It’s not really fall until instead of taking arm warmers on a ride you actually wear them.
I packed mine on Wednesday’s ride and pulled them on after the first descent. Yesterday I had them on before I rolled out of the garage.
And both days I was wearing knickers.
Only three of us showed for Wednesday’s Geezer Ride — our senior leadership, two 80-somethings who also ski, plus Your Humble Narrator — and the outing turned out to be something of a bust once we turned south into a ridiculous headwind.
The cadre has not been much interested in climbing lately, so the ascent of Simms Road was right out. And grinding along into that brisk headwind was — well, if not exactly Mao’s Long March, neither was it your barrel of monkeys of which it is said that nothing is more fun.
So when my companions suggested cutting the ride short, I agreed. It seemed colder than the alleged temperature indicated, and the wind has been my least favorite weather feature since my very first bicycle race, a 40km out-and-back time trial that I thought I was crushing because guess why? Huge tailwind on the way out. On the way back? Um, not so much.
Had I been alone on Wednesday I would’ve done what I usually do in those conditions: commence random changes in direction like a spook trying to lose a tail. Off the road and onto the trails, this way and that, using the Sandias’ rubble and shrubbery as a windscreen.
I was on the Soma Double Cross, with some mildly knobby Hutchinson Caracals in 700x35mm and a triple crank with a low end of 24x34T (19 gear inches) that lets me spin instead of stomp. Nearly perfect for that sort of getaway. But leaving the lads on their own would’ve been rude, so I shelved the idea and didn’t peel off until home was just a few blocks away.
Yesterday was warmer and less blustery — starting at noon instead of 9 was definitely a factor — but I still wore arm warmers and knicks and opted for a solo, two-hour Vuelta de Variable Surfaces.
It’s a great ride to do on a brisk Thursday in fall. The kids are in school, their parents are nose to grindstone, and a lone geezer can do as he pleases. Generally I ride side streets to the Embudito trailhead, slalom over to the Bear Canyon/Michial Emery trail, take that into the Elena Gallegos Open Space, and pick a loop or two from the non-technical menu.
Then I’ll blast down Simms and turn north into Sandia Heights, climb a series of low-traffic hills I like, and on the way home sample a selection of the unofficial trails that provide off-street options along Blue Gramma, Academy, Spain, and Tramway.
It’s not hard to cobble together a ride of 20 miles or more this way. And like crucifixion, it gets me out in the open air.
If I’m careful I don’t collect any fresh stigmata.
