Today 58 Miles - Avg Speed - Top Speed 21.2MPH
Total: 2,850.10 Miles
Wind is the cyclist’s purist nemesis. Heat, climbs, and snow are all enemies of the two-wheeled pedal pusher, but wind is, by far, the most brutal of foes. It is a remorseless element that treats your face like a Lonsdale punch bag and just when you think there is some mercy it hits you with an absurdly accurate flurry of punches to leave you feeling powerless and forlorn to the point of despair. This was how we felt today.
Normally when cycling there are twists and turns which at least mean some changes in direction, and therefore, the wind it is not always in your face, but in Kansas that is not the case, the roads are as straight as an ornament collecting Hetty Wainthrop Investigates fan and to top it, there are very few obstructions, natural or man-made, to defy it’s relentless energy. This was today. Straight into my face, it was.
We pedalled and pedalled exerting twice the energy, whilst receiving half the benefits and in addition, there is nothing of interest to distract from the howling gales. The landscape is barely deserving of the name. it is an expanse of nothing. The eye will follow a water tower for 10 miles whilst the brain cries out for stimulation, but all you can think of is the wind.
After 58 miles of this, Eric and I arrived, beaten and dejected, to the municipal pool in Larned, Kansas where Jeanne, Annie and Liz had been for 4 hours due to their early start. They also informed us the wind had been non-existent at dawn. Our lesson has been learned here. Tomorrow will be an early start.
To help soothe our battered faces and minds we indulged in a Mexican feast on the food boulevard. It was a decent meal, except for the enormous puddle on the ceramic dining room floor, which gave me the feeling that I was eating my meal in the toilet of a Working Mens Club in Bradford. All it needed was a warm pint of ale and the differences would’ve been imperceptible.
Anyway, back at another pavilion now. Wind-beaten, battered and hoping for a tailwind. Heck, even a crosswind is desirable at this stage.
Total: 2,850.10 Miles
Wind is the cyclist’s purist nemesis. Heat, climbs, and snow are all enemies of the two-wheeled pedal pusher, but wind is, by far, the most brutal of foes. It is a remorseless element that treats your face like a Lonsdale punch bag and just when you think there is some mercy it hits you with an absurdly accurate flurry of punches to leave you feeling powerless and forlorn to the point of despair. This was how we felt today.
Normally when cycling there are twists and turns which at least mean some changes in direction, and therefore, the wind it is not always in your face, but in Kansas that is not the case, the roads are as straight as an ornament collecting Hetty Wainthrop Investigates fan and to top it, there are very few obstructions, natural or man-made, to defy it’s relentless energy. This was today. Straight into my face, it was.
We pedalled and pedalled exerting twice the energy, whilst receiving half the benefits and in addition, there is nothing of interest to distract from the howling gales. The landscape is barely deserving of the name. it is an expanse of nothing. The eye will follow a water tower for 10 miles whilst the brain cries out for stimulation, but all you can think of is the wind.
After 58 miles of this, Eric and I arrived, beaten and dejected, to the municipal pool in Larned, Kansas where Jeanne, Annie and Liz had been for 4 hours due to their early start. They also informed us the wind had been non-existent at dawn. Our lesson has been learned here. Tomorrow will be an early start.
To help soothe our battered faces and minds we indulged in a Mexican feast on the food boulevard. It was a decent meal, except for the enormous puddle on the ceramic dining room floor, which gave me the feeling that I was eating my meal in the toilet of a Working Mens Club in Bradford. All it needed was a warm pint of ale and the differences would’ve been imperceptible.
Anyway, back at another pavilion now. Wind-beaten, battered and hoping for a tailwind. Heck, even a crosswind is desirable at this stage.
Even the street names are boring.
Sexy law-enforcement.
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