An Ode to Wind

Spring is windy season in the Rocky Mountains. Strong, gusting, ever-shifting winds can present quite a challenge riding along the Front Range this time of year. Though they typically blow from the south. And this Memorial Day weekend they came in gusts up to 60 mph carrying smoke from wildfires in Arizona, New Mexico and Southern Colorado.

Yesterday's high winds blew smoke from fires in New Mexico

My normal riding routes take me south along the Front Range on Hwy 105 towards Palmer Lake, Colorado. Hwy 105 climbs steadily from around 6,000 ft to 7,300 ft. as you head south toward the Palmer Divide. I prefer to start my rides heading into the wind, or uphill, or both as is often the case riding south on 105.

The long, slow grind up to Palmer Lake into a stiff headwind offers plenty of time to let your mind wander and mine often turns to thoughts about how much I hate the wind! Actually, I have a love/hate relationship with wind.

When riding into the wind I feel like a weak, struggling, middle-aged man trying to stave off old age by dressing up in spandex and pretending to be Lance Armstrong. But when I reach the southernmost part of the ride, turn around, and start back downhill with a tailwind I am Lance Armstrong riding in the Tour de France cruising along at 30-40 mph without breaking a sweat.

While riding into the wind this morning I came up with an Ode to the Wind:

Wind, wind, miserable wind.
Like the breath of the devil you repel me.
I spit in your face and you blow it back in mine.
I despise you.

Wind, wind glorious wind.
Like wings of angels you lift me up.
I sing of your grace and your gentle push from behind.
I love you.

Wind, wind, fickle wind.
Like the mind of a woman you change without warning.
Once at my back now back in my face.
You torment me.

And there you have it. My Ode to the Wind.

May the wind be always at your back!

Ride on,

Daren