Friday, March 02, 2007

The Perils of Riding in Unpredictable Weather

A friend of mine, Glenn, and I went out at around 1:30 pm to do an easy 2 hours. The forecast was 43-ish with windchills around 35 and wind out of the SSW at 9. We got down just outside of Zionsville and out of nowhere a dark cloud formed over us, the temperature dropped noticeably and it began to rain. I got wet almost immediately - through my clothing...gloves, tights and even my "water resistant" jacket. Then came the freezing rain - it felt like thousands of tiny razor-sharp icicles piercing my face. I kept telling myself, "this will let up...it isn't that bad...it won't kill me" (thinking Frederick Nietzsche)...but it didn't last long.

After about a few miles of this, we turned north hoping for improvement, but got little, We had to stop at this little church so that Glenn could figure out why his pedal was sticking to his cleat and he had no float. He clipped out and one of his cleat plates and screws popped out. He wanted to fix it. In my most direct and blunt fashion I said (and as most of you that know me understand what this means), "screw it, just ride it home...we aren't sprinting or climbing and I don't want to freeze my ass off while you fix your cleat". So, we rode on, but we decided to change our ride plan. Instead of heading north all the up to 156th, we decided to head back through Zionsville and go the most direct route to my house, and I would take Glenn home in the car.

A few miles later, Glenn decided that he was going to be in trouble soon. He has a circulation problem in his hands and he was starting to lose feeling in his fingertips. He decided to call his wife to meet him in Zionsville and pick him up. It was absolutely freezing at this point as we were both fairly wet and the wind was harsh and the temps had dropped. NONE of this was in the forecast or on the radar when I left.

Just on the outskirts of Zionsville, I couldn't feel either of my forefingers or thumbs and me toes were starting to go numb. I did something that I have never done in my 20 years of cycling...I pulled out my phone, called my wife and said "come and get me". She asked me if I was joking and my response was a plain, dry, "no, I am not".

We got to the Citgo station in Zionsville where we headed in and to our surprise were two other cyclists that also got "caught out". They were "billboards" (my term for guys in team clothing with sponsors all over it) and looked quite young (and one quite stupid as he had on knickers and NO shoe covers - we found out that he did NOT have any gloves either!!!). It turns out that one of these guys was a local "up and coming" racer, a fellow named "Guy East". If you are curious, just go to USACycling.org and check out his stats. The guy is fresh out of high school and is racing at the Pro/1 level. He is destined for great things. Anyway, as it turns out he had called his dad to come and pick them up as well. So, we spent the next half-hour waiting, drinking bad coffee and chatting it up about track racing, pro racing, and whatever else related to cycling.

I said as they left that I though for sure that we (Glenn and I) were the only idiots out today. Guy said, "misery loves company". Once in the car on the way home, it occurred to me that he may meant something other than what I thought he did.

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