Tucson, Arizona 105 degrees in the afternoon, mes amis. As the workday ended I began mentally to prepare for what lay ahead. My ride home would be perilous sure enough.
But Fortune smiled, and I took the cue—as soon as I was out the door of the San—a large dark storm cloud appeared, and with fury put some muscle on 105.
Temps dropped quickly and O, the wind did gust, Gentle Readers of This Blog. The clouds rolled like ocean waves above me. Suddenly I found myself in an invisible peloton of energy—the tailwind I could only dream of was happening at that very moment!
Riding up front on the Tailwind, heading North up Swan Ave.
I am right in that place were the cool air is slamming into that hot muggy air that likes to loiter on the scorching black pavement. Things get moving—and I am riding—no blasting past automobile traffic. It becomes effortless, and I find myself in perfect sync with the tail wind. I am charging 20 mph up Swan Ave— I am flying…
I can only tell you that for years—I have been treated to either a cold stiff headwind bearing down on me in Winter, or unforgiving heat grilling me well-done in Summer.
Today at this very moment, everything is perfect.
That tailwind only lasted three miles, but they were perfection. At the top of Swan and Skyline I was stopped at the light and waited to turn left. I could still feel the steady push of the wind flowing over my back and shoulders, continuing to stream up into the mountains.
Heading West on Ina Rd as the Storm rolls across to the North.
For a time heading back West on the fast rollers of Sunrise and Ina Rds, those gusts of wind were often crosswinds. I’m a big Clydesdale rider, so for crosswinds to send me leaning into them, you know they’re forceful.
We can have 100 days of 100 degrees—and each one with a story to tell.