Wind 101

We drove up to Hawi Monday afternoon with the bikes on the back of the car, the plan being to hop out at the top and ride down. The drive up through the lava fields was wild to see in real-life - it looks the same as it does on TV, but on TV you can't really grasp how vast they are - they just go on forever - up towards the hills - and down towards the coast. They're littered with those brown clumps of what looks like dead grass (which you can watch blowing more and more in the wind the further up you go), and you see the little signs and tributes made in carefully placed white rocks on the black lava piles all over the place. It actually looks like something you'd see out west, with tumbling tumbleweed and whole lot of nothing for miles and miles. It's a fortunate thing I paid so much attention driving up .... because I didn't see much of it on the way down.

The lava fields with the grassy clumps (none of which stand a chance of growing straight, for obvious reasons).

Tributes in white rocks. Carefully created ... and meaningful to someone.

We get up to Hawi, get out of the car, get the bikes off the back ... and notice that Pat's front tire is flat. How a tire gets flat while hanging peacefully on a bike rack is a bit of a mystery, and the hole in the tube was on the INSIDE near the stem (not on the road side of the tube - the up side - figure that one out). After quickly changing the tire, having a nice chat with another Aussie (those guys are everywhere) looking for the turn around, and taking a deep breath, we were on our way.

They're not kidding about the winds ... and we went up in the afternoon to give them ample time to build up steam (no, that really wasn't intentional - it just happened that way - we had a run in the morning and then Pat got an ART treatment. We did realize the winds would be bad this time of day, but also figured if Pat got a feel for them now, then when she was up there during the race (which would be hours earlier in the day) it might actually feel significantly easier ... it all seemed like sound logic at the time). For me, the first few minutes consisted of a death grip on the handlebars, thoughts that there's no way in hell I can get down into my aero bars without wobbling wildly and flying off the road (remember my experience on aero bars is now topping out at roughly 24hours), and wondering what kind of crazy I really am. The next few minutes were much of the same. Tom was SAG'ing again (god love that guy!) and leapfrogging us - so every time I got to him I had that personal battle of 'Should I stop? Can I do this? Sh*t!' ... thankfully I started to get control of my head and thought to sensibly ask myself 'Am I ok?'  ... and the thought crossed my mind: it's easier to regret what you do, girl, not what you don't do. With that, of course I went on (was there really any other choice?). The next time I caught back up to our SAG vehicle I remembered the Lizardhead guys' instructions to give them a thumbs up if you're ok ... thumbs down if you need help ... so I gave Tom a (wobbly) thumbs up and kept going. I won't say I was getting comfortable in the wind, but I had now lived for about 10 minutes and figured my odds were looking pretty good. I got up the nerve to try to get into my aero bars and after a couple seconds of wobbling, I settled in and started breathing again ... until the next HUGE gust of wind. My forearms apparently have no idea how to deal with that yet (do they learn?) so I was instantly sitting back up, prying my shoulders out of my ears, and asking myself 'Am I ok?! Am I ok?'. I was ok.

Things got better over the next several miles. I could get into my aerobars and stay there (after brief experimentation, my wind studies showed that a) when you can do it, being down in your aerobars makes it more difficult for the wind to grab you and throw you off the road, b) faster is better - much much better (somewhat of a problem for a slow rider like me, though even I can come up with some remarkable speed when properly motivated) and c) under no circumstances whatsoever do you stop pedaling. So, I'm feeling ok, and happy with myself that I found a way to sort of settle in .... and then the rumble strip appeared. This wouldn't be so bad if the road were closed (as it is during the race, for reasons I now fully understand) ... but with the road open you either had to ride IN traffic or to the right of the rumble strip - which put you about a foot closer to the scary side of the pavement (the berm was already pretty narrow up there) giving you much less space to compensate for the wind when you needed to. I chose to stay on the berm, to the right of the rumblestrip, and just get better in a hurry at dealing with the wind. I felt like I was almost pointed at a slight angle into the wind, and leaning into it - I guess because I was - and somehow found some stability. Down in my aero bars when the winds were steady but not crazy-gusting, feeling good, not relaxed but as close to it as I can get, and just amazed that I'm actually doing this ... and then I roll over a sign spray painted on the pavement that's clearly been there a while, and laugh out loud. It says "Crazy!". Yep, my thoughts exactly. 

I was under the misconception that 'down' meant 'downhill' ... but there are actually some hills out there - not steep, but long. Truth be told, I was pretty happy when I got to a hill - in a tougher gear I just felt much more solid. Plus these hills (unlike Colorado mountains, for instance) didn't last 14 miles - you could SEE the top (just like back home). At some point I realized I hadn't had a drink since we started - so when a little outcropping of rock showed up I took advantage of it, stopped for a drink and a quick picture, and was on my way again. It would be quite a feat to grab a water bottle during that stretch from Hawi - I'm seriously going to have to look for that on the TV footage this year because if someone can manage that they get HUGE points from me (the aerobar water bottle is definitely the ticket here!).

My one brief stop on the way down from Hawi, protected by one of the few rock outcroppings.

The wind kept up, but the rumblestrip went away, and I just enjoyed the rest of the ride, knowing it would probably be over long before I wanted it to end. It was. At the bottom, I was relieved to hear that Pat had the same thoughts as I did about the wind, the rumblestrips, aerobars and grabbing fluid. Tom, SAG driver extraordinaire, was only a few minutes behind us and after a quick picture (it's always good to have proof that you survived) and a joking 'Let's do it again! Let's do it again!' we hopped in the car and headed back to the condo. What an experience!

Pat and me after the ride down from Hawi - still smiling!  It's all good!