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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@CerveloVan 2 days in a row outdoors! Today however, the wind Frank encountered came to Vancouver.
Riding back into Vancouver over Lions Gate bridge was a bit white-knuckle, but a glorious ride nonetheless.
@frank - Great article, emotive and compelling. I am looking forward to my first bare legs ride this weekend and what does Sod's law tell me?
I can almost gurantee a following headwind on my circuit!
Nicely put Frank.
Living in Wellington, we know all too well about bastard winds. Tonight we were blessed with a fairly still evening, but the shortening days are foretelling the opposite to what most of you have to look forward to. As we (@Bianchi Denti, @rigid and @ Kah) sat outside the pub drinking what we deemed to be 'the last after-ride beers of the summer', a kind of resignation permeated the mood. And the fact that we all had lights mounted to our bikes for the ride home punctuated the realisation that Rule #9 will be soon our raison d'etre.
Enjoy your summer, northern bastards.
For me, the only redeeming feature of a headwind is when you are on the front, head down, smashing it, while the rest of the group sits on your wheel complaining about the wind
@frank
Timely stuff as usual.
After a relatively strong start to the year in January, things have also got a bit lazy for me. Work/travel etc haven't helped but can't really be used for excuses.
I've just signed up for a couple of events to force myself back into training, a 240km sportive the weekend after Festum Prophetae that I'm going to ride to and from to push the distance out to the 320km/imperial double mark and the Rapha Manchester to London ride in September. The route is unannounced but the blurb makes reference to 350km of hard riding over varied terrain starting with Snake Pass.
There's fuck ton, literally, of superfluous weight that I really don't want to take with me on these two rides so a serious rebirth is required. A booze embargo was put in place last weekend and some serious dietary restrictions are going to have to be adhered to to make the most of the training. The bike probably also needs a bit of a rebirth.
As you said, Shit Just Got Real.
Sunday ride was in summer kit, oh boy. 20* and sunny. It felt incredible to be without all the winter clothing and the Guns were strong on the road after all that cross riding. Beautiful blue sky, Sunday steel bike, new shades that were a gift-to-self to get me through a long winter, and two hours of awesome riding. It was one of those rides where I thought the entire time, "Oh yeah, this is why I ride bikes."
Yup, we've had a very unusual winter for these parts. Just last week an ice storm cut power to a whole lot of folks in the area. We've had multiple snow storms too, when normally we don't get any.
And the races, the races! Strade Bianche, Paris-Nice, Tirreno Adriatico, my my my.
@Nate
Scary stuff. I've been carrying on for awhile now as an academic thinking, oh maybe, my work/research will do some good for the world.
Last week I just found out a guy I grew up with is a professor at the local, big-time university business school. He was happy to introduce me around to some colleagues. One of them is another business school professor and he works on similar stuff except, instead of writing books no one will read, he's paid by corporations for his knowledge.
And now I suddenly realize I could keep on fighting the good fight or...get paid by private companies to help them make money, but essentially blow up the good I was working towards.
I've suddenly found myself in a very strange predicament.
@frank
Surely there's only one real solution to having downwind leg rather than having a headwind on the way out turn into a headwind on the way home; do what Freddie Maertins did, ride with the wind behind you until knackered then turn round and ride home. That's rule 5.
@frank
Yep, that's the look. Something of the plucked chicken about it.
@Chris Well that's skiing done for another year (just back home) so now to pick up some serious miles for me too. Plans for 2015 being laid to do Ride The Rockies.