It All Happens So Quickly
About eight years ago, I was working as a delivery man for the local newspaper when my driver and I got into an accident. We were driving down a dirt road when we hit a patch of gravel, started swerving, went into a ditch, and rolled three times. It happened at 4 a.m., and the ambulance didn't get to us until 7. The driver broke his ankle and didn't have a phone, so he ended up walking on that broken ankle to a farmhouse about a quarter mile down the road. By the time the ambulance arrived, my core body temperature was 85 degrees, because it was May in North Dakota. They're not known for their comfy springs.
Any North Dakotan day not cold enough to summon White Walkers is considered "shorts weather."