I can tell this one now. It’s warm enough outside for a story like this.
I lived in north Texas for a while. I was in the Town of Lewisville, which is a bit north of Dallas. At the time I was riding the old Schwinn Iron Eagle, a road bike of no particular note. Its principle virtues were reliability, and extreme weight. It was a twelve speed with crappy brakes, but it worked well in that part of Texas. Most of north Texas is prairie land. It’s flat. I mean flat as the floor flat. On the other hand, the wind is almost always blowing, and there is no place to hide from it.
I’d done a fair amount of riding, managed to get thoroughly lost several times, and had explored enough to have several favorite rides and routes. When work, and other obligations permitted, I liked to do one of several long rides.
One other piece of background info. September is a summer month, but north Texas weather is… shall we say …variable.
I got up early, on a Saturday morning. It was not yet light out when I started. The overnight temps had dropped into an almost chilly range, but the forecast was for a warm day. I was wearing a light jacket, over summer riding clothes. Shortly after dawn I took the jacket off. The day was warming, and the wind was out of the south, warm and humid. There was a high haze that did nothing to cut the bite out of the sun. At least it was a mostly tailwind. I made good time. Two hours into the ride, I was a good 35 miles along. This was my water stop. I needed it.
That tailwind was moving me right along, but it was getting warm, and I was using water. Another hour and I realized I was going to need to make an additional water stop. That didn’t bother me. I was making good time.
My goal was to get up to Late Texoma, on the Texas-Oklahoma border. That would be about 75 miles for an outbound leg. There was a nice park at my turn around, right on the water. I would be able to eat my lunch in the park, take it easy for a while, and then do the trip back. I even took a nap. My plan was to do most of the return trip after the heat of the day passed. That worked out amazingly.
I was filling my bottles, getting ready for my return ride, when I noticed a nice, cooling breeze, coming in off the lake. Hey! Off the lake was good. That meant the wind had shifted around and was now coming from the north. Then I noticed that the clouds and that high haze were moving off to the south, and doing so rather quickly.
The air actually felt almost pleasant, nicely cooler than it had been. “Deliberate haste,” I told myself. “Seventy five miles to home. Not going to do it in a rush.” But I didn’t waste any time pulling myself together and getting on the bike. Another half hour, and the temperature had dropped to an extremely pleasant mid-70s, and the wind had picked up. By then the sky was a severe clear, and extremely deep blue in color. The increasing tailwind was helping me. I was making good time, but I expected I’d need it. I have to admit I was having fun, even though I had forebodings.
Two hours into the return trip, and I had gone over 40 miles. The wind was definitely pushing me along, but the temp was still dropping. I didn’t need the store clerk to say what he did.
“Yep. Looks like we’re in for a blue norther.”
I had already been thinking that. I hadn’t wanted to hear it.
A “Blue Norther” is a Texas thing. Seems like they can happen at almost any time of the year, but late Summer through mid Spring is the most likely. The wind swings around and comes out of the north. The temperature drops sharply, and the wind builds up. And up! Temperature swings of 40 degrees in an hour are not unheard of. In six hours the mercury can drop from 85 degrees down into the 20s. Or lower.
As I walked out of the store, the wind was gusting and beginning to be sharp. At least it was going to be a tailwind. I was shivering as I mounted the bike. I stopped and pulled on my jacket. It helped.
An hour later, I had stopped again and bought an early edition Sunday paper. I’d distributed it across my back, under my jacket, and in tubes inside the sleeves. That helped too. I’d also bought a lousy stocking cap, and a pair of work gloves. Those helped a bit more. In retrospect, I’m really glad that the “mushroom hat” helmets of that day were poorly ventilated.
The last twenty miles of my ride were an exercise in misery. I was moving. Moving fast. But I was on the ragged border of serious hypothermia. I was shivering so hard that controlling the bike was difficult. If cell phones had existed, I would have swallowed my pride and called for a ride. They didn’t. By the time I was in Lewisville, I was only a few more miles away from home. It didn’t seem worthwhile to stop and make a call. I toughed it out for another ten minutes.
It was just after 4:00 P.M. I had made outstanding time on that return leg. I’d averaged over 20 mph, including the stops! But the radio was announcing a temperature in the upper 30s, and I was chilled to the bone. That was one of those rides. It was one where this rider was just incredibly glad to reach the end.
A long, hot shower, and about 300 cups of coffee and 1,000 calories later, I was starting to feel almost human again.
I should add this. Eighteen weeks later, on New Year’s Day, a group of us did the same route. We had almost exactly opposite results. We started out into a nasty, misty day, with the wind in our faces. As the day wore on, the drizzle stopped, the clouds lifted, and right after we reached the lake, the wind swung around to come out of the south. By the time we finished, the temp was in the high 70s. Of course, we’d had a headwind in both directions, but… When I heard the others griping about that, I just smiled and said, “Believe me, you want it that way.”
Adventure Defined: Someone else, having a really bad time of it, a long way from here.
Adventures are a whole lot more fun when you aren’t having them.
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