After Saturday’s ride, I was eager to get back out for some more. Sadly, Sunday brought 40+ MPH wind gusts (no thank you) and time on Monday did not cooperate. All I could muster was the weakest of attempts at time on the dreadmill. Tuesday, however, was looking much better.
Dressing for a ride like Tuesday’s is tricky; the start of the ride would be in the low 40s but by ride’s end, it would be in the 50s. I went with a jacket, wind front base layer, cap, tights, and wool socks. It was not my first preference for layering, but since I’ve been missing one of my leg warmers for two months now (it is most likely ruling the Kingdom of Lost Socks), I was forced to use winter tights. There would be much thigh sweat.
They are never happy to have lunch interrupted.
My original plan was to head south, but in the end I decided on leaving from the house and heading north; hitting some roads I hadn’t been on in a couple of months. I admit I was also looking at the wind direction and which loops and roads would save me from the most headwind. Turns out that is sort of a no-win situation.
My phone said that the wind was coming south/south-west around 11 MPH, that’s not too bad, and for the first part of the ride, I was treated to a little bit of a helping hand riding on North Crawford Road.
The Red-Winged Blackbirds are back! Spring is on the way!
As I headed further north into farmland and onto Crawford’s dirt the wind seemed to be helping even more. And by the time I started heading west and south, it was blowing relentlessly at WAY more than the predicted 11 miles per hour.
This, of course, is not all that unusual. Once you get out into the farmland there is little to shield the wind; buildings are scarce, the trees are few and currently bare, and at this time of the year, there’s not even any crops to lend a hand. Oddly enough, although I know it’s not unusual, I’m somehow always surprised and annoyed.
Random dead raccoon hanging out.
Each and every time this Yin-Yang wind scenario has me thinking of the quote from the play The Importance of Being Ernest by Oscar Wilde in which Jack (John Worthing) admits to Algernon that he is “Ernest in town and Jack in the country.” It seems that the Michigan wind is very much Jack in the country and a very serious Bunburyist.
Jack: This ghastly state of things is what you call Bunburying, I suppose?
Algernon: Yes, and a perfectly wonderful Bunbury it is. The most wonderful Bunbury I have ever had in my life.
Jack: Well, you’ve no right whatsoever to Bunbury here.
Algernon: That is absurd. One has a right to Bunbury anywhere one chooses. Every serious Bunburyist knows that.
Jack: Serious Bunburyist! Good heavens!
Despite all the Bunburying, it was great to be out riding on dry dirt roads in February and the ride back towards town was eased by a nice tailwind. Looking forward to more riding before the rain and wet snow moves in on Thursday. I’m also looking forward to re-reading The Importance of Being Ernest. Love that damn play!
Post-ride pasta and brussels sprouts. Every day I’m brusselin’. #Cat5Cooking
Later.