Everybody (in Yuma) knows it’s windy

I feel obligated to write something now that Chris has honored me with an administrator position to this esteemed literary establishment. I don’t have much for now, but trust me, you will get an interesting and most likely long-winded account of my short trip to Mexico on Tuesday at some point. As for now I leave you this nugget about weather in Yuma, Az.

While the Southwest region has an amazing climate there isn’t much to complain about – as no one can argue with temperatures in the mid 70s in January – but here is one thing that blows my mind. We have wind here like nobodies’ business. It usually isn’t too out of control, but as of lately the Yuma area has been getting hit by constant gusts of wind in the 30-40 mph range. If this doesn’t seem to odd for you perhaps you should try to pedal a bicycle through these winds at 11:45 at night. As I clocked out for the night at The Sun I could hear the wind whipping around the building and dreaded the mile and a half ride back to my apartment. Then I stepped outside and it hit me, literally. The wind blew the hat off my head almost immediately and I could see how this trip home was going to be. I already thought the gusts were strong, but once I pedaled my bike to the parking area I got a taste of how powerful they really were.

I started north (the direction the wind was coming from) and regretted my decision ASAP. I only had a block and a half to go before I could turn left on 19th St. and not have to pedal directly into wind, so I manned up and fought the gusts. This part was the worst of the trip as it took all of my energy to fight the wind which could have blown me backwards. Now if you’ve never tried to brave 40 mph winds I imagine it’d be the equivalent to running on a treadmill with the knob turned all the way to “get ready to have your ass handed to yourself” setting. I wouldn’t know as I’ve never wasted my time on a treadmill. If I am going to walk, I think the Earth’s surface will suffice.

I burned up almost all of my energy getting to 19th. Once there the trip did not get any easier. I wanted to get home quickly, but the faster I pedaled the harsher the wind got. I pushed on and dodged the random cardboard boxes, empty pop bottles and other debris that flew in front of my path and simultaneously mirrored a sound I’d equate with someone chasing me in attempts to rob and or kill me. While I did avoid any muggings and drive-bys I eventually made it back to my apartment complex with a mouthful of sand and grit (for those of you that are unaware, Arizona doesn’t really have grass so all the ground is either sand or pavement). Despite my constant spitting I couldn’t get the taste of sand out my mouth until I downed a Gatorade. A few minutes later I found it difficult to breath from all the sand I had ingested and had a small coughing fit. At this moment I felt glad that I am not a smoker as this must be what it feels like to them all the time. I had some slight wheezing, but my coughing soon subsided and I was able to get back to normal breathing. A couple of chicken sandwiches later and I looked back at my survival experience. At the end of the day, I guess I’d take the wind any day before the rain.