a bit of a shock, since the thermostat was set for 72. The grill had a special french fry thing, a big bowl that must have had a couple of pounds of fries in it. We split one of those, with plenty of extra salt.
In that weather, and even with that much water, you don’t noticeably sweat because it evaporates so fast. Your skin just gets stickier and stickier from the residue. When you get home, if you have a dog it will spend hours licking you for the salt.
Me, last Sunday. The last 3 holes were a disaster.
Long ago, when I was young and foolish, I played 18 holes with a group of friends from high school. Temperature peaked at 114 °F about the time we finished. Blazing sunshine the whole way. Humidity in the single digits, though. The course had a spigot with potable water at each tee, and each of us had a quart-sized container. As I recall, everyone was drinking a quart of water every two holes on the back nine.
Walking into the clubhouse when we finished was a bit of a shock, since the thermostat was set for 72. The grill had a special french fry thing, a big bowl that must have had a couple of pounds of fries in it. We split one of those, with plenty of extra salt.
In that weather, and even with that much water, you don’t noticeably sweat because it evaporates so fast. Your skin just gets stickier and stickier from the residue. When you get home, if you have a dog it will spend hours licking you for the salt.