I began this Month wanting to ride metric centuries again. Short intense rides – even at my advanced age – are lovely &. I won’t stop making them, but longer contemplative rides are my favorites. Training for longer rides usually began for me in February so by April I’d be ready to endure them. Tornados & Pandemics ruin all plans.

Rounds either large or small at our Airport are fine training & there’s usually someone there to pursue or flee; I first learned to pull-pedal at the airport, how to push-pedal from the very rear of the saddle, how to Sprint-Interval, & how to accept wind-resistance as merely a slight uphill grade.

Traditionally I start with Stadium Laps & sprint up Davidson before some airport laps.

My first of many this year

Nearly every season I see Eastern Box Tortoises on & around our airport track, working their way either from the creek or to the creek or between creeks. I take them as signs from the cycling Muse that mine is not an unworthy effort. I’ve only though seen 2 dung-beetles tho – one 6 years ago (I had no clue what it was nor what it was doing) & the other just today. The unfortunate metaphor is they constantly mess with other’s shit; the unvarnished truth is they gather poop to feed their young. More than rather laudable considering what we have done to our economy.

Beyond the dung-beetle I noted 5 One-Speeders today & 2 actual Fixies. I thought I knew every non-traditional cyclist active here but I suppose our population growth will make for some surprises. With the winds between storms there was no simple pedaling for anyone out there but my thesis that 10-Speeders are slower into the wind than are one-speeders gets routinely demonstrated. Our chain-bight stays constant necessarily while those with dérailleurs modify their bight to maintain their cadence.

Rolling our own matter toward our own ends.

Took advantage of a blown weather forecast to join the heat & humidity (our first of 2020) & was not alone – a kind of inverse Vocat Aestus In Umbram.

Subjected to more Right-Of-Way incursions than usual but perhaps newbies to the small stadium-park aren’t used to the protected bike-lanes.

With the restructuring of my old Shelby route – due to erosion & tornado – I had to find a roughly 50 kilometer substitute regular enough to turn into a time-trial. Oddly enough the pandemic placed the general flow of traffic into lanes & parking-lots just far enough away to make this once awkward loop along a truck route quite regular indeed. There is only one stop sign on 5th which presents any variation in pedaling.

Two at least of my regular hills are closed for repair & tree removal so I was condemned to the pot-hole riddled & but poorly patched flat Davidson for my entry/exit. Motorists do not heed the 20 mph limit & are chary to cede any jot of roadway to cyclists avoiding pneumatic disaster. It’s not my favorite bit of Earth; now it’s unavoidable. The hill up & around the flat fiasco is my preferred entry; I spent my first 2 years fearing & avoiding it.

A good stiff wind today with few gusts. As usual many newbies out getting in some Me Time but rarely getting in the way. Cycling has a punishing learning-curve but, a harsh mistress, once educated you stay alert.

I managed to head for the exit at the proper mile to hit my 75K goal – or nearly enough.

It was on the last lap heading home where I saw the first snake of the Year, marking the official start of Spring. Nearly 3 feet long, iridescent black approaching blue. A fine beast, newly shed & hungry. Alas Saturday night will sport a low on 31°; adapt or die.

When I set up the distances of my rides I specifically avoided 50 miles in favor of 62 (100 kilometers); I’d not stop at 50 ever. Well, oops. Shooting now for 48 miles (75 kilometers) is a narrow window. I’ll figure it out.

Coming off the back-route home I had little brain-sugar left & took a dumb chance threading the unnecessary needle between 3 cars. Inexcusable.

“M’aidez” (Old French for Help Me they say that actually means); route went through Tornado Country again & the repairs are going slowly indeed. Still many roofing nails on the roads & many shells of houses covered by blue tarps. Some Government agency has stuck warning signs on several houses roughly saying Rebuild Soon Or Forfeit. Just all kinds of sad packed into a few blocks.

I broke off from the standard climbing route because I’m weary of the guessing-game of the Project Houses – currently being upgraded to Townhouses but the completion is years away. Danger is part of the deal especially riding Fixed but the wrong kind of danger is indulgent. Took part of the old ride over to the Back Loop of Shelby & the place is still lovely & politely trafficked; alas I surprised a newly riding couple into nearly crashing in tandem when I passed them.

Legs feel fine; it will be a good season.

I had not realized the FITIV app showed effort at places before. Useful.

I suppose it was 2 years ago that I vowed to stop complaining about the wind & treat it like a snarky friend; Nashville did not used to be Oklahoma but it has become so over time. Along Davidson, a wind from the North or (rarely the South) adds no danger to a ride since the bike lanes are protected by plastic poles & a car-parking buffer, but a strong cross-wind there can be deadly. Motorists entering or exiting the industrial businesses rarely have spare RAM to look for cyclists and a gust can blow your bike right into their path.

I did the regular loop near the Covid-19 testing center. Traffic was light & polite.

Many joggers walkers rookie-cyclists on the greenway today. Plus a few picnics & hunters of water-creatures in the streams. During regular times I wd call the ride Dangerous; newbies don’t have any situational knowledge of how this all works. But no mishaps despite a few close calls.

Hit the hills again – a Double save for Eastland. There can be no true Double using these roads but the Triple is fun & difficult.

I wasn’t expecting so much wind but it met me at the Airport anyway. We had quite the crowd there today as Quarantine dies its natural death; mostly folks on closeted bikes yanked out just to get some blood flowing in early Spring. A few startlingly adept cyclists I’d never seen before – some on Trial bikes, gleeful to thwart the gusts.

Feels good starting over.