Breezy.

The wind battering my house woke me up at 3:00AM. I was not pleased. I listened to it for a while, then went back to sleep when I was fairly sure the walls weren't going to be blown over. When I finally got up, I went out to re-secure the plastic sheet covering all of the junk I removed from my garage the previous day. I don't really care about any of it, as it's all heading to the dump, but I figured the boxes will be easier to move if they're not soaked and falling apart.
 
I got ready for work, threw the bike on top of the car, and took the kids to school. When I dropped my youngest off, I considered taking the bike off of the roof. The wind was ripping through there, with nearby reports putting the gusts at about 45-50 MPH. Up on the hillside it was around 80MPH.
 
Because I'm all about cheating the wind, I had deep section carbon wheels on the bike, which are primarily used for spontaneous and unintentional direction changes. They're just great, big fucking sails, as I was reminded as I drifted off the back of Saturday's group ride. Every time I started going fast in the paceline, a gust would cause my front wheel to twitch. I tried all sorts of weighting and balance tricks, but they pretty much did what they wanted no matter how hard I tried to keep them under control. They'd twitch and I'd open up some space between me and the pack, so I wouldn't take anyone down if it caught me just right.
 
So, given my level of preparedness for the conditions I would face on my ride, I did the sane thing. I punted. I went home, took the bike off the rack, and rode the trainer. It took a while to get stuff sorted out again, because I had swapped the saddle over to the Compact and there were boxes of bike parts blocking my path. Eventually I hammered out a workout where the wind couldn't find me.
 
I didn't want to be a wuss. I certainly didn't want to ride the trainer again until the snow fell in the fall. I wanted to ride my fancy titanium bike and enjoy the wonderful variety of nature. However, all of that was trumped by my desire to not be blown across the inlet. The landing would probably hurt a bit, and I'm tired of hurting.
 
Maybe tomorrow.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Luke Simpson

Image
A couple years ago I participated in a stage race and had the honor to meet Saul Raisin, the former professional cyclist that suffered a debilitating traumatic brain injury during a race in Europe. As I listened to him speak and later read his book about his recovery, I (probably like most people) had two thoughts:                 “What an inspiring story.” …and more callously,                 “Wow, sucked to be him.” The second thought was just a result of thinking it would never happen to me. If you run the odds, it just doesn’t factor into the threat matrix as prominently as teenage girls with cell phones or that sketchy Cat 5 on the brand-new Madone. Then I got my bell rung. I’ve seen my share of stars and cartoon tweety birds over the years, but this was the first time I was knocked unconscious and woke up in an ER. Another driver’s moment of inattention resulted in a totaled car and weeks of disorientation, speech delays, and random face plants. It didn’t occu
Read more

Narrowed Focus

OK, here's the fun part.   You're clinging to the wheel in front of you. Doing everything to stay in contact, because you know in the deepest parts of your soul that if a gap opens, you will never close it, and you will be adrift. That few inches of space is your whole purpose in life.   People wait their whole lives to see the scenery on either side of you, but you're too busy focusing on meaningless points up the road. You're hoping that by acknowledging them that they will somehow help you climb this hill. They don't, because they're inanimate objects like signposts and rocks. Selfish bastards.   You match cadence with the guy in front of you, promising yourself that every time their right foot comes down, your right foot will come down. That you won't stand unless they stand. That you will be every bit as strong as they are, even if you aren't.   The steady ache in your thighs keeps building. You know all you have to do to make it stop is to
Read more

Perhaps Where I need to Be.

  The last time I was in Biloxi was in November of 2016. I was recovering from a broken collar bone, but otherwise was relatively fit, lean, and getting fitter and leaner. Because I had nothing else to do and energy to burn, I rode a lot. It was wasted effort that translated into burnout during the trainer season, but I really didn't care. I hadn't been riding at all. A handful of road rides before the season ended. A couple fat bike rides when the trails near my house were packed well. Mostly I've hiked, cross-country skied, and sat on my fat ass. Primarily the latter. I knew I was going to be spending the month of February in Biloxi. I swore I was going to get back on the trainer in preparation, but I never did. I came in cold. I packed all sorts of warmers and raingear and stuff that I have yet to use.I forgot all sorts of tools. My tires were excessively worn and my tubes weren't in great shape either. I ended up buying new ones after a horrible first ride led to 4
Read more