The wind grew stronger throughout the day. Late this afternoon, the stretch of Crescent Street that leads to the Queensborough (59th Street) Bridge had become a veritable wind tunnel. So had some of the surrounding streets. But in others, the air was as calm as it is in an airliner's cabin.
That is one of the interesting quirks of urban cycling. On the open road, when the wind is blowing, it's either in your face, at your sides or at your back. And the wind at your side can, if it's strong enough, impede your progress as much as a headwind if you're riding "Deep V" rims. When you're cycling in the woods, the trees and sometimes the hills or rock outcroppings block at least some of the wind. At least, in the time I spent riding in the woods, I never found the wind to be as much of an issue as it can be on the road.
But I think that the effect of the wind is at its least predictable when riding asphalt rivers through concrete canyons. I wonder why that is.
Now, my commute today wasn't more difficult than usual. At least, it couldn't have been as difficult as what these guys faced:
That is one of the interesting quirks of urban cycling. On the open road, when the wind is blowing, it's either in your face, at your sides or at your back. And the wind at your side can, if it's strong enough, impede your progress as much as a headwind if you're riding "Deep V" rims. When you're cycling in the woods, the trees and sometimes the hills or rock outcroppings block at least some of the wind. At least, in the time I spent riding in the woods, I never found the wind to be as much of an issue as it can be on the road.
But I think that the effect of the wind is at its least predictable when riding asphalt rivers through concrete canyons. I wonder why that is.
Now, my commute today wasn't more difficult than usual. At least, it couldn't have been as difficult as what these guys faced:
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