Essay: On Winter’s Mercy
(2020) Winter in the northeast mysteriously disappeared this past weekend and every single endurance athlete took advantage of the conditions. It is a regular scenario to have a winter warmup only to plunge back into the icy weather. A teaser perhaps. To let two days of record warmth pass by would have been sacrilege. Indoor riding was not to be entertained.
A couple of decades ago, when yours truly lived in the icy regions of Upstate New York, I spent the time between Thanksgiving and hockey season attempting to convince my family just how cold the region’s winter was. In fine family style they decided to have a look see themselves. It was a nearly identical-dated weekend, the second weekend in January when the family automobiles climbed into the sleepy Adirondack town. Apparently they brought the down-south weather. Suitcases of thick winter wear were never opened as I was pressed about the ‘coldness’ of the region. We walked atop the frozen lake, even sticking an arm into a fishing hole to ascertain the thickness of the ice. After saturating the sleeve to the shoulder, the icy depth was never determined. As soon as the family made their way back home, winter returned and so, too, did the attempts to convince them of Arctic climes. Sympathy - and credibility - was gone for good.
““If the race had never lived through a winter what would they think was coming?””
Imagine bragging about the hardy endurance required for a Northeast American winter. Icy humid wind chills to the bone. Hollows along the Delaware River prevent some places from seeing direct sunlight for weeks or months. It might snow. It might ice. It might thundersnow. It might dump. Residents endure the wintry cycle long enough before threatening to move to Florida for good. It takes a special person to move through Pennsylvania winters.
This endurance means knowing a good thing when it is forecasted. Saturday featured sixty-degree Fahrenheit weather. All a rider had to do was look past the jet blast wind that blew a seemingly constant 20 miles per hour. To head west was purgatory in exchange for a rocket return. Sunday was even better, yet still windy, with temperatures scratching toward the seventy-degree mark. Sunday was knee warmers and a fleece-lined long sleeve. Sunday was arm warmers and bare legs. All in January!
There were initial plans to head to the Derby in Trexlertown, especially now that the ride starts at 9am, but the wind was a concern. As sexy as a howling tailwind sounds for the derby portion of the ride, it can get a bit dicey with above average amounts of riders. I am not ruling myself out of the diciness, either. Instead a route starting with the tailwind and copious downhills to the Delaware River magically found my pulling up to the Lumberville General Store for coffee and a pastry. The option to sit outside and hardly entertain a single shiver slipped my mind until now. Along the route dozens of riders were sighted, several more rode by the Lumberville during my rest stop, and more riders were saluted on the windy, uphill return.
Given the weather was toasty and comfortable, there were a lot of people out soaking up the low level sunlight and foregoing the thick coats. My point is, this weekend was a record-breaking weekend and I have scores of riders to prove it. Should someone doubt that it is still winter, I can remind them snow is forecasted this Friday. Yes winter has a tendency to be cold around here, but basing it on this past weekend’s cycling-friendly weather is not the idea.
