Essay: On Getting Some Sun
(2021) There is a story surrounding one of the greatest aviators in history, Brigadier General Chuck Yeager, the first pilot to break the sound barrier and live to talk about it. The story goes Chuck Yeager would root around the hangars and roll out the dogs parked indoors. He felt the planes needed sunlight and figured leaving them on the tarmac did them some good. After a year of pandemic and the sudden onslaught of winter, this story is relatable.
There have been considerable snow dumpings over the last few weeks. A recent internet search revealed the daily low never went over the freezing mark for over four weeks. Those who ride in Pennsylvania know the deal: snow and ice equal potholes. Add to the dangers a tunnel-like effect along roads and the possibility of a ride in an ambulance unit rises. When considering the pros and cons of riding outdoors, the trainer was fired up in every scenario. Honestly the virtual platform is hard to get motivated for these days.
Over this past weekend the frigid temperatures and heavy snowfall were traded for messy conditions. Rain both days left salty puddles everywhere. Clouds floated off snowbanks as rain diminished their size, leaving behind gravel-filled ice banks that felt like tiny razors when attempting to pack into a snowball. Both Saturday and Sunday featured heavy rainfall. Again the virtual world was fired up. A grunt was made each time the leg was thrown over the top tube.
Our ever-ready selves saw a change in the weather Saturday in the late afternoon. There we were, chipping away at the snowbanks in an attempt to reclaim space in the office parking lot when the sun burst out. It shone down long enough to create dry patches in the road. Looking back at the trusty road bike with its fresh tires on it (installed a month ago and still haven’t been tested) it was decided to roll the bike into the sun to do it some good. How great it felt to roll the bike out as if packing up the team car for a race. For a brief moment we used sunglasses. Everything looked to realign itself back to normal. There was beauty found in a snowbank with its own waterfall and backlit sunshine. I would have paid a friend to encourage a hawk to land on my shoulder.
How quickly it all changed. The sun set, the temperature dropped, and the road returned to its damp self. The next morning the curtains were pulled back and rain was making its appearance on the roadway. Puddles could have been mistaken for small ponds by fowl. A little more tire pressure came out of the road bike, the virtual world was fired up again. There was a grunt accompanying the start of the smart trainer. At one point a glance was given out the window to reassure it was in fact raining. The window was packed full of dark rain clouds.
For just a brief moment the road bike saw the outside world, a first for the calendar year, and a first roll outside since the Festive 500. Some may puff out their chest and say outside riding must go on. I say, given the current status of hospitals in the country, it is hardly worth the risk. I can find dwindling motivation to mount the trainer as spring approaches. It’s the fact that logging those miles is a possibility makes it special. To roll the bike out into the sun while not having ridden it is a yard stick of our current events. Less messy weekends are coming. Until then we will park the bike out in the sun to do it some good.
