By Stan Purdum
“May the wind be always at your back.” So goes one verse of a well-known old Irish blessing. And, as any bicyclist knows, it’s more wishful thinking than prophetic benediction.
Headwinds, which slow forward progress and tire riders quickly, are a fact of life for those who bike. (Of course, this blessing was clearly not written for cyclists. Its opening salvo is, “May the road rise to meet you,” which is hardly the prayer of any rider who has pumped up a 7-percent grade!)
A ride with a strong tailwind, however, is a joy. With a good breeze pushing, even an inexperienced rider can log an extra 10 miles a day. And the hope of going with the flow is the reason most transcontinental bike trips begin on the West Coast. Supposedly, the jet stream causes surface air to move more often from west to east than the opposite way.
In practice, however, the wind often seems to be headed whichever way the rider isn’t. But from time to time, the wind does come from behind, gracing whatever riders it chances to catch with a friendly shove and a light heart.
On tailwind days, I feel as if I can ride forever. I remember the exhilaration of early rides that hooked me on biking to start with. I get that “all’s-right-with-the-world” attitude, start noticing the scenery instead of the tarmac, and even begin to count myself blessed.
And well I should. Tailwinds, happy days, times when all plans turn out as desired are rare enough to make each occurrence a jewel. We’re all wise to revel in them and store up their memory for headwind days.
The danger from tailwinds is when they lull riders into thinking they can ride forever, a common experience on out-and-back trips. If there’s a tailwind on the outbound leg, the temptation is to go too far. Then the return journey is an overlong struggle with wind in one’s teeth, desperation in one’s heart and the word “fool” stuck in one’s craw.
On second thought, though, the power of tailwind optimism outweighs the risk. Seeing what is possible when everything goes right causes us to challenge ourselves and extend our reach toward higher goals — a worthy benefit in any field of endeavor.
Headwinds either discourage would-be riders or build perseverance and character in those who keep cycling.
Tailwinds help us to glimpse the vision, attempt the impossible, and plan transcontinental bike trips. And in the long run, the ability to dream is as important as the ability to face adversity.
—from Stan’s book, Roll Around Heaven All Day
Stan Purdum has ridden several long-distance bike trips, including an across-America ride recounted in his book Roll Around Heaven All Day, and a trek on U.S. 62, from Niagara Falls, New York, to El Paso, Texas, the subject of his book Playing in Traffic. Stan, a freelance writer and editor, lives in Ohio. See more at www.StanPurdum.com.
I remember riding home from high school with a strong Santa Ana wind at my back. I’m not usually that lucky with strong winds.
My “heyday” riding (when I was 30-40 years old) was in Casper, Wyoming, where the wind is normally over 15 mph. I learned very quickly to ride out of town against the wind whenever possible, and do so to this day when most of my rides are out-and back on a rail trail in northern VA. If I feel really, really good at the beginning of my ride, chances are I have a tailwind and will not enjoy the return trip nearly as much.
What’s the old saw about how for cyclists there are two kinds of wind: there’s a headwind, and there’s “Man, I’m feeling strong today!”
I love it!
Murphy’s 2nd law of cycling: “If you leave home with a headwind, when you reach your turnaround point, the wind changes direction.”
I don’t know who said this, “Hills are your friends, headwinds make you stronger.”
I always hate club rides that start with a tailwind. People always hammer and push the pace, forgetting that they have to fight the wind on the way home. Gimme a headwind at the beginning of a ride so we can enjoy the tailwind on the way home!