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Dan Fravil Our new Vice President for Touring has gotten right to work with mini-rides. Monday night he called to say that Tuesday mornings weather report called or "mild" weather, maybe close to 50, "how about reviving the Tuesday morning ride?".Sounded good to me, so we made plans to meet early for coffee. The temperature was 48, although the wind seemed fairly fresh when we met, but by the time we were joined by Mike D it seemed to be falling. A quick check of clothing (layers, booties, gloves, tights, little black tight things from Swan that go over your head) and we were off towards Brooktendale; Phil, Mike and Dan. We were moving briskly up Rt79 when I heard Mike saying how neat it was to have the wind at our back strong enough to blot out all noise. Indeed it was eerily quiet as we rode, no wind whistling in my ears, no wind whipping my clothes. A little thinking revealed the future problem. We were riding 20-25mph, so the wind at our backs must be at least that for it to be so quiet. We would eventually have to turn around and into that wind. Oops. Well, I'll think about that later. Through Brooktendale (where we passed Nick V with a lively package attached to his back) and out White Church Road we rode. Nice pace and good talk. Then the "twilight zone". As we talked about hunters and the season we spy a car stopped in the middle of the road with its hood up and jumper cables hanging out; one car. It sure is tough to jump a car without another one. Anyhow, the guy standing next to it says "can you push my car?" (he wanted to try to jump start it). What a caricuture. This guy has a scraggly beard, wool overalls, a hunting license attached to his back and a cigarette burning right down to his knuckles; we three have yards of black, yellow and red lycra on, bikes that are each worth twice what his car is worth, shoes with cleats on the bottom that make us walk like ducks, and a means of transportation that works. Well, sure, we pushed. Hilarious is what it must have looked like, running down the road pushing this beat up car, especially since it didn't work. Our good deed done for the day, we were not rewarded. Turning on to Coddington Road the afformentioned wind was noticed; noticed big time. I'm sure that I was stopped dead in my tracks a few times by gusts. And the temperature, it was going down, fast. Due to age, the perquisites of office and various other excuses, I tried to stay tucked behind Mike and Phil. Mike wanting nothing of this deciced to go off the front, managing 12-13mph. Wow! It sure was blowing. Blowing sleet, frezzing rain and snow in our faces. We sure were having fun. Phil decided to go downhill and home. Mike and I went downhill too, and then uphill on Burns Road. Yuk. By then my fingers were non-functional and Mikes toes were non-feeling and this was getting stupid. A temperature of 32 when we got back but more stories to tell and 22 miles in the slowest time of the year. What did the guy who was hitting his head with a hammer say about why he does it? It feels so good when I stop. Thanks Phil. Dan |
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