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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@Mike_P
Ha Ha - 'twas gorgeous out. Made the mistake of wearing a base layer and didn't need it. Penalty for being a git is that I forgot about a conf call till part way round and had to cut short. Then got back and most people did not join the call so it got canned 2 mins after I called in. Rats.
@Teocalli
Sometimes it almost seems like the people you work for have no appreciation for the fact that you'd rather not be doing your job. Rats indeed.
Uh oh, we have some "fuck the Rules" chatter in the comments section of the Rouge Roubaix photo set. Nothing like taking advantage of a good photo op, then talking about how much you hate the Rules.
@Ron
No, no, we have some (1) Mockery of Tri-hards and what their rules may entail, (2) observations that we cyclists are programmed differently than other athletes and will do things that others will not (ride 112 km with a smashed face and chest) and (3) in some situations it is not clear if dumbassness is involved (oh wait, in the aforementioned pictures it was not).
No mention of hating the rules, more a celebration of those who follow them, concussions or not.
@Ron Just an All American John Watson.
@frank
I'll see your sheepfucker and raise you the weather.
Turns out I had a sensational powder day yesterday at the Hole. Last run I ran across some Texans camped under a cornice drinking some beers. They invited me to join them and what a grand time we had, sitting on a black diamond bowl face, drinking PBR.
If you went to Whistler maybe you aren't as thick as a typical Dutchie after all. It's a cracking spot. I've done six trips there and jagged wonderful conditions every time. Of course, I have skied some seriously fucked visibility there, but that's all part of the shenanigans. JH is whole lot of fun though too. Very few cut runs, bugger all grooming, just lots of au naturel off-piste fun and games. It's got a bleeding stupid lift system though, with an hour wait to get up the tram, which is the only way to the peak. Not a patch on Whistler/BC there.
@ped
There's a guy in this photo???Aye Yeah Yeah!!!
@frank The Milano Sanremo 2014 with the very old route is a gift to Cavendish. He's better be ready!
Great article Frank. Did my biggest ride of the year so far last weekend, and with the wind in my face and the sun on my left it was torture on every climb in the wilds of Northumberland. I soon felt a pang of emvy as I saw club ride after club ride rolling with the wind on their backs in the opposite direction, but I had the last laugh as I turned towards home and finally flew with a tail wind from Heaven...
FINALLY got the first outdoor ride of the year in after work yesterday.
40km, the first half of which was straight into winds of 30-40kph. Made for very slow going, and made me realize just how fat and out of shape I'm in.
However, it was so fantastic that I decided to get the first commute of the year in this morning. 20km into that same fucking wind. Weather report says I should have a tailwind on the way home.
The important thing is that I'm back on the road, and that's ALL that matters!