There were places in the Washington region yesterday that were as hot as Sudan and as chilly as Belarus. Generally, the more money you make, the icier your workplace. Or the cheaper your merchandise, the steamier your store.
The National Weather Service posted official temperatures from local airports that peaked at 99 degrees. But in a random survey conducted by sweaty reporters armed with hardware store thermometers, the marble steps of the U.S. Capitol and the gravel pits of construction sites told a different story.
Outside the Capitol, where Congress hotly debated Department of Defense appropriations, the thermometer read 97 degrees.
In front of the White House, where the press corps bantered with President Bush about the newly renovated briefing room, the air was even more heated. The mercury climbed to 104 just outside the north gate.
The temperatures varied wildly indoors as well.
The clerks at an 8th Street hardware store in Southeast Washington sold hammers and nails in 97-degree heat. The cashiers at a Godiva chocolate store downtown rang up $65 boxes of signature truffles in a bracing 68 degrees.
The construction crews laying a gravel base in the Mixing Bowl, or Springfield interchange, were working in 104-degree heat. "It's hotter here than it is in El Salvador," said José Hernández, 62.
But inside the cool, marble interior of law firm Steptoe and Johnson on Connecticut Avenue, lawyers with six-figure salaries racked up billable hours in a brisk 68 degrees.
The temperatures for recreational activities also varied wildly.
At a Washington Sports Club downtown, people logged miles on treadmills and did reps on workout machines in a 70-degree room.
Kids playing soccer at the D.C. United Summer Academy at the South Germantown Recreational Park in Boyds ran on a wide-open field where the mercury hit 106 degrees.
The coaches turned on the sprinklers twice and packed coolers full of Gatorade. Not all appreciated the effort. Lee Schneider, 12, a Brunswick resident, poured a bottle over her head after walking off the field. "I wanted to leave, like, hours ago," she said.
Even being a spectator was tough yesterday.
$3 bottles of water
As temperatures on the court grounds reached 101 degrees, fans at the Legg Mason tennis tournament guzzled bottles of water, fanned themselves with their programs and draped wet towels over their necks at the William H.G. FitzGerald Tennis Center in the District.
"I'm trying to think of cold places, like Alaska," said tennis fan Harrison Gaskins, 16. "I refuse to pay $3 for water."
The nannies and parents of Capitol Hill abandoned the idea of watching their wards climb, slide and swing. In midafternoon, the jungle gyms were barren. The surface of a putty-colored plastic toddler slide in Marion Park reached one thermometer's capacity of 130 degrees.
Even in a Ben and Jerry's ice cream store several blocks away, where many tots and their caretakers sought refuge from the searing playgrounds, the air measured a sweaty 84 degrees. The most refreshing place was at the center of a scoop of mango lime sorbet -- an arctic 26 degrees.
But for those without access to gourmet ice cream, there were other ways to beat the heat.
In 100-degree air at Fairfax Circle, James Madden, who said he is homeless, waited to board a free, air-conditioned Metro bus headed his way.
"I suspect everyone on that one coming is riding it 'cause it's cool," he said. He tore wider holes in his pants to let the breeze in and said he had refused outdoor odd-job offers: "Too hot," he said.
Some vendors at the St. Mary's County farmers market in Charlotte Hall wished they weren't working.
Cousins John Padgett and Dan Miller sat at their fruit stand on the corner of the lot, where it was 100 degrees in the shade of their aluminum-roofed stand and 104 in the sun. Many vendors had packed up their wares by lunchtime, but the two cousins planned to stick it out until nightfall. The fruit and vegetables from their family's farm in Clinton don't stay fresh in this weather, said Padgett, 17, especially the thin-skinned tomatoes and grapes on their table.
Tourists sizzling at memorials and monuments retreated to cooler places. Debra Bryda, from Willoughby Hills, Ohio, quickly regretted leaving the National Air and Space Museum to take a snapshot outside the White House, where it was a wilting 104.
Nor was staying at home always a relief.
It reached 101 degrees outside Larchmont Village, a cluster of garden-style apartments in Alexandria where many residents make do without air conditioning. In the stairwell of Building 1200, it was a stifling 96 degrees. Fassil Tarko answered a knock at his door wearing only a green towel and a gold crucifix around his neck. The family kept cool inside the 88-degree apartment by taking frequent showers, Tarko said.
Some found relief in establishments such as the Lucky Bar in Dupont Circle, with drinkers packed in a 78-degree barroom.
Others sought more divine digs.
79 degrees in a monastery
The marble altars were cool to the touch, and the stained-glass windows tempered the bright light. Outside, it was loudly, screamingly hot, but inside the Franciscan Monastery in Northeast Washington, all was hushed, serene and quite comfortable. Seventy-nine degrees never felt so uplifting.
"Praise the Lord," said Michael Anthony White, a school bus driver from Wheaton who goes to the monastery at 1400 Quincy St. NE about once a month. "This is a refuge for me. And I knew it would be cool here."
In the catacombs of the monastery, several families with small children toured the underground replica of the hiding places of early Christians, pleased to be out of the sun.
They slowly entered the shadowed Martyr's Crypt, crossed the short passageway to the Chapel of Purgatory and admired the Nativity Grotto that depicts Jesus's birth. Candles flickered; a chant played faintly in the gift shop. What awaited them outside could be forgotten, for a moment.
Peter Martin knows that effect. A theology student who works as a tour guide at the monastery, Martin said he enjoys the peace of the place, the fact that "I'm constantly able to be around the saints."
And there is another benefit. "I ride my bike to work," he said, "and when I first get here, I hang out down here. I come down here to check the lights -- and dry off."
Staff writers Sue Anne Pressley Montes, Jamie Stockwell, Hamil R. Harris, Nick Miroff, Nancy Trejos, William Wan and Robert Samuels contributed to this report.