Ferociously fearsome and bone chillingly cold wind, mostly on the nose, while circling clockwise on my regular rural route. Occasionally, pedaling hard in low gear, I found myself going backward (or so it seemed). About halfway home it became clear that a mistake had been made. But…

Persistent perseverance seemed better than turning tail, and so, as a result, at the end of an hour, the bike and I closed the loop—and none too soon, in fact, since we pulled into the garage just as the first fat, frigid drops came splattering sideways.