Fractured Paceline

It was another chilly, windy morning, at least by my standards. I went out in tights and long-sleeve jersey, knowing it would warm up once the sun rose but unwilling to suffer on the ride out to the lakefront. From a block away I scanned the meeting corner looking for flashing lights.  There were none. I rode down the block a bit, wondering if I'd be riding into the north wind alone.  Finally the riders started to trickle in, all a little late. Some were missing entirely, others had lost time searching for long-unused cool weather gear. Two of the missing would join up with us along the way. Out on Wisner Avenue there's an overpass alongside the bayou that crossed the railroad tracks and Interstate 610. It's been scheduled for demolition and replacement, and although the start date had been pushed back a couple of times, it is now imminent. This morning all of the light posts were gone, there was a big crane or pile-driver parked in the grass, and a new temporary access road for the construction trucks.  Perhaps it will still be open tomorrow morning for the WeMoRi, but clearly its days are numbered.  Once it's closed, it will be at least a year before the replacement bridge, complete with recreational bike lane, is ready.  The bike lane that's planned will likely be useless for us since it will be tied into the little winding bike path along the bayou and will be a 2-way path, all on one side of the bridge.

My fears of a low turnout were for naught today.  By the time we started into the Lakeshore Drive headwind the group was up to its normal count of 20 or so. I had already decided to stay as protected as possible.  I am sore in all sorts of odd places as a result of my recent cyclocross endeavors.  Surprisingly, my lower back isn't much of a problem (it was hurting quite a bit toward the end of the race despite my slow pace). My inner thighs, upper hips, shoulders and right arm, however, are still rather achy, and my quads feel like they got a pretty good workout too. Anyway, once we made the loop around Seabrook and started back down Lakeshore Drive with a nice tailwind the pace predictably picked up.  I was tucked in near the front as we approached the bridge when I heard someone say something way behind us.  It didn't quite sound it had the usual urgency of a flat tire, and the guys in front seemed to ignore it, but then we heard more yelling and finally realized someone had flatted. We all sat up, but by then we were approaching the traffic circle, so rather than turn around we continued on at an easy pace all the way to the end of Lakeshore Drive.  Looking back, we still couldn't see anyone coming. As it turned out it had been a big sidewall cut that had required a boot. When we got to the bike path I was with a couple other riders with the small lead group about fifteen seconds ahead of us.  I told them I was going to soft-pedal until the rest of the group arrived, so they went ahead and bridged up to the front group which then picked up its pace.

Out at the last little bridge I saw Robin stopped and realized he was watching a bald eagle that was eating a fish out on the breakwater and was being harassed by an osprey that was trying to steal his breakfast.  I stopped for a little while until the rest of the group finally caught up.

The ride back into the headwind was a long one.  I just glued myself to Brian's wheel for most of it since he always seems happy to sit on the front and tow everybody for miles on end.