Windy Ride Home

It is funny that since I try to keep this on topic about biking, our impending move to Norway is merely part of the back story- the subplot. Reality, of course, is quite the opposite. The move infiltrates nooks and crannies of every aspect of our mundane daily realities. Yesterday, for example, since I was training my replacement, I was unable to slip away from work early. I left at 4:01, per my Polar HRM.

It was extremely windy. I normally cannot track stand on a geared bike, but yesterday was a day where I could simply lean into the wind and it would hold me up. I normally don't mind the wind, but I had class at 6:15. I needed to ride home, quickly shower, change clothes, eat, and ride to class. It simply wouldn't work to drive- both out of principle and because I really couldn't arrive at class any faster in a car this time of day. My rides home from work have been running about 1:20 to 1:30- on days when the wind wasn't so strong.

I decided to ride up Grand and take Summit to the river. This usually is faster, and I thought the more urban route would be less windy. I flew home, calculating my ETA at every stop light. A few blocks from home, a very concerned motorist pointed out that "stop signs are for bikes, too." Backing up, I should mention that at every light, at least one car ran the red trying to sneak through. It happens all the time. I didn't see a single car come to a complete stop. I was riding west on 54th street, signaling to change lanes so I could make a left turn at the stop sign. This woman honked at me, presumably to let me know she was there. Of course I already knew, but I let her squeeze by me. She didn't have the decency to move one inch out of her way while passing me. I cut in behind her. She stopped half-way into the intersection from her efforts to squeeze ahead of me, leaving me the opportunity to stop at the sign, then turn left at a time when there was no traffic in any other direction. I should mention she completely rolled through the intersection herself. As she drove off she offered her riding suggestions. I cannot imagine the joy this woman must bring to the lives of others. Normally I find comfort in such thoughts, that an equitable sense of karma keeps things in check, but this woman was so skewed toward unpleasantness that I almost felt sorry for her. I still don't understand what her problem was. I didn't run the stop sign any more than she did, and I did not impeded anyone else's more important progress in their drive home from work. I offered to discuss the matter with her further, in the most annoyingly pedantic voice I could muster, but she had more important things to attend to.

When I finally arrived home at 5:17, I noticed that it took about 1:16 for the ride, which isn't extraordinary. However, my average heart rate was 140 and it burned about 935 calories. That is the wind. Normally my average heart rate is around 120 for a more relaxing ride home- and maybe a 700 calorie ride- not that I count such things, but with the Polar, data is data. I quickly showered, ate, and headed off to class. I tried out my new Specialized mountain bike shoes that look like normal shoes. I arrived at class and noticed Wayne’s bike wasn’t there. Wayne eventually arrived late. After class we rode to the Black Forest. It never ceases to amaze me that we often arrive before some of the classmates who drive. The Black Forest was very busy for some inexplicable reason, but we eventually received our beer.

After class I rode home. I encountered a crazy lone biker riding the Greenway with no lights. It was very cold and still windy. I felt a pang of depression that winter was arriving soon. I was also unsettled by how nobody else was biking tonight- it made my own choice seem even more deviant. The desolation made me feel like I was living on the edge of the universe, even though I was in a city, surrounded by people. It was very quiet and there were almost no other vehicles. It really wasn’t that cold. And frankly, regarding the temperature, there is something nice about biking and arriving somewhere when I’m not all sweaty. Last week, as I recall, it was in the 90s, and I was soaked by the time I rode to class. Tonight was more comfortable. But still, there will be fewer and fewer bikes on the road, until only the most hardcore winter riders remain.