A good, brisk ride through downtown, past the municipal marina and all its sleepy sloops, is just what I need to keep my keel even and my mind clear. It's a good compliment to sailing as many of the same stimuli are experienced - the wind against your face, the incredible feeling of speed, the slight threat of danger. Wonderful. Of course, the weather that serves to make a fantastic sailing day seldom brings a lifting of hearts on a cycling day. I speak of the wind. A sailors best friend and a cyclist worst nightmare.A seemingly paltry ten knot wind is enough to try even the most mild tempered cyclist's patience. It sends the blood straight to my head and wrenches frighteningly acrid curses from my lips. Similar to sailing, it seems the wind is much too often right on the bow. Amazingly my partner and I can start our ride with a wind rushing directly into our faces only to find the exact same circumstance on our return. This shouldn't be possible. It shouldn't be legal. We set off heading south with a southerly wind right on our noses. The thought of a nice, gentle, wind-aided return on the north-bound leg is all that keeps us going. We ride hard into the wind knowing we'll have it our backs, pushing us home, when we turn around at the marina, downtown. But, this is not to be the case. We should know better. Upon turning around, after riding hard into a gale-forced wind we find it on our nose once more. And the curses fly. Aeolus must have it out for us. That, or she's so used to listening to our pleas for wind while sailing that she's just being obliging. Late, but obliging. Hopefully this lateness of action on her part won't have us sitting, windless and cursing, in the middle of a big ocean. Perhaps we should set sails on the bikes.
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