Back on the road again...Talk about catching a break. In the weather. Sort of. Took a Tornado to do it. Took a tornado and a super cell to lower the temperatures by 20 degrees.
End result, nature's air conditioner went turbo nuts; mayhem in the Bronx; hundreds of torn up trees in the metro area; a few million gallons of rain deposited in its wake, and a brief window of perfect 75 degree riding weather ... for now.
Sky looks a little wild, and the road is strewn with debris and wet sandy grit. Hopefully there are no more super cells left in this front's arsenal of tricks.
Apologies to my best bike,
VACATION WHEELS UP
I suppose vacations come in all shapes and sizes, and this one was a catch as catch can, jamboree of history, touring, surfing, windsurfing and ... at long last, road biking.
Post-tornado sky at Sands Point, buzzing by the water at 15 mph after the Tornado passed. Across the water is the Bronx, where the twister touched down. This side we just got 50-70 mph winds that tore up trees at will. For the most part however, the damage was limited this side of the sound.So why has the riding been so sporadic?
Excuse No. 1: I'm a late night type, and have mostly utterly failed to get up anywhere early enough to ride before work, in the relative cool of the morning.
OK, Once or twice here and there, and sure, it's beautiful, it's cooler, but it's torturous on the diurnal rhythms of the night owl. I much prefer the afternoon.
Road, rough and ready for rolling your own ride.Excuse No. 2: A generous assortment of leg, knee, neck and arm injuries, conditions and ailments have kept me off tdly after the he bike for way too long. When one subsides, another kicks in. it's been that way for longer now than I care to remember.
Excuse No. 3: I've pretty much got a sport to suit the weather at any given time, so as long as the body is willing, I'll go with the one that makes the most sense, or which satisfies the exercise/adrenaline/endorphin craving du jour — or one that caters to the last body systems functioning at the time.
Cycling had been bottom of the list, while the neck and the knee were acting up. The heat wave of June and July put the kybosh on it. Then there was the inflammation in the prostate along with a need for an antibiotic, that totally sealed the deal.
Golf hit the skids next with the arm/neck numbness and pain flaring up badly after "The Tournament."
But somehow, I recovered just in time for vacation.
That and a heavy dose of willpower to "break the duck." [That's an English cricketing term for "getting off the schnide," or finally scoring a run.] .. and some external inspiration.
DC RIDERS
Back from DC/MD/VA, and envious of the riders I saw "wheeling it up" while I was there.
OK I wasn't that envious — it was mostly somewhere between 93F and 99F (33-38C) the whole week.
One totally kitted-out, bandana'd beast on a Specialized Tarmac or some such road eating machine, did the Alexandria-Mount Vernon ride in 97 degrees, and just killed it. The guy seemed to be easily mashing 25-30mph like some Tour Pro. Made it look effortless, and of that, I was truly jealous...and beginning to think I could handle it, if the temps dropped to a more reasonable pair of digits.
So, the first morning back, I saw the temp widget speak of a balmy 85 (29C) and, sure enough, it felt like a cool spell in comparison.
well-watered Sands Point lawns the tropical downpour wayOUT OF SIGHT
I leapt into my favorite RBR Voler "Lounge" bibs, aired up the tyres/tires, and tried to put all thoughts of doctors, MRI's, ultrasounds, urinalysis, aches, pains, numbnesses, bulging discs, neuropathies and other assorted ailments out of my mind and hit the road for the first ride in a month and a half. (See Sands Point Looking North West - Ride's Reward 7/21/10)
Wheel blurRelief and release, what a tremendous weight off the shoulders to finally ride smooth, and enjoy the whirr of wheels on the road without a hitch, or too many apparent physical ills attached.
HOLDING PATTERN
Then the heat returned, and more heat, and more endless heat and humidity. The kaput — and very expensive to repair/replace — thru-wall air conditioning unit rendered downstairs a no-go zone. The fan blew more hot humid air in. Confined to quarters on vacation.
No way!!
SURF ACCOMPLICE TO THE RESCUE
Multi-sports have their blessings and curses. On the positive side sometimes biking, sometimes the fine art of dog-walking are the only options. Sometimes there is only one option; if it's windy — windsurf. Sometimes many choices if it happens to be in that "in between zone," or just right for a few different activities. When the surf is good you'll put up with a little too much offshore wind, especially if you haven't surfed in a while. When the temperatures are cooler, but windless, golf and cycling compete.
But in the 95+F temps, golf and biking were off the menu—again.
SURFIN' RM2
Fortunately, though, Robby expressed the desire to get wet, cool off, hit the beach, and I had an instant surf accomplice for the next two days.
Modify that slightly — surf and windsurf accomplice. He got multi-sported, too.
The day after our trip to RM2, take liberties in the rather gnarlsome shorebreak, showing him how to belly ride the 9'6" Ricky Carroll (fresh coat of duct tape on the dings).
The ocean was brisk at first but as we struck for outside the lineup the bloodflow warmed up the body, to the point where the ocean was the perfect cooling elixir. Ahhhh. Back on the North Shore it's a humid, rainy soup.
The next day, Sunday, the wind picked up and it was time to teach the ritual of windsurfing uphauling and falling off.
The bay, in contrast was a warmer bath, but still just cooling enough.
ALL BEAT UP-NOW WHAT?
So with the first cycling, surf, and windsurfing sessions in a few weeks coming all in quick succession, there was not much left in the energy and pain-resilience tank.
Neither the stomach nor the blood pressure tolerate non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAIDs) very well, so it was cold turkey with the pain, unless absolutely necessary.
P.W. Fire Dept swings into action post-storm
Then along came that tornado-storm that inspired this whole multi-sport rambling. The crisp cooling air that came in its wake, had but one message. "Grab bike::ride!" The body presented a suddenly window of "willing and able." Take it.
MORNING AFTER
OK, so a wiser prostitis (if that's what it is) patient might wait until the next day to pronounce a ride a success. Let's just say that while the leg and knee pains were bearable, some of the effects on the recently more tender interior parts were a little more uncomfortable. Not the average post-ride butt pain of the novice, this one's a little deeper. Gnnnnngh. Ask Lenny, he knows.
It seemed with the evening, things were improving and that surfing was once again on the radar. But butt has a mind of its own...
