Friday, March 11

Wind Burnt and Ready to Blow Home

Well, I almost got blown to Kansas on my way in. We'll get to that in a minute.

The early half of my ride was full of Moto-brethren. All the cars that passed me on Ridge Road did so legally in the opposite lane. As I sat at 44th waiting to cross a school bus driver turning left onto the road I was on stopped and waved me across.

But once I crossed into Denver West, specifically the last leg to NREL the Moto-fascism ramped up with gusto. Idiot redneck in a jacked up, extended cab Ford pickup gunned his V8 and cut me off. The only irony would have been if he'd had a "coexist" bumper sticker. But I think it actually was actually Mean Calvin peeing on a cross. Or was it a Chevy logo?

NREL has some huge construction project going on so there are lots of rednecks in oversized pickups and SUVs gunning their engines in the neighborhood. Oddly, they fit in with the cubicle crowd in their luxury-esque sedans. They all race along Denver West Parkway (and Boulevard) well above the 35 mph speed limit, trying to get who-knows-where. I'm guessing if they don't get to the office ASAP the coffee might get cold or they might miss an important Charlie Sheen tweet. I'm hoping for live twitter updates in all new cars starting this year. Then maybe the cubicle monkeys would slow down.

The Moto-fascist stupidity only subsided, not ebbed completely away. But you don't want to hear about boring old traffic sins of random strangers do you?

To the wind...

Its possible the Ridge Road crowd and the bus driver on 44th could sense the impending beating I was going to get form the chinook winds later in my ride. From Arvada through Applewood the wind was just annoying. In Denver West it started to get some oomph behind it and once I got into Pleasant View it was downright brutal.

All along 10th Ave I was geared down, hunkered over the handlebars of the OBS and cranking to beat the band. As I climbed over the hill between Ulysses and Johnson the wind became gale force and I was in my lowest gear, crawling, head down, bike weaving. I crested the hill and as I descended a hill I would normally be clocking 20-30 mph with little effort I was in low gear, head down, cranking away and still almost getting blown to a full stop. I considered letting the wind just take me and blow me back to Arvada. Or Kansas beyond. Or Oz. I really didn't want to keep fighting it just to get to work.















As I approached my building there is a short stretch where I actually travel east for about a hundred yards. Its a slight uphill grade, but when I turned with the wind my bike took off like an electric scooter. I stopped pedaling and coasted most of the way with the wind.

I'm predicting a Ramming Speed Friday of epic proportions...as long as the winds remain out of the west...

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