Wet Without the Rain

I didn't think I'd be riding the Giro this morning.  The forecast offered little hope Saturday night, but of course I've lived here a long time and have learned to always take the forecast with more than a grain of salt.  When the alarm went off at 5:45, I first listened for the sound of car tires on wet pavement.  Hearing none, I checked the radar and, surprise, it looked fine. All the rain was far away from New Orleans.  The temperature was something like 68F, so I put on jersey and shorts and headed down to the basement.  Danielle was planning on coming out to take a shot at the Giro Ride.  Outside, it was damp and a little foggy but otherwise fine as we cruised up Carrollton and Wisner toward Starbucks.  As we passed the big clock on the Whitney bank on Harrison Avenue it read precisely 6:30 am.  We were right on time, but when we pulled into the Starbucks patio I was a little surprised to discover that we were the first ones there.  Maybe the forecast had scared everyone away?  Well, eventually a number of the regular riders filtered in, mostly a bit later than usual, and we rolled out at the usual 7:00. 

As we headed north on Marconi the fog got thicker, and the closer we got to the lake the worse it got. It never really got any better.  The group had to stop and walk over the steel grating atop the Seabrook bridge because it was so wet, and by the time we were halfway down Hayne Blvd. my clear glasses were fogged up so much that water was starting to drip from them.  Thanks to the smaller group, northeast headwind, and generally wet weather the pace never got out of hand and Danielle was doing fine hanging with the group.  Out on Hayne Blvd. the front half of the group set up a nice paceline and the rest, including us, tagged along in the crosswind, mostly up against the right edge of the road. At that point I rode up alongside and a bit ahead of Danielle to provide some shelter from the crosswind.  That turned out to be a nice little workout, actually, and fortunately the pace was pretty steady.  My plan was to have us turn around early because I knew it would get fast in the tailwind that was awaiting us on the return trip, so when the pace surged about a mile before Venetian Isles, we dropped off the back and turned around.  Motoring along at 23 or so with the tailwind was pretty smooth and I figured that if we could get most of the way to the Goodyear sprint before the pack caught us, the rest of the ride would be relatively smoothly.  The timing worked out quite well. A little break caught us just as they were ramping it up for the sprint, and so we went around the turn onto the service road with the group.  So for the first time in quite a while I logged something in the neighborhood of 300 miles for the week.  It's looking like next weekend's collegiate races at MSU will have me officiating a lot more than riding, but since that's the conference championship it'll probably be my last 10-hour road trip for a while.