Two days ago, in beautiful Aledo, Texas, I did my second bike rally of the year and my 474th overall. I've done all eight Aledo rallies (2003-2010, inclusive), and can confidently say that the weather has never been good. Am I whining? You bet I am. This rally is snakebitten. A year ago, as you may recall, I rode in frigid weather. It was so cold that I thought my feet were going to get frostbitten. (Pretty cool, getting "snakebitten" and "frostbitten" in the same paragraph, eh?) I decided early on to ride the 22-mile course, but got off course and ended up with 33.7 miles.
Yesterday, the weather was bad for a different reason: rain. All week, the forecast was for sunny or partly sunny skies, but by Friday, things had taken a turn for the worse. There were thunderstorms and "heavy rain" in the forecast. I was surprised that two of my wimpy friends, Phil and Randy, showed up. I was not at all surprised that a third wimpy friend, Joe, did not show up. Joe is the wimp's wimp, the mother of all wimps, that than which no wimpier can be conceived.
My plan was to do the 60-mile course, but I abandoned it when my expensive "rain" jacket turned out not to be a rain jacket. It's a windbreaker. The nonstop rain soaked through the jacket in short order and chilled me to the bone. I told Phil and Randy that I was doing a shorter course. At first, I thought I'd do 22 miles, but shortly before the turnoff, the rain let up. We decided to do the 34-mile course, which had been extended to 39 by road construction.
I have no regrets about not doing the 60-mile course. It was pouring rain when we finished, 2:33:37 (riding time) after departing. All I wanted to do is get in my car, turn the heater on, and drive home to take a hot shower. There were goosebumps on my legs. My glasses were covered in droplets, which made visibility poor. My shirt and shorts were soaked and my cycling shoes were heavy with water.
Did I mention that it was windy? The average wind speed for the day was 9.4 miles per hour, with gusts to 18. The course was hilly and there were potholes on many stretches of road. It was actually quite dangerous to be on the road. At one point, we were going up and down a series of rolling hills, with potholes all over the road. The sky was dark; the road was wet; and we were fighting a headwind. Huge trucks bore down on us, forcing us to the edge of the decrepit pavement. About all we could do is laugh at the absurdity of it. They say that misery loves company. Indeed.
Statistically, I rode 38.6 miles at an average speed of 15.07 miles per hour. (Embarrassing!) My maximum speed was 32.0 miles per hour. Let's see: cold and wind a year ago, rain and wind this year. What will 2011 bring, other than more whining by my wimpy friends?
Keith Burgess-Jackson, J.D., Ph.D. 