Manotick, 55km, two hours
And I was flying. To be moving so silently and effortlessly, at such speed was heaven. Especially after plodding about on my tootsie roll-tired commuter bike all winter.
Sure, it had started badly, with me bursting a tube while pumping up my tires before setting out. But that was behind me.
It seemed like Manotick appeared out of nowhere. After 47 minutes, I was there. Average speed something like 36km/h. Nothing could stop me. Heck I could do the RLCT today.
Then I crossed the river and headed back. Oh my god.
I had checked the Weather Network’s Ottawa forecast to decide what to wear. I saw 12 degrees and nothing else. Now that I’m back, I see that the winds were 35km from the north west.
I think I spent most of the trip back in my lowest gear (you know, the one you usually reserve for climbing hills at the end of a long ride?) desperately trying to maintain 20km/hr and to keep my cadence over 90.
How deflating. Okay, maybe I won’t try to make Kingston tomorow. (Mind you, if the wind is from the same direction and speed tomorrow, I could do it. Of course, coming back I’d need a taxi.)
