Crashing waves. Howling winds. Seagulls. Had I gone to sleep in Chicago and woken up in North Carolina on the eve of a hurricane? Nope. Just another morning commute in the windy city.
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Chicago could be many things – the laid back city, the deep dish pizza city, the pothole city, the small live music venue city, the Obama city – but the windy city is as accurate a nickname as any.
What does this mean for most residents? Not much, other than messy hair walking from the el/car/bus to the building. What does this mean for Chicago cyclists? #%!&*#@! Not every day, but certainly days like yesterday, with sustained blowing winds of around 20 mph from the south. The wind made me work several times harder than usual, while going about 5 mph. Sometimes I imagine that I’ve become a zen cyclist, happy to go as fast or slow on my oma as nature intends.
Then I wake up. And it’s windy out.