Yesterday afternoon I went out for an hour-or-so ride. My plan was about 18 miles, and I should finish in an hour or so. It started off alright, despite a bit of a head wind. I headed mostly east and south for the first 20 minutes, into a south wind. "No problem," I thought. "Pay for it now and enjoy the tailwind on the way home."
Yeah... what's that old joke? "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans," or something like that?
After heading south into the wind, I turned westward to climb up to the exposed bench on the west side of the Salt Lake Valley -- the better to enjoy the tailwind to blow me home. Yeah... So just as I turned northward, our anticipated cold front arrived. The temperature dropped, the wind shifted from south to north, and I had a headwind for the last 8 miles. There's a hill on this route I can usually fly down at around 30-35 mph. Yesterday, I was pedaling my little heart out to hit 18 mph at the bottom of the hill.
So... I will now be a stronger, faster rider for having faced this challenge and persevered (meaning I didn't die), right? Even so, I would have loved to have had someone to draft behind.
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