Today's ride was the windiest. Flags looked starched. The windsock at the airport looked like a skinny Pinocchio. Riding with the wind was effortless and very, very fast. Riding into the wind felt like an endless climb up a steep, steep hill. Riding with the wind from the side made you actually tip slightly, forcing you to lean into it like a turn. We rode for a couple of hours. We had only gone 30 miles, but I was as physically spent as if we had ridden three times that.
Being mature adults is boring. Playing in the wind on a bike? Now that is like being 10 years old again.