Yesterday, I had what might have been the best ride of my life. I headed east, downriver (oh, no, I wasn’t in Pittsbgh) planning to get in a fast hour and a half before dinner. Great roads, smooth, clear wide shoulders with none of that rumble strip crap, beautiful scenery, light traffic and polite drivers. And I was FLYING. Wow. The roads were flat, barely any hills by SWPA standards, and no traffic signals anywhere. It was just amazing how much faster I was here than I am in Pittsburgh.
I was looking forward to turning around and heading back and seeing how much of that cross breeze would be a tailwind on the return leg.
I reached my endpoint, turned around and headed back. Into a 13mph headwind. Wuf. Yeah, I was late for dinner. That was the worst ride.
Actually, I’m pretty sure the wind didn’t change on me I was crazy to think that cruising along at those speeds without breathing hard had anything to do with me. But it sure felt good while it lasted.