A problem with wind

In polite terms we called it a bothersome wind.

It is the sort of thing that can take the edge off an otherwise perfect day of cycling.

It was sunny and not too uncomfortably warm for the last weekend in August and importantly it was dry and with a good chance of it staying that way for the duration of our planned ride.

The wind however, was its own master.

I am of that age when the weather forecast can be the most interesting part of the daily news broadcasts. I suppose the obsession with all things climatic comes from an enhanced sense of making the most of time and in the UK a major factor for most activities, although mainly those of an outdoor pursuit type is of course the weather.

It had rained heavily during the night which had been a predicted occurrence for the latter part of friday in our area and there were a few large pools and puddles in the roadside gutters and in the otherwise unnoticed slight depressions in the carriageway.

The morning TV programmes showed a clear map in the middle of the country and I was encouraged by the weather-person saying that it would be a few unlucky people only who may see a short, sharp shower in the daylight hours. I took that to be a good portent for a good cycling day.

What I had failed to notice and in my defence they were not mentioned were the tightly packed arrows coursing across the map from north-west to south-east. We set off for a 5 hour ride, the rear pockets in our jerseys packed with spare parts, mobile phone, cash and, yes, rain jackets just in case the weather-person was after all drastically wrong. Within just a few minutes that wind became very intrusive and for the rest of the day we were battered, buffeted and blown about from every angle.

There was just no chance of respite even in the deepest, tree shrouded lane bottom which only acted in the role of a wind tunnel. The worst parts were in the cresting of an easterly slope to meet the full strength of the wind as it enjoyed an unfettered journey across the Vale of York and up the slopes of the Yorkshire Wolds. Our progress was difficult and slow, even with a downhill stretch which would in calmer conditions be a most enjoyable thing.

It was even worse as we swept down to ride along the base of the hills with any slight gap in the dense hedges funneling the power of the breeze to try, again to throw us off our bikes. The lanes and byways twisted and turned along the edges of the ancient field and meadows and to compensate for the changes in direction and the influence of the strong wind on our progress we had to work our gears hard whilst struggling to stay upright.

Even our much anticipated tack and turn to the south east and the hope of feeling the wind pushing us along effortlessly was a big disappointment. We continued to be thrown around like a paper bag in a back alley breeze.

That was the tone of our whole day under the cosh of that bothersome wind but we persevered and eventually rolled back into our street exhausted but content that we had made it in one piece.