Did anyone mention wind?

Here is my first post about why I'm riding and here's where to donate to Water Life Hope.  If you've already given, thanks.  If you can think of anyone else who might give, don't be shy -- share the link.

This guy defined placid.

April 18: Weatherford to Oklahoma City, 62 miles.

There was a storm last night, including hail, a big Weather Channel topic.  We had spent a fair amount of time trying to find a sheltered place for Ed the bus.  No luck.  So as the storm approached we kept scanning the radar.  It literally bent around Weatherford.  If we had stayed in place in Sayre the storm was severe.  If we had gone farther towards Oklahoma City there might have been hail.  As it was we went out in the morning and the bus was pristine.  Perfect.

Steve and I started off across the parking lot, looking for the best place to start the route when two cyclists rode towards us across the parking lot across the street.  One of the guys was from Atlanta.  They were old high school buddies who decided to get reacquainted riding Route 66.  More small world stuff.  We chatted for a few minutes and they headed west towards the Santa Monica Pier while we rolled east.

Steve with the high school buddies.
Guess which one's from Atlanta?

As we moved east the wind pushed on us steadily from the north, running 20 - 25 MPH.  Sometimes my front wheel went forward under my direction, sometimes it went elsewhere.  We arrived at our meeting place with Carol a bit worn.  I refueled with that all-purpose substance, peanut butter,  slugged thick-brewed nuun and set forth with Carol.

The horse on the right is a Clydesdale.
Hooves like dinner plates.

Everything went reasonably well until the route turned north, and uphill.  The climb wasn't bad, but a headwind in the 20's is like having the schoolyard bully stiff-arm your helmet.   We moved up the hill in slow motion.  I had to stop a number of times when the wind took my front wheel.  Nearby cows watched with some measure of concern.  It just took forever.

Just past the top of the hill we turned, and got out of the headwind.  Steve waited with the bus at a truck stop.  He'd seen us struggling and thought we'd need a rest stop.  No kidding.  At that point I looked like a New Yorker cartoon in need of a caption.

The rest of the ride treated us to long-horned cows and other delights, but storm clouds gathered.  By the time Carol and I hit Oklahoma City it was bad enough to concern Steve, who has seen plenty of weather on bicycle tours.   He and Ed the bus scooped us up as lightning shot from cloud to cloud and the rain slanted down.  We had arrived.