Wind is an asshole. I have no patience left for it. It has all of it been used up, gone, finished. It is the only force that I’m aware of (with the possible exception of gravity) that is more stubborn and less willing to listen to reason than I myself am. It blows me around on my bike, it embezzles speed from my Magnificent Stroke. No matter how emphatically I lose my temper with it, no matter the unprintable curses and insults I hurl in its direction, it just keeps on blowing like a big stupid blowing thing.
The weather systems that move in and out of the Puget Sound Convergence Zone are accompanied by a gale and, and as every Cyclist knows, gales blow exclusively against the direction of travel. With the changing seasons come the frequent storm systems and the unreliability of the meteorologists is amplified by the complexity of the weather patterns. Taking Bike Number One is a gamble during any of these times, but sometimes living dangerously feels better than it is sensible. Every now and then, taking #1 when you really shouldn’t can offer a bit of much-needed redemption.
Fall winds steel us for the arrival of colder, darker days. Winter around here comes with less wind, but with annoyances of its own. Our friends in more harsh climates than mine will agree: we have had a dark Winter here in the Northern Hemisphere. Seattle is a mild place to live, but even here the damp, cold, short days have taken their toll. The sun is down when I arrive at work, and it is down when I leave for home. With vitamin D in short supply, our moods sour, the chickens stop laying their eggs (there is no creature more entitled than a clucking chicken who refuses to lay an egg), and alcohol, food, and sloth start looking like viable plans of remediation.
But as Winter makes its slow exit, the winds begin to blow once again and Spring starts to dot hints that she is about to make her entrance. The redbud trees are in blossom, and the Earth is letting loose the green stalks of tulips and crocuses. The work we did over the winter was supposed to make us feel strong and fast; instead, trees bow to our arrival as the wind pushes against our face and robs us of the free flight that a Cyclist in form works so hard to achieve.
Nevertheless, this weekend I rode with bare legs, the strong headwind filling my senses with the fresh smell of damp, life-giving earth and budding blossoms. Rebirth is infectious and like the trees and plants around me, so too have I been reborn.
Wind might well be an asshole, but when it signals warmer, brighter days it somehow seems more tolerable. Vive la Vie Velominatus.
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For some, Spring is ushered in by blossoms and beauty. In my world, it is ushered in by rapid thaws of the inches thick ice on my street. Nothing like crossing 3 inch deep rivulets that create square shaped speed dips on your street to indicate that spring is here. Just a few more days of melt and the roads will be safe to traverse (ignoring of course all the pea gravel/sand placed on them by the winter road crews).
@wiscot
I was desperate to get out for a ride yesterday. Was looking forward to it all day. However, my ongoing kitchen renovation had other plans. I was very upset about it at the time, but maybe it was the universe's way of letting me know that I am still a fat ass and too out of shape to be riding in that kind of wind.
Today on the other hand is fuckin gorgeous and i go straight from work to a five hour class. Between work and school, I won't get to ride until at least Thursday, but I'm hopeful that it begins the commuting seasons (finally!).
Timely indeed. The wind was a cruel dominatrix yesterday. I remember riding into the wind along miles of beach and high plateau and I think of how right I wish Jamie actually was. Sadly though, the terrain that should shelter us from the wind usually only serves to make it blow in every direction at once. This does have the happy effect of turning an 80k ride into almost a real workout.
@Jamie He's from MN.
Spring is indeed in the air. Today is the first day above 40 degrees here in central Wisconsin(been here 2 months now). I took the opportunity to go explore a park that has about 12 miles of trail I plan on riding. The roads there are basically covered in sheets of ice, no telling what the trail looks like. But the end of winter and beginning of my riding season are just around the corner.
We had a beautiful weekend here in the south of England. I rode with the guns on show for the first time this year and it was fantastic. The only problem is that they look much like two sticks of white chalk. Tan lines need work!
Rebirth indeed - physio to be booked up to sort out fucked hip, sportive to be booked up as a goal. Nothing like the signs of spring, and the start of the racing season proper, to get you fired up...
@ChrissyOne
How I feel about it. Jamie, we made the same mistake you did this weekend. Saturday was so gross.
Did you know that "Quilcene" is Salish for "place where old, filthy furniture is left on the side of the road in the wind and the rain to test the emotional stability of Cyclists with Seasonal Affective Disorder"?
What sort of witchcraft is this article? A hard head wind kicked up today just as I started to ride -- a wind that was unlike any other wind. It was a good fight though and I abused the hell out of the heavy gust at my back finishing the last 11 km. Timed the one lighted intersection with no loss of wind -- I mean speed!
The winter has also transformed nice potholes into horrible potholes for the Spring group rides. May have to refer to these as "grave diggers" -- they appear to be dugout over night.
@Mike_P Likewise up in the North - first ride of the year in shorts and a single shortsleeved layer today. Happy days, although it still seemed ludicrously windy at points!