awandering out on the hills of iowa

So, new plan…
Seeing that is June 27th, a mere 24 days since my last entry, I have decided to record some of the more recent happenings of Bike & Build, as they are fresh in my mind, and fill in the gaps eventually.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Peru, IL to Clinton, IA 90miles

We woke up at 5:30 this morning in preparation for a long day.

I had a bike date with Christine “Coach” Culver today – part of the Kent crew (Christine, Sam and I rode together on an awesome ride into Kent, Connecticut what seems like eons ago). I was feeling pretty awesome for the first 50 miles before lunch – the sky was big and blue and dotted with puffy clouds; there were these hills that appeared out of nowhere taking us all by surprise, but they were nice rolling hills that added some spice to the Illinois flatness.

After lunch the wind picked up… oh man the wind. Wind is a very demoralizing thing on a bike. Its worse even then huge hills I would say. When climbing hills you can see the hill. You realize its huge and that it’s going to kick your butt, and you’re ready for it. You crank it into granny gear, put your head down and go. And once you’re at the top you can inform the hill that it has been owned, and then cruise down the other side at 40 miles per hour.

Wind on the other hand… You can’t see it. Sometimes I don’t even notice it. I look down at my speedometer and realize that I’m killing myself just to go 13 mph on a slight downgrade. You can’t conquer the wind. You can’t inform the wind loudly and profanely that it has been conquered. And fighting the wind for 30 minutes does not necessarily mean that you have increased your potential energy. Wind is rough. The wind today was not as bad as it was before the storm a couple days ago, but it did suffice to put me in a bad mood until we reached the mighty Missippi. There we paused to admire the view and our progress, before we caulked our bikes and attempted to ford the river. It’s amazing how much of the sky you can see when the landscape is generally flat. Looking out from the bridge half the sky was covered in friendly blue with happy white clouds and half by the angry looking storm that more or less left us alone (except for the wind).

I rode into Clinton, Iowa belting Dar Williams’ “Iowa”.