Early to Bed

If this summer has taught me anything, it’s that bike riding and 90-degree temperatures don’t mix, at least for me. Twice I’ve done it and wished I hadn’t; think Benny Hill pedaling, the bike not moving. Yesterday, I tempted fate a third time. A howling wind may have been my salvation. I dropped Michele off at work in the West Loop and headed to the area in Hyde Park just north of the Museum of Science and Industry, where I can usually find parking. The weather was supposed to get bad by midafternoon, so that was my motivation to plow ahead on the lakefront trail. Wind at my back, I made great time. Ah, but the return trip was something else. I usually stop at Osterman Beach halfway, only I couldn’t because the sand was massing—and attacking—in clouds. At one point, I saw two garbage carts side-by-side tip over as if the Invisible Man (or Patrick Swayze in “Ghost”) was getting a little exercise. How could a wind gusting in my face over 40 mph be of any help, you ask? Basically, it blew a lot of the sweat off my body and kept me from overheating. This time when I got back to the car, I had energy enough to lift the Schwinn onto the bike carrier without having to wait for what seemed a humiliating eternity. The nice thing about being really tired at the end of a ride like this is there’s little temptation to watch the whole White Sox game in Oakland. Again, thank you TiVo. I fully expected the 4-1 lead I turned off to have turned into a 5-4 loss courtesy of some A’s walk-off, but No. Sox win, 6-3. And I wonder if I should get a light-weight bike for when the wind howls.