There was a bit of a breeze, but my naive mind said, "eh, no biggie," and I pulled the bike out, put on my helmet, and started off. I was heading west, toward the mountains, which is where all our wind comes from.
It was soon evident that the wind WAS a biggie, and I, not being all that aerodynamic in shape, was going to fight this all the way to my usual destination. But I kept telling myself to push through it. Places where I'd normally get out of third gear and up to at least fifth gear, I was still in third, and a few times I was even down in second. About three miles into the ride, as I was riding past the wood processing place and the quarry, the wind was kicking up dust and grit. At three and a half miles, where the trail opens up onto a long, flat run, the wind was so strong that it almost threw me off my bike.
That was the end of that.
I turned around and rode in 7th gear all the way back to the car, the wind making a great riding companion at that point.
The worst part was how disappointed I felt. I'm a strong girl, I know I am. I should have been able to ride that day, despite the wind, right? Excuses are for wimps, and I'm not a wimp. No one who knows me would call me a wimp. But this wind. It took everything out of me, and I had to stop. It was only later I realized the wind was 20 mph with gusts to 30. No wonder I couldn't ride against it.
The acuteness of the disappointment still sits with me, though. Even after the windburn on my cheeks is gone, and days have passed, I still feel so disappointed in myself for not making it. And it doesn't help that I can't see riding in the foreseeable future due to weather. This morning it is 6 degrees, and the next range of forecast shows more of the same. It is going to be a long, cold winter for me.
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