Tailwinds ride 29 April

As written by my riding buddy, BowWow

Yesterday Mrs. Rob drove us 45 km into a stiff headwind, to the gates of Waterton National Park. There Rob and I disembarked the Robstermobile, thanked Mrs. Rob profusely, and leapt upon our carbon steeds for a True Tailwinds ride.

The wind was howling off the lake, my legs were howling at me to get spinning. I stood on the pedals without cranking, and was blown up to 4 km/h almost instantly. This was gonna be a goodun! We headed out, squirming to get settled in the saddles, working out the accumulated desk-jockey kinks in the backs. The road ahead bode well for us as we crossed the Shrieking Bridge. Rob commented that the car folks never hear that song...

Speed comes quickly when you have a nice tailwind. We soon were cruising at well over 40 km/h, looking at the big ring/smaller cogs before even getting warmed up. The rising road felt like a descent, the rollers rolled under our wheels, the wind roared it's impotent wrath at our backs.

Glancing to the south we were stunned by the glory of the snow-glazed ridge rising in Rocky majesty just across the US line. The grasslands in the foreground were an interesting mix of intense green rising inexorably through the brown remnants of last summer's graze. Rounding a rising corner we noticed three elk staring intently at us across the road. Not quite sure what to do, they started, then stopped again, wide-eyed at the humans. We called to them, asking why they were so far out of the park, and wondering where the other 997 were. They jumped, and headed into the sheltering brush.

Cresting the ridge then dropping into the river bottom, we both sprinted with the wind at our backs. Rob led out, pulling to 75 km/h. I glanced past him and instantly hit the pedals, spinning up to well over 120 rpm. I knew we had enough room to make 80 before the bridge. 83.5 to be exact! As I blew past Rob he jumped onto my wheel and we shot across the bridge without even noticing the expansion joints. Ain't carbon grand!

The climbs floated by, the flats became 50 k runs, the descents went to over 70. We "exceeded the speed limit" through Mountain View, crested the ridge past the Beazer turnoff and gave our mighty steeds their heads over the rollers and into the Leavitt valley. Rob let me get a good lead as we headed to the base of Monson's hill, then blew by me halfway up. I managed my pace well, keeping the effort under control, and crested without blowing up (still climbing way slow, but that'll come...), and held 21 over the top.

Rob mentioned running chainless - not today for me, but that'll come soon enough this season. And we both could have used that 11 tooth cog often on this ride!

We dropped over the edge of Tracey's hill and I took the pull (I do that on the descents...), and we rocketed around the final turn. Two quick rollers and one sign sprint (I caught Rob napping - hee hee!!!!), a very fast +50 k along the false flat, and we were into town and home.

It seems like the past couple of years of cycling have been focussed on fitness. Slogging into the headwinds, doing hill repeats, hammering the dark winter away on the rollers.

Yesterday was simply joy. The joy is back!