Dedicated to the Wind

It occurred to me, as I began to contemplate our pace, that I could run faster than we were biking. Danny had hoped to bike 100 KM the first day. This seemed reasonable since he biked 80 miles each day (150 k) in his trip across the US. Yet we were hitting about 50 Km/day, with an average pace of 10 Km/hr. Only a couple months before, I ran 21 Km in 1:53—less than 2 hours. Talk about devastating. The wind was literally breathtaking. It would come upon us with such force that your ability to breath—to do anything besides push forward—was immediately stopped. At times I would be hardly moving forward.

Hills could take half an hour of constant pushing in the lowest gears. Of course the hills themselves weren’t bad—long but not too steep. But the wind made them last forever. Generally too I would look forward to that sense of accomplishment at the top, only to be hit with wind with such force that I would actually have to downshift if I was able in order to go downhill. The hills would actually block some of the wind. There is nothing more disappointing than struggling to go downhill.

(Photo from one of the wind shelters along the way where we would stop to rest and eat)

I wish I could say this was an exaggeration, but I think it is actually an underestimation. Its hard to describe how challenging that biking was. It was physically exhausting, but the mental challenge was the hardest part. I would constantly have to pick my bike up after being blown off it or blown too far into the road so that I overcorrected to get out of the road or just stopping because I was bored. We would bike long straight-aways for hours—which normally would be bliss on a bike, but instead was an infinite stretch with no gratifying conclusion. Trees were permanently bent from the wind, and bikers passing us from the opposite direction would shyly break the news that we were headed the wrong way. We found excitement in our glimpses of the very distant mountains, that very slowly—day by day—grew larger, more visible—from a slight curvature on the horizon, to distant peaks, to visible mountains in the background. Appreciation became the word of the day on the third or fourth day as we found we really learned to appreciate everything we could!

(Photo more of a pretty tree than a tree bent from the wind, but you get the gist) 

Danny put on his thinking cap and suggested that we start biking earlier in the morning. The wind comes from the sun heating up the air, causing it to move. It was well worth it to me to try going earlier. And he was right! The next morning we left early—maybe 8, and it was brilliant. Still windy (and probably fairly miserable by other standards) but SOOO much better.

As it began to rain, we passed an enormous rainbow like God was confirming that this was the way to do it.

Strangely we also passed a field claiming that it had land mines. I don’t know if that was true or a threat to trespassers, but very odd. We took a break around 11. Unfortunately it signaled the end to our break in the wind. It was back. If that was the case, I was ready to get up at 4 am to avoid that wind.

Photo of Monuments to the Wind

These sheep have dugouts to protect themselves from the wind!