Weather I like it or not

It's funny the things that I really never thought twice about before I started riding. These include but are not limited to the following: wind, rain, sleet, snow, light (lack thereof), road conditions, and idiot drivers (previous post).

The wind Saturday was atrocious. I swear some wind gusts topped 35 mph. On top of that, every turn Brian and I took the wind was directly in our face. What's up with that?! I looked down at my computer at one point on the flats and I think I was managing a whopping 13.5 mph! I'll bet we had the wind at our backs for a total of 15 minutes of the 2+ hour ride. We were coming over the top of this one riser and we immediately dropped over 5mph of speed- kinda like when you land on a runway and the pilot hits the retro thrusters. Saturday's ride was eerily reminiscent of a ride he and I did last winter where it was in the 20s with comparable winds. The route over Mt. Riga Rd was unrideable so we ended up riding around the mountain thus equating to a nearly 4.5 sufferfest. I needed over a week to recover from that one. Suffice to say it was the hardest ride I've ever done. Also suffice to say, Brian was scarred from said sufferfest and refuses to ride with me in anything less than 30. I can't say I blame him. He did come out Saturday; I'm sure my "C'mon, the sun is really warm" helped my cause.

So why ride outside in the Winter? I guess theres a bunch of answers to that question. While I realize that there is inherent training benefit to riding on the trainer, I can't stand it. I believe that the trainer in a way gives a false sense of fitness: There's no substitute for the feeling of pedaling your ass up a climb. I don't want to ever lose that "oh, this is weird, haven't been on a bike in a while" feeling. I think alot of it for me is the whole adventure thing. When I go outside in whatever Mother Nature throws at me, I often think to myself whether I'm going to make it back alive. A little extreme, I know, but sometimes it's almost true (previous post). I guess I feel like a warrior braving the elements, though the "fixies" should probably receive that title. I'll settle for warrior-in-training.

Sunday was 20+ degrees warmer and I had the "luxury" of hooking up with the Rocket. When you're used to riding in 15-20 degrees and all of the sudden it's over 40, it kinda throws a wrench in the whole what to wear process. Rides are never easy with the Rocket so if I dressed on the light side, warming up wouldn't be too difficult. We "kept it mellow" for most of the ride so the pace was actually quite comfortable. Everything was fine until the hill addict in me had this bright idea of exploring this road we'd never been on. Here's the profile of the ride:



You can see at about the 24 mile mark where shit inevitably hit the fan. It was really a shame because Angevine Road started out tame enough- a nice, mellow serpentine road laced with intermittent rollers and beautiful views of the surrounding farmland. Unfortunately, I didn't take in alot of my immediate environs as I kept my eyes straight ahead and when Rocket says, "Oh look at the guardrails going up the side of the mountain," I knew we were in for a boatload of pain. As we rounded the corner he continued, "Do you have your camera? 'Cause this one could be a walker." I didn't have my camera so I wouldn't be able to catch the Rocket falter if he decided to bail but he has too much pride to give up anway and was putting everything he had into turning over that 42x17. When he thought of paperboying it, and I did glimpse him having a notion, he continued on his path as if he knew I was watching him. I was fighting my own battle. I started into the climb in my 42x19 (to stay close to his 17 and feel like a man) and about 10 pedal strokes the woman in me rationalized that there was no way in hell I was going to make it. Hey, I'm new to all this gear-mashing business. I somehow shifted down to the 21 without snapping my chain and continued up the 17+% grade at ~5 mph. You really learn how to pull up on the pedal at times like this as you're doing anything humanly possible to turn the pedals over. Funny thing is that my HR was only about 170 during this crisis on wheels- the 10 minute tea party with Mr. Anaerobia, however, was not enjoyable. We crested the climb together when the grade lessened as I was able to turn the 21 over at a "reasonable" cadence- "reasonable" meaning 30 rpms. We looked at each other as we were recovering, shook our heads in disgust of the suffering we just put ourselves through, and continued on. The pace up the ensuing climbs was rather calm by Rocket standards. He would later admit, "I wasn't the same after that climb." Rocket, neither was I.