nearly a (metric) century

I've been anxious to get my road bike out again ever since my first ride of the year during false-spring in early March. After that teasing thaw winter fought back with another 6 weeks of unskiable nastiness (aka., worthless winter).

Now spring has finally come to Edmonton as evidenced by the hoards of pale, fair-weather fitness enthusiasts on the riverbank trails. Not to be left out of the action, this past weekend I threw on my spandex, packed my bike in the truck and headed to Fort Saskatchewan. I wanted to experience more of the same landscape I saw in St. Paul so I headed east on highway 15 past the industrial plants. Dow Chemical, literally part of your environment.

Buoyed by my ultramarathon performance I had great intentions of hammering out a big ride. 200+ km. This wasn't to be. A cold headwind conspired against me the entire way. Have your parents bored you with their childhood story of having to carry their hand-carved desk to and from school? Uphill. Both ways. On the prairies the wind replaces the hills. It doesn't matter which way you turn the gale-force wind is always in your face. There is no escaping it. This childhood memory has soured me on wind. I would rather ride in a hail storm.

So my longtime nemesis, wind, torpedoed my motivation. Some may wonder how you could ever be motivated in the prairies.

Question for the Government of Alberta: How many pennies per km are saved by not repaving the entire shoulder because this is really difficult to ride on.

I have always found the prairies interesting. The Russians that settled this region in the late 19th century.

The many abandoned farm yards: Who lived here? When and why did they leave?

Bridge art in the middle of nowhere.

In the end I managed 97.7km in 4.5 hours. I rode around town for awhile, trying to break 100 km, but I got bored and gave up. It was a good ride and 100 was just a number.