Make it two in a row.
For the second consecutive year and my third time overall, I have completed the Headwaters 100.
The annual ride in the Park Rapids, Minn., area offers routes of approximately 45, 75 and 100 miles. I was prepared to bike 100 miles on Saturday, but like always, my ride is contingent upon the weather.
The drive up north on Friday afternoon was dogged by showers. Just when I started to think the clouds were breaking up or we were driving far enough north to escape the rain, down came another shower.
But things did clear up by the time we arrived in Park Rapids, and the forecast promised sunny skies and 70 degrees on Saturday, a gem of a late September day in northern Minnesota.
It's rare that a day of bicycling is perfect, and Saturday was no exception. First and foremost, it wasn't raining. Rain makes a day miserable, but not impossible. Should it rain in northern Minnesota in late September, however, there's little chance I'm biking 100 miles.
Rain is my biggest fear, followed closely by wind. Wind is nearly impossible to avoid most days, so you expect it. But if you have a breezy day -- a day with winds exceeding 10 mph -- you can be in for a challenge, depending upon how far you're going and how long you're riding against the wind.
Saturday turned out to be a bit breezy, unfortunately, but the route regularly changes directions, so it was never crippling.
The Headwaters 100 seems to stick to its time-tested routes. Some rides vary the route year to year, to keep riders from becoming bored with the route, I guess. I figure if you're doing an organized ride one day per year, having a familiar route isn't a bad thing, as long as the route is a good one.
I set out around 8 a.m., as usual. It was about 55 degrees, warmer than I'd ever expect in Park Rapids. While it was mild, it was overcast, and a bit humid. The air felt damp, and despite the actual temperature, it wasn't the most pleasant 55-degree morning, but I have no complaints. Within minutes of departing from the starting line, I was plenty warm thanks to my interior furnace.
For 100 miles riders, the route heads out of Park Rapids and heads north to Itasca State Park, home of the headwaters of the Mississippi River. The park is about 20 miles north of Park Rapids, but for 100-mile riders, the route weaves off the main highway and past a couple of lakes on its way northward. By the time you reach the park, and the first rest stop, you've biked about 31 miles.
It's not a tough 31 miles, just your basic rolling hills now and then. It's a good start to a 100-mile day, and I did rather well.
The rest stop precedes a 13-mile loop through the park. It's a nice ride, albeit a bit challenging. There are no major hills to climb, but lots of rolling hills. If the entire 100 miles were as challenging as those 13, I might not make it to the finish.
I stopped at the rest stop on my way out to refill my water bottles. At that point I had biked about 46 miles, and was nearly four hours into the ride.
From there the route departs from the park and heads east. Every year it seems that the 7-8 miles east are the easiest of the ride. It's relatively flat and the wind never seems to be an issue. Turning south, however, provided more of a challenge than I anticipated.
The wind had picked up as the morning progressed, and it seemed to be coming out of the south. It wasn't crippling, but the route goes south for about 12 miles, with periodic hills. It was during this stretch that the clouds finally started to burn off. The weather report said it would clear by afternoon, and it was right. It was rather sunny by early afternoon.
When the route finally turned east, there was barely a mile to go to the next rest stop, where they serve lunch. Lunch is soup, but it's better than more peanut butter and bananas, which is a staple of every bike ride in the free world. No, you're not required to consume the two together. At this point I was two-thirds done with the ride.
After lunch it was another 22 miles until the final rest stop of the day. I figured it would take me about 90 minutes to complete the next leg, and considered it to be the final challenge of the day. The route winds every direction on its way to Nevis, an insignificant little town on a big lake, about 11 miles east of Park Rapids.
It probably took me a little more than 90 minutes, but I continued to do well. I tried to forget about the previous 67 miles and treat the next 33 as if it was just another average Saturday afternoon ride. Easier said than done. For the most part, however, I managed to avoid dwelling upon the ominous task ahead of me, from start to finish. I do find myself thinking about how proud I'll be to claim success in biking 100 miles. I don't make a habit of bragging to everyone I know, but occasionally I bring it up.
The last significant leg of the ride provided a rare occurrence for organized bike rides. Rather than riding the same direction as 75-mile riders on a stretch of road, I was riding the opposite direction. The 75-mile riders don't go to Nevis, and as I wound my way back and forth to Nevis, I ended up biking the opposite direction of those riders for a few miles.
I was both envious of them and slightly inspired by them. Part of me wished I was only doing 75 miles, as my day would be about done at that point. But part of me was inspired by the fact that when these riders saw me, they saw somebody who for whatever reason was biking more than they were. That doesn't make me superior or a better rider, for that matter. But it did make me proud, and that provided a bit of an energy boost. I don't remember crossing paths like that with 75-mile riders last year.
Nevis provided the final resting place. There were several riders there when I arrived, and several who came in behind me. I am not an elite rider, so most of them had come and gone. But I was happy with my performance to that point.
The final 11-12 miles of the ride are on relatively flat bike trail, as it's an old railroad bed. I was a bit tired, and didn't complete them as fast as I wanted to, but I maintained a decent pace. I won't blame my performance on the wind, as the trail was primarily westward, but I did notice that the wind was more of a factor traveling west than east. Thanks to trees the wind was a non-factor at times along the trail. I was tired, plain and simple.
I returned to the start/finish line a bit later than I anticipated, in part because I took photos and video during the ride, something I don't normally do. I didn't spend a ton of extra time working the camera, but it did delay the completion of my ride. Regardless, my average riding speed was 15.2 mph. I think that's typically of my past efforts, but I don't normally take note of my average at the end of the day.
There were no amazing tales from this year's Headwaters 100. I didn't set the course on fire, and I didn't suffer any gargantuan hardships.
If my calculations are correct, this is the sixth consecutive year I have biked 100 miles in a day, something I never would have imagined in 2003.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Where did the summer go? (unedited)
I don't regret that I didn't blog this summer. I regret that I didn't do other things, but the missed blog opportunities during our too-short Minnesota summer is far from my biggest regret.
I could blog about a bunch of stuff tonight, such as the meathead at the L.A. Guns concert not so far back, the Bert Farve jersey phenomena, how the White Sox failed to win the lousiest division, by a landslide, in the American League or the near-death experience of Swamp's 4-year-old son. That story still amazes me.
No, none of that tonight. Instead I will remind myself, again, that life is short, and toiling at a morally bankrupt newspaper conglomerate, one that filed financial bankruptcy this spring, is sucking the life out of me.
In our new world order, (post bankruptcy,) we have even fewer people than we had following the late February layoffs. We're producing crappy videos for our website, devoting less than 1 FTE to papers covering cities with populations exceeding 50,000 and pretending we'll find a way to make money selling our product and remain a viable business in five years. (I highly doubt it.)
I get it, newspapers are suffering everywhere, and it's a lousy economy on top of the fact the Internet has raped us of our profitability, which is the reason they exist. Oh sure, it sounds nice, we're in the business of serving our communities with news and information. But that's not why we exist. We're nothing more than another vehicle for generating income. The problem is that the industry has lost advertising revenue to the Internet, and it's classic toothpaste out of the tube, we're never getting that revenue back. We're not.
We're not the only industry that's going to be rendered irrelevant by the Internet? The old folks may look forward to that big, cumbersome telephone directory, but I can't tell you the last time I used one to look up anything. That's ridiculous.
The need for news, like the need for phone numbers, won't go away. The commodity will move from dead trees to pixels on a computer screen, or mobile phone. But the vehicles that have delivered them are rapidly becoming outdated, just like the Ford Pinto.
With all the new wealth created by the Internet, all the new businesses and jobs that nobody could have imagined 15 year ago, something has to fall by the wayside. And there, ladies and gentleman, is your newspaper industry. Some people got fat and happy off the profits of the printed page. Those holding the bag today are likely to end up another casualty of progress. It's the American way.
Will papers cease to exist? I doubt it, but perhaps it's time for a new funding formula. Perhaps one day our newspapers will be nonprofit entities, commodities supported by the users, with no stockholders to be beholden to. That sounds like a lot of work by a lot of people with nobody getting fat off the backs of those toiling at meager salaries to deliver the product.
And after the past several years of hell I've endured at my newspaper conglomerate, I welcome such a day.
It's too bad I won't be around to see it.
I could blog about a bunch of stuff tonight, such as the meathead at the L.A. Guns concert not so far back, the Bert Farve jersey phenomena, how the White Sox failed to win the lousiest division, by a landslide, in the American League or the near-death experience of Swamp's 4-year-old son. That story still amazes me.
No, none of that tonight. Instead I will remind myself, again, that life is short, and toiling at a morally bankrupt newspaper conglomerate, one that filed financial bankruptcy this spring, is sucking the life out of me.
In our new world order, (post bankruptcy,) we have even fewer people than we had following the late February layoffs. We're producing crappy videos for our website, devoting less than 1 FTE to papers covering cities with populations exceeding 50,000 and pretending we'll find a way to make money selling our product and remain a viable business in five years. (I highly doubt it.)
I get it, newspapers are suffering everywhere, and it's a lousy economy on top of the fact the Internet has raped us of our profitability, which is the reason they exist. Oh sure, it sounds nice, we're in the business of serving our communities with news and information. But that's not why we exist. We're nothing more than another vehicle for generating income. The problem is that the industry has lost advertising revenue to the Internet, and it's classic toothpaste out of the tube, we're never getting that revenue back. We're not.
We're not the only industry that's going to be rendered irrelevant by the Internet? The old folks may look forward to that big, cumbersome telephone directory, but I can't tell you the last time I used one to look up anything. That's ridiculous.
The need for news, like the need for phone numbers, won't go away. The commodity will move from dead trees to pixels on a computer screen, or mobile phone. But the vehicles that have delivered them are rapidly becoming outdated, just like the Ford Pinto.
With all the new wealth created by the Internet, all the new businesses and jobs that nobody could have imagined 15 year ago, something has to fall by the wayside. And there, ladies and gentleman, is your newspaper industry. Some people got fat and happy off the profits of the printed page. Those holding the bag today are likely to end up another casualty of progress. It's the American way.
Will papers cease to exist? I doubt it, but perhaps it's time for a new funding formula. Perhaps one day our newspapers will be nonprofit entities, commodities supported by the users, with no stockholders to be beholden to. That sounds like a lot of work by a lot of people with nobody getting fat off the backs of those toiling at meager salaries to deliver the product.
And after the past several years of hell I've endured at my newspaper conglomerate, I welcome such a day.
It's too bad I won't be around to see it.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
BulletBoys write! (unedited)
Ah, the Internet.
Allegedly I had none other than BulletBoys bassist Rob Lane reply to my review of his show from February at Pickle Park. Specifically, it was this post: Bulletboys Sing!
And he did so this past weekend, more than three months after I wrote it.
I have no idea how easily it would be to find my review of the show via a Google search, and I don't care. I write for my benefit. If somebody stumbles across a blog entry, that's great. If they respond...all the better. But that's not the purpose of my writing, as I have said many times.
Rob is the current bassist of the band. Of course I don't know who he is, I can't even remember the original BulletBoys, despite being a fan of the band back in the day. Somehow Rob stumbled across my review and read it. (Again, we're assuming it was Rob who wrote it.)
Rob appears to be rather busy in the music industry, so when he's not playing bass for Marq Torien, he's playing in other bands. Probably a good idea, as I can't imagine a dude can make a living performing with the BulletBoys in 2009.
Rob didn't say much. He thought it was a good set, even though I pointed out it was missing one significant song in the BulletBoys catalog.
I admire him for reading it and not judging my opinion. I was critical of the set, disappointed by the lead singer's effort, underwhelmed by the band as a whole and questioned why the band is still in existence. Despite that, he didn't suggest I was an idiot or a moron for my opinions. It's hard to be criticized for your work, even if you're just one piece of the puzzle, and not be defensive. That's rather cool, and I admire the guy for it.
While I'm not interested in paying to see the BulletBoys again, perhaps I'd go if the ticket is free. And last I read, the BulletBoys are touring with what passes for Faster Pussycat and Bang Tango these days. (Faster Pussycat is much like BulletBoys...lead singer and nobody else from the glory days. Can't say for sure if more than the Bang Tango lead singer is still around.) So perhaps I'll see the BulletBoys yet again, if this tour comes to town.
If it does, I'll go out of my way to introduce myself to Rob, and then hope it was really him who commented on my blog.
I have to think it's legitimate. I know a lot of people like to screw around on the Internet, but nobody can be so bored that he'd impersonate a replacement BulletBoy. Not even me.
Allegedly I had none other than BulletBoys bassist Rob Lane reply to my review of his show from February at Pickle Park. Specifically, it was this post: Bulletboys Sing!
And he did so this past weekend, more than three months after I wrote it.
I have no idea how easily it would be to find my review of the show via a Google search, and I don't care. I write for my benefit. If somebody stumbles across a blog entry, that's great. If they respond...all the better. But that's not the purpose of my writing, as I have said many times.
Rob is the current bassist of the band. Of course I don't know who he is, I can't even remember the original BulletBoys, despite being a fan of the band back in the day. Somehow Rob stumbled across my review and read it. (Again, we're assuming it was Rob who wrote it.)
Rob appears to be rather busy in the music industry, so when he's not playing bass for Marq Torien, he's playing in other bands. Probably a good idea, as I can't imagine a dude can make a living performing with the BulletBoys in 2009.
Rob didn't say much. He thought it was a good set, even though I pointed out it was missing one significant song in the BulletBoys catalog.
I admire him for reading it and not judging my opinion. I was critical of the set, disappointed by the lead singer's effort, underwhelmed by the band as a whole and questioned why the band is still in existence. Despite that, he didn't suggest I was an idiot or a moron for my opinions. It's hard to be criticized for your work, even if you're just one piece of the puzzle, and not be defensive. That's rather cool, and I admire the guy for it.
While I'm not interested in paying to see the BulletBoys again, perhaps I'd go if the ticket is free. And last I read, the BulletBoys are touring with what passes for Faster Pussycat and Bang Tango these days. (Faster Pussycat is much like BulletBoys...lead singer and nobody else from the glory days. Can't say for sure if more than the Bang Tango lead singer is still around.) So perhaps I'll see the BulletBoys yet again, if this tour comes to town.
If it does, I'll go out of my way to introduce myself to Rob, and then hope it was really him who commented on my blog.
I have to think it's legitimate. I know a lot of people like to screw around on the Internet, but nobody can be so bored that he'd impersonate a replacement BulletBoy. Not even me.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Impatient fag (unedited)
Today I was told I am an "impatient fag."
I set out to bike, on a sunny, breezy Sunday afternoon. I was using my typical bike trails, and plenty of other people were, too. I expected that.
I was in perhaps my third mile when the trail I was using winds through a park. There are plenty of people using the park, and I expect it to be a bit slow going through this area at times.
I came behind a couple of people riding single file. We were about to go slightly downhill. This duo, presumably husband and wife, were probably in the upper 50s or lower 60s. I was going to pass them as we were going to go down the hill, so I announced "on the left" as I was getting ready to pass. That's a common thing you do when biking, sometimes out of courtesy, sometimes out of necessity. Sometimes I don't announce my pass, and sometimes I just say left.
I announced a pass, but realized that it would be a bit tight, as others were coming from the opposite way, so I sat behind the dude immediately ahead of me, slowed down a bit and waited patiently, I thought, for a clear opportunity to pull around.
I heard the woman ahead of him asking a question. I didn't hear the question, but he said something along the lines of, "You're fine, it's just an impatient fag behind me."
So when I had a chance to finally pass clearly a few seconds later, I said something like, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."
He quickly responded with his fag comment again. I quickly responded with a "thanks homo" type response.
I swear his response was, "You want to stop right now and find out?"
Find out what? If I'm gay? What was he going to do, pull his pants down and see how I responded?
I think the guy was trying to suggest he wanted to fight. This fat tub of goo was like the belligerent drunk. He was angry at the world and wanted to fight anybody, over anything. And why was he pissed at me? Because I announced I was going to pass, but didn't because of oncoming bikers.
I should have stopped at the cross street. There was a softball game going and tons of people. I'd love to see what he would have done. And I'd love to hear his explanation for why I was a impatient fag.
I felt bad for the woman ahead of him. She tried to say something to me along the lines of "please just keep going and ignore him." I felt bad for her. I've been in that spot. I've been with somebody who wants to shoot his/her mouth off, seemingly unprovoked. You just want the other person to ignore the stupidity and move on. If she's married to this jackass, I can't imagine how she can tolerate him if he's prone to such ridiculousness, for no reason whatsoever.
As I was passing her by, I said something about how I thought my life was miserable, but he takes the case. He continued to rant about stopping or something like that and I heard her telling him something along the lines of having had enough of him and wanting to end the bike ride.
I just don't get it.
As I crossed the road and continued down the trail, the ridiculousness of his comments cracked me up. It was just so damn stupid. I started laughing, and laughing, and laughing. I was laughing rather loudly as I slowly biked along the trail. It was that stupid. As I slowly rolled down, I looked back down the trail, and there he was, slowly plodding along. I could see him gesturing somehow. I'm not sure if he was trying to waive me back, so he could find out if I was a fag, was waving his fist at me or was waving his middle finger. I carried on, rather amused by the episode.
If my life ever gets that miserable, seriously, I promise I'll commit suicide.
I set out to bike, on a sunny, breezy Sunday afternoon. I was using my typical bike trails, and plenty of other people were, too. I expected that.
I was in perhaps my third mile when the trail I was using winds through a park. There are plenty of people using the park, and I expect it to be a bit slow going through this area at times.
I came behind a couple of people riding single file. We were about to go slightly downhill. This duo, presumably husband and wife, were probably in the upper 50s or lower 60s. I was going to pass them as we were going to go down the hill, so I announced "on the left" as I was getting ready to pass. That's a common thing you do when biking, sometimes out of courtesy, sometimes out of necessity. Sometimes I don't announce my pass, and sometimes I just say left.
I announced a pass, but realized that it would be a bit tight, as others were coming from the opposite way, so I sat behind the dude immediately ahead of me, slowed down a bit and waited patiently, I thought, for a clear opportunity to pull around.
I heard the woman ahead of him asking a question. I didn't hear the question, but he said something along the lines of, "You're fine, it's just an impatient fag behind me."
So when I had a chance to finally pass clearly a few seconds later, I said something like, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."
He quickly responded with his fag comment again. I quickly responded with a "thanks homo" type response.
I swear his response was, "You want to stop right now and find out?"
Find out what? If I'm gay? What was he going to do, pull his pants down and see how I responded?
I think the guy was trying to suggest he wanted to fight. This fat tub of goo was like the belligerent drunk. He was angry at the world and wanted to fight anybody, over anything. And why was he pissed at me? Because I announced I was going to pass, but didn't because of oncoming bikers.
I should have stopped at the cross street. There was a softball game going and tons of people. I'd love to see what he would have done. And I'd love to hear his explanation for why I was a impatient fag.
I felt bad for the woman ahead of him. She tried to say something to me along the lines of "please just keep going and ignore him." I felt bad for her. I've been in that spot. I've been with somebody who wants to shoot his/her mouth off, seemingly unprovoked. You just want the other person to ignore the stupidity and move on. If she's married to this jackass, I can't imagine how she can tolerate him if he's prone to such ridiculousness, for no reason whatsoever.
As I was passing her by, I said something about how I thought my life was miserable, but he takes the case. He continued to rant about stopping or something like that and I heard her telling him something along the lines of having had enough of him and wanting to end the bike ride.
I just don't get it.
As I crossed the road and continued down the trail, the ridiculousness of his comments cracked me up. It was just so damn stupid. I started laughing, and laughing, and laughing. I was laughing rather loudly as I slowly biked along the trail. It was that stupid. As I slowly rolled down, I looked back down the trail, and there he was, slowly plodding along. I could see him gesturing somehow. I'm not sure if he was trying to waive me back, so he could find out if I was a fag, was waving his fist at me or was waving his middle finger. I carried on, rather amused by the episode.
If my life ever gets that miserable, seriously, I promise I'll commit suicide.
Monday, May 25, 2009
You're not that important (unedited)
It's a sad world we live in.
I get it, when you get a new toy, you want to play with it. As mobile phone proliferated, people were anxious to play with their new toy.
And as technology improved, people began using phones as cameras, Internet browsers and e-mail devices, via the popular, highly pointless text messaging service.
Sadly our dependence upon mobile phones has gone from novelty to necessity. It wasn't that many years ago that we lived without constant contact/updates from anyone and everyone, but we're a society of self-importance now. If we don't have people texting us every five minutes, our lives aren't that important. Now people can mass text their friends and random fans via Twitter. There's a time and place for texting and Twitter. Sadly too many people create times and places because they lack legitimate ones.
We've all seen millions of examples of the ridiculousness created by mobile phones. And it's probably too late to turn back. We've become a society of self-important nobodies. It really shouldn't be surprising. It's just another turn in the evolution of this toilet earth.
I get it, when you get a new toy, you want to play with it. As mobile phone proliferated, people were anxious to play with their new toy.
And as technology improved, people began using phones as cameras, Internet browsers and e-mail devices, via the popular, highly pointless text messaging service.
Sadly our dependence upon mobile phones has gone from novelty to necessity. It wasn't that many years ago that we lived without constant contact/updates from anyone and everyone, but we're a society of self-importance now. If we don't have people texting us every five minutes, our lives aren't that important. Now people can mass text their friends and random fans via Twitter. There's a time and place for texting and Twitter. Sadly too many people create times and places because they lack legitimate ones.
We've all seen millions of examples of the ridiculousness created by mobile phones. And it's probably too late to turn back. We've become a society of self-important nobodies. It really shouldn't be surprising. It's just another turn in the evolution of this toilet earth.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
36. 36 posts in 40 nights (unedited)
I made 90 percent of the goal, and that ain't bad when it comes to blogging.
I struggled for ideas at times, I failed to write about the one topic I had been avoiding when I started 40 nights ago and my final week wound up chronicling the aftermath of a disappointing week that wasn't my fault.
I found inspiration in unlikely places, chronicled silly moments in my life that may otherwise never have found themselves in print and wrote too many personal reflections. Such is life.
Thursday night I'm going to be busy preparing for my Friday morning departure...it's the 20th annual spring camping extravaganza. Unless I witness something amazing, tomorrow is the first of at least three nights off.
I'm not sure to make a habit of forcibly writing blogs one night after another, but there was some value to doing so, and perhaps I will try this experiment again. Just not any time soon.
I struggled for ideas at times, I failed to write about the one topic I had been avoiding when I started 40 nights ago and my final week wound up chronicling the aftermath of a disappointing week that wasn't my fault.
I found inspiration in unlikely places, chronicled silly moments in my life that may otherwise never have found themselves in print and wrote too many personal reflections. Such is life.
Thursday night I'm going to be busy preparing for my Friday morning departure...it's the 20th annual spring camping extravaganza. Unless I witness something amazing, tomorrow is the first of at least three nights off.
I'm not sure to make a habit of forcibly writing blogs one night after another, but there was some value to doing so, and perhaps I will try this experiment again. Just not any time soon.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
35. Turn down the heat (unedited)
The Twin Cities shattered its record high temperature today. Last I heard, the high temperature was expected to be in the low 80s Tuesday.
The record high was something like 89 degrees. Today it hit 97. It was the first time it has been this hot since July 2007. And it's not even June.
Weather extremes are funny things. It's so rare to get this hot, then it happens on a date when the Twin Cities have never hit 90 degrees. I was in the office all afternoon, so I had no idea how hot it was. When somebody mentioned it early this evening, I didn't believe it.
Stranger yet, it hit 100 degrees in southern Minnesota this afternoon. At the same time, it was more than 60 degrees cooler in northern Minnesota. It's not unusual to see wide variances in the weather from north to south. And sometimes it's the opposite of what you'd expect. It's not that ridiculous for it to be warmer at the Canadian border than it is at the Iowa border. But typically that's not the case, and I don't think a variance of more than 60 degrees happens very often. Today was doubly odd in Minnesota.
Well, at least it wasn't humid. I went for my beginning-of-season bike ride about an hour before sunset. It was warm, but not typical of hot days in Minnesota. There's rarely dry heat in this state. When it gets hot, it gets humid. Today was the exception to that rule.
Too bad it was so damn windy. And of course the wind had to be blowing against me during the final miles of my daily loop, not during the opening miles. Such is life.
I may not remember the details distinctly, but Tuesday was one of those highly atypical days I won't forget any time soon. And I'd appreciate not repeating it any time soon. Although compared to an average day four months ago, I have no business complaining.
The record high was something like 89 degrees. Today it hit 97. It was the first time it has been this hot since July 2007. And it's not even June.
Weather extremes are funny things. It's so rare to get this hot, then it happens on a date when the Twin Cities have never hit 90 degrees. I was in the office all afternoon, so I had no idea how hot it was. When somebody mentioned it early this evening, I didn't believe it.
Stranger yet, it hit 100 degrees in southern Minnesota this afternoon. At the same time, it was more than 60 degrees cooler in northern Minnesota. It's not unusual to see wide variances in the weather from north to south. And sometimes it's the opposite of what you'd expect. It's not that ridiculous for it to be warmer at the Canadian border than it is at the Iowa border. But typically that's not the case, and I don't think a variance of more than 60 degrees happens very often. Today was doubly odd in Minnesota.
Well, at least it wasn't humid. I went for my beginning-of-season bike ride about an hour before sunset. It was warm, but not typical of hot days in Minnesota. There's rarely dry heat in this state. When it gets hot, it gets humid. Today was the exception to that rule.
Too bad it was so damn windy. And of course the wind had to be blowing against me during the final miles of my daily loop, not during the opening miles. Such is life.
I may not remember the details distinctly, but Tuesday was one of those highly atypical days I won't forget any time soon. And I'd appreciate not repeating it any time soon. Although compared to an average day four months ago, I have no business complaining.
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