I try not to write about weather too much, even though, as a cyclist, I am fairly obsessed with what is happening outside. I monitor a variety of meteorological services more than once a day to stay up to the minute, to glean every possible detail before I step out the door.
Is it a problem? I don’t know. I think I could quit if I really wanted to.
And in bringing up winter (again), I am only too aware that many of our regular readers are in Australia, not to mention the other cycling nations who cling steadfastly to the underside of the planet. So bear with me.
Yesterday, the local department of public works carted 15 bags of leaves away from my house. This event marks, in my mind, the true beginning of winter. With all the leaves down, there is nothing left but for the snow to fly. Of course, in true New England fashion we marked the passing of the leaves with a bracing round of icy rain showers that made my regular Friday morning ride into something of a survival event.
I find myself wondering when the winter is going to winter on us. I know my friends in Minnesota are no longer wondering. It’s already wintering there.
This week’s Group Ride asks a few weather-related questions. First, how heavy a winter is coming our way? And who do you believe when they tell you what it will be like? Second, how deep into it will you ride? What are your criteria for staying off the bike? If you ride straight through, what is your key to surviving the worst days? For our friends in the Southern Hemisphere, you will be coming into summer now. How did you do this past cold season?
August has been an interesting month here in my New England home. The weather, for the first time in a long time, was mainly cool and dry, so a lot of riding happened, and I enjoyed it an awful lot. Not being too hot/cold or wet allows you to do your best riding, as it turns out.
That said, this month also sees the end of my focus on the road. I have all but stopped heading out to pile up paved miles simply for the sake of doing so. As I mentioned last week, local trails are calling my name, and while I have been riding them on my road bike lately, the mountain and cross bikes are also calling my name now. With the mornings growing darker (and chillier) I can see that it’s time to switch it up, and find some new fun.
My mind has turned to warmer clothing, the eternal search for the right winter cycling glove and a frank assessment of my lighting options. I’m not quite ready to put any of those things into regular use, but I do hate to wake up on that morning I need them and not know what I’m doing.
My friends who race cyclocross haves started their strange, cross-related rituals, mostly leaping over sticks and cones in public parks, like so many two-wheeled LARPers. Soon enough, I’ll be straining to hear the announcer over the rumble of a generator, and wondering who in the hell fixes the grass after a cross race.
Meanwhile the pros are winding down their season. La Vuelta, Worlds and the Giro d’Lombardia sit at this end of the calendar, a few remaining shots at redemption for those who have not quite met their “objectives” yet. Though those big races remain, it’s hard not feel as though a corner has been turned. This guy knows what I mean.
And while the summer is mainly over where I live, my friends in the southern hemisphere are undergoing the opposite shift. They’re gaining the light and warmth we are losing.
So this week’s Group Ride is about that shift. Is this a month of change for you? If so, what does that change look like? Are you pulling on arm-warmers yet? Or stripping them off? Are you switching from one bike to another, or training for a new kind of riding/racing?
Image: Matt O’Keefe