I wasn't dressed for it at all. I'd come to Portland for a visit and apartment-hunting, so all I had was street clothes. But it turned out OK - the only problem was the patches of slush, for which my tennis shoes were no match. (Michael T. had presciently brought clip-on cleats.) I managed by hugging the edge of the road where I could get some traction on a narrow band of about six inches of dirt, before it fell away into steep up-grade on one side and down-grade on the other.
Despite being about 6 or 7 years older than the two Michaels, I'm proud to say I kept up a good pace and even stayed in the lead by about 50 to 100 feet most of the way. When we got to the lake, we found it only half-frozen. We sat down at a park bench to relax - Michael T. had brought a collapsible chair and Michael W. a bottle of champagne - toasted the new year, and headed back.