Throngs of revelers channeled their inner Sir Edmund Hillary to weather a bone-chilling New Year’s Eve in Times Square — the coldest since 1962.

Milwaukee tourist Sallie Anderson, 29, bragged that the expected 8-degree temps at the Crossroads of the World were a piece of cake, considering where she spent the holiday last year — the South Pole.

“This is no big deal,” she said, wearing the same Canada Goose-brand Expedition parka she donned for her Antarctic trek as she stood in Times Square with her mom.

The pair began waiting for the ball at 9:45 a.m.

“I’m actually overheating at the moment. I don’t have gloves on. I have warmers, but I don’t have them on,” Anderson said.

Her coat was originally designed for researchers living in Antarctica — and she needed it.

The National Weather Service predicted that the mercury would plummet to a mere 8 degrees — or minus 4 with the wind chill — by the time the ball dropped, making it the coldest New Year’s Eve since 1962, when the temperature was 4 degrees. The coldest ever was 7 below zero, in 1917.

But while the temps might have been too much to lure many New Yorkers out to the spectacle, the area was teeming with tourists.

Lea Webber, 18, noshed on gingerbread-flavored ice cream as the thermometer teetered on 13 degrees just before 6 p.m.

“We live in Canada, and it’s really cold in Montreal,” Webber explained.

“For six months out of the year, it’s usually 40 below zero there, so temperatures in the teens like today is not bad. This is better than normal for us.’’

Born-and-raised Minnesotan Matthew Frank opted to augment his jeans, long-sleeve shirt, sweatshirt, jacket, winter hat and gloves by fattening himself up on a dinner of 10 chicken legs and six biscuits last night — and a hearty helping of bacon this morning.

“You need some fat to stay warm, so why not some bacon?” said Frank, who got to Times Square at 9:30 a.m.

Even out-of-towners from more balmy climes didn’t seem to mind the bitter cold.

Colombia native Daniel Morales, 29, said he chose Times Square over his tradition of jumping into the pool at his family’s Bogota home at midnight.

“We were doing FaceTime with them 10 minutes ago. They were all by the pool. They are not jealous,” he said.

The greatest challenge for many was the fact that once they got in the police pens, they weren’t getting out until after the ball dropped — even if Mother Nature called.

Some revelers gave up their secret: diapers.

“So far, it’s dry, and I’m hoping to keep it that way,” Dallas teacher Heather Feist, 32, who began lining up at 9:30 a.m., said of her “arrangement.’’

Others resigned themselves to kick off 2018 wallowing in their own filth.

“I’ll definitely need to shower after peeing my pants all day,” said Ayame Yamakawa, 21, who traveled 22 hours from Okinawa, Japan, just for New Year’s Eve and had already wet herself once by 2:41 p.m. since lining up at 10 a.m.

Some, like NYU student Mizy Yamazaki, who underestimated the cold, cut their losses and left.

“We thought, ‘Oh, it’s only New York — we can do it.’ But no,” she said.

So how do actual New Yorkers brave the ball drop?

One police officer on duty put it best: “I would be in bed under the covers with a cup of hot tea, watching this on television.”

Additional reporting by Sarah Trefethen and Shari Logan