Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 15

There are many advantages to riding in an organized event: rest stops with food, water, and portable toilets, and SAG (support-and-gear) vehicles that can save your day. As I thought about designing a suitable ride of my own for this year's Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge, I regrettably decided against attemping a 100-mile ride. Restrooms, food, and water are not reliably available; facilities in public parks, for example, are often shuttered. The possibility of being stranded far from home was intimidating in this era of social distancing.

I considered four 25-mile loops; my home would, of course, be a fine rest stop. But that wasn't very exciting. A friend thought I might Everest and offered to support me. That was flattering, but . . . no.  And so I hatched this idea to bike on 15 consecutive days, which would beat my previous personal best (9 days).

Hazardous air quality interrupted my ride series; I managed three stretches of consecutive days: 5-4-5. I had reached out to former teammates to join me for some rides, but unpredictable conditions made planning infeasible. I wanted the final stage to be significant, but not wanting to delay it indefinitely I settled for a modest route through a part of the Bay Area blessed today with a temporary respite from wildfire smoke.

On a Sunday morning, this route was particularly traffic-free. The cycling infrastructure has been improved, including a lovely bit of green bike lane at an intersection I generally avoided after being bumped by an inattentive driver. Good to know, but it will be quite some time before I might bike to the office again.

 

I'd brought some snacks to refuel, but as I puttered along I had a better idea. Sugar. Butter. Flour. Might that bakery be open? [Yes!] After all, completing my Challenge called for some celebration. A too-rich, decadent chocolate truffle cake was my lunch.

By adding a few hills, I climbed 1,225 feet over 42 miles. On my road bike, there was no excuse not to tackle the climb to the water treatment plant. I felt strong heading up the hill, why did I think this would be so hard? Then the final punishing stretch came into view. Photos never quite convey steepness, but in this view from the top notice how the road seems to disappear.

I had saved one more special treat for this day: my last Mango Tango.

And thus concludes my Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: 15 stages, 370 miles, and 13,272 feet of climbing.

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 14

This is the view I was aiming for last night: Stevens Creek Reservoir. But it was not my first choice for today's destination.

I very much wanted to bike up Mt. Hamilton. Blue skies to the west and smoky skies to the east meant a change in direction was advised.

It looks like my hair was slicked back in 2019, but that was the work of the wind. The views last year were spectacular; will we have a chance to ride down the coast together, again? I do hope so.

I wanted to push myself, today. My chief ride buddy was game for some climbing, after enjoying the cool shade of Stevens Canyon. We chatted with a friendly solo cyclist, who decided to tackle the additional climbing we planned. Riding alongside me, I was momentarily puzzled when he asked if I liked Keith Haring. Ah, I explained, he designed the Best Buddies logo (featured on the back of my jersey).

Waiting for my bike buddy before making a turn, a Tesla blinked its headlights at me, a signal (I'm guessing) that I was standing too close. [Whatever.] A passing car was driving sooooo slowly that I turned to look at the driver, wondering if he was unsure whether I might move into his lane. [Ha. No.] He wasn't looking at me. Nor was he looking at the road. His head was tilted down, his attention focused entirely on his cellphone with the backs of both hands resting on the center of the steering wheel. He was texting. At least five cars were stacked up behind him, and no one honked.

Behold, sadly, my last Strawberry C Monster. [Odwalla is no more, at the whim of its corporate overlords.] After refueling, I set out again. I had a pair of climbs in mind, but ... on a full stomach? [Not usually a good idea.] The day was heating up; if I started out flat, I would bake in the sun on a long flat finish during the hottest part of the day. I decided to climb slowly, and that turned out just fine.

My most ambitious stage of this Challenge: 52 miles, 3,280 feet of climbing. Just one more stage to wrap up this series: Stage 15, for 2020.

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 13

The Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge celebrated its 15th year in 2018, and it was the only year I opted for the 60-mile route instead of 100. It was another year for the alternate route, as Highway 1 remained closed throughout the planning process. It was just too hot that day for me to complete a century on that route (at my pathetic pace), but I enjoyed the chance to explore some different roads anyway.

I had a destination in mind for tonight's stage, but had I done the math I would have realized there wouldn't be enough daylight. When I turned back, I decided to follow a different route—no overlap with my outbound route.

The local sensors were reporting clean air, but the hills were hazy and I started out coughing. I could see smoke beginning to filter in; I opted to keep the ride flat to minimize exertion (despite averaging 12.8 mph—road bike vs. commute bike).

Somehow, I managed the same elevation gain as last night: 460 feet, over 20 miles. I couldn't have pulled that off if I'd tried to plan it!

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 12

Late afternoon meetings meant a late start for tonight's stage. I also came up short on ideas for where I might ride. I decided to head toward a park I'd never visited, in a neighborhood where I could meander randomly through the streets. Most of which, as it turned out, had names starting with “Bel.” The park was more suited to hiking than biking, so I found myself racing the sunset to a suitable scenic location for my Stage 12 photo.

At bicycle speed, you notice things. Neighborhoods where the theme is women's names, or poets, or colleges. Sometimes they progress, helpfully, in alphabetical order. When a subdivision is laid out, who gets to name the streets? It can be pretty informal, as it turns out. My mom worked for a civil engineering firm for many years; one day the boss asked “What is your granddaughter's name?” And thus a new street found its name.

Road damage from winter's heavy rains had closed Highway 1 when I earned this jersey in 2017. I missed riding south along the coast, but the alternate route gave us the opportunity to explore unfamiliar territory (and, a very steep climb).

Tonight I climbed rather higher than I'd expected and was surprised to pop out partway up a hill that I know is quite steep. I was briefly tempted to turn onto the upper climb—the next block or so would have been doable (on my heavy commute bike). [But, I didn't.]

Whatever the distance, whatever the elevation gain, my evening rides seem to be consistently hovering around 90 minutes. Tonight, I climbed 460 feet over 15 miles, at a respectable 11 mph.

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 11

Wow, look at that view! We can see the hills of the Diablo Range clearly again!

An alternate title for tonight's stage would be “The Hummus Guy.” At the end of last week, I found myself in a serious food funk. After more than six months of my largely repetitive, go-to recipes, I had no idea what to eat. I was tired of it all—even, strawberries. I skipped my visit to the weekly farmers' market.

I got over it. And missed the berries. Then I remembered that my preferred strawberry vendor has a booth at a farmers' market in a nearby town on Wednesday afternoons. Bonus: it's a smaller site, likely to be less crowded; but without a basket on my bike, I couldn't stock up fully. Still, some is better than none.

As I surveyed the rest of the booths, rolling my bike alongside me, the hummus guy called out to me. “Hey, you must eat healthy, you ride your bike!” I smiled, which (of course) he couldn't see behind my bandana-shrouded face. A few minutes later, as I was eyeing some peaches (surely I could fit a bit more in my bike bag, it expands), the hummus guy appeared—holding out a container. “Here,” he insisted. “You probably eat hummus, right?” Well, yes ... “You like red peppers?” Well, yes ... “Enjoy!” [And I did, it was yummy on the sourdough I had with my latest batch of lentil soup tonight.]

A few pounds of produce didn't really slow me down, either. [Tomatoes, strawberries, peaches, hummus.] Given that I've shed a few pounds over the past few months, I supposed it evened out.

2016 was the tenth year I biked 100 miles down the coast in the Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge, and my all-time favorite bike kit design. I've had random cyclists admire this kit, on the road. [It's the carbon-fiber pattern, no doubt.]

Today's route was challenging in a different way, though it was a measly 16 miles and 320 feet of climbing. It reminded me of the first trail ride I did, on a stubborn horse that just wanted to go back to the paddock; he only cooperated when we reached the half-way point—he knew the shortest way home, then, was to go forward. And so it was with this old gray mare, tonight—commuting away from home, in the evening, was a struggle.

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 10

As you've seen by now, I'm not very creative when it comes to posing for photos. At the Best Buddies finish line in San Simeon in 2015, I had some coaching.

When I mentioned last week that I was limited to after-work rides, I know what you were thinking: Morning rides. [Duh.] Sadly, I am not a Morning Person.

Most [un]fortunately, I woke up at some ridiculous hour today (like, 2:45 a.m.) and was Alert. Awake. Tried all the tricks: relax all muscles, take slow deep breaths. Nada. I pretended I was asleep until a more hospitable hour (like, 5:00 a.m.). Plenty of time for a morning ride, once we had some daylight. My first meeting wasn't till 9:30 a.m. And the air was . . . clean?!

It's Bike to Work Week in the Bay Area (re-scheduled from its traditional May date). So I decided to bike to work. But wait, you're thinking: You're still working from home. [Right you are!] I set off on my normal commute route, at the normal time. I pictured where I would make the turn to finish the trip at my current workplace. [Aka, home.]

But then I thought, why not go a bit farther? Make the turn at the 45-minute mark, have enough time for a suitable photo, and still get home in time to get cleaned up before my meeting.

Ah, but wouldn't it be fitting to bike even farther, technically into the town where my lonely desk sits in a deserted office building. After all, I could attend the meeting in my sweaty bike kit; that would make no difference to my remote colleagues. [And, truth be told, in days gone by I have attended a meeting at the office in my cycling attire. At least once.]

Ride highlight #1: A red-shouldered hawk at eye level, perched on a fence! Ride highlight #2: Posing with a cyclist on a penny farthing. [They're already setting up the holiday lights in the local park.] Lowlight: Testing my panic-stop skills when an utterly clueless cyclist cut me off.

At a brisk (for me) pace of 12.9 mph, I covered 25 miles with 680 feet of climbing (rather more than the regular tally for my morning commute). And I had just enough time to enjoy a second cup of tea and a scone before connecting with my colleagues.

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 9

Best Buddies celebrated 25 years in 2014, and I followed my west coast century in September with an east coast century in October. Given the chillier weather (and a memorable mishap), evidently I didn't get a photo featuring the jersey that day. But there I am at the start, with the Washington Monument in the background. My vest, arm warmers, and knee warmers from the September event were just what I needed in D.C.

Eager to ride—anywhere—my chief biking buddy suggested we revisit the neighborhood we explored on my first foray of the pandemic era. With more temperate weather, I expected we could make it to Almaden Reservoir this time.

My plan was to turn back at Hicks Road (not ready to climb that beast, today); but I was curious to know where Alamitos Road actually ended. I was emboldened after watching another woman continue past Hicks, and my ride buddy agreed to explore. When we caught up to her, I'm afraid I startled that woman when I asked how far the road went. “About a mile,” she assured us; a nice ride up the canyon before the pavement would give way to dirt. Although she (and a few others) plowed on ahead, we turned around at an “Authorized Personnel Only” sign.

An artist has been busy in the tiny community of New Almaden, where the posted speed limit is 25 mph. Want to bet they're having trouble with speeding drivers passing through . . . on their way to spin donuts on Hicks, perhaps? Distinctive red-white-and-black signs were everywhere.

“Let's walk onto the dam,” I suggested (having noticed that this was possible). We were surprised to find a plaque mounted there, informing us that the dam was constructed in 1935 and the reservoir holds up to 2000 acre feet of water. Most of the plaque was reserved for the names of the Board of Directors, along with the engineers and two attorneys.

We covered essentially the same distance as we did in May, but with less elevation gain (having skipped the prelude segment): 33 miles, 935 feet of climbing. We could see streaks of smoke in the distance; by the time we were done, the nearby hills were hazy and the aroma of wood smoke was creeping in. I sensed another pause was imminent for my Best Buddies 2020 Challenge.

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 8

Where should I ride tonight? That was the question. After-work neighborhood rides have proven more treacherous than I'd expected. The forecast suggests a smoky weekend. It's time for more of a workout.

There is a different sort of risk on the back roads, in the evening: deer. Three, tonight; looked like a doe with two youngsters. One scampered out of my lane and up the hillside, while the other two eyed me from the edge of the road. “Hi, sweetie,” I called out gently. “I'm not gonna bother you. Be careful!” They stood still. (I saw them again, on the way back.)

I haven't biked this route after work, alone, before. And I probably won't again. There were fewer cyclists than I'd hoped. And there were some sketchy-looking dudes hanging out, not far from one of the wider patches of road that attract circular skid marks. I kept an eye on my rear-view mirror and picked up my pace after I passed them. [Woman. Cycling. Alone.]

Today's stage celebrated my eighth century ride for Best Buddies.

I got the workout I needed (sore legs!), with an average heart rate of 140 bpm to climb 1,245 feet over 16 miles (10.9 mph). Unfortunately the air quality was deteriorating, leading to an unpleasant fit of coughing when I got home. Thus confirming my hunch, ’tis better not to cycle when the air quality is rated “moderate” (yellow).

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 7

2013 marked the 10th anniversary of the Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge, and the designer had some fun with the jersey—incorporating elements from past years. The fourth event was my first, and I never would have dreamed I'd keep coming back, year after year!

Hurray for another day of clean air in September 2020! Unlike the distant fog bank in 2013, you will see smoke—not fog—in the distance today.

I may not make it to the Pacific during this series, but I've been able to visit smaller bodies of water nearby. Club rides tend to skirt one edge of Almaden Lake; I decided to see if I could bike all the way around. [Yes!]

There were a fair number of other cyclists out tonight. I found myself sort of mixing it up with a small group of young teenaged boys, led by one who was slightly older. Coaching or instructing them, or maybe just herding them. One was riding a motorized skateboard. The driver who would have failed her road test tonight set us up for a right hook. Instead of merging to the right, behind us in the bike lane, to make her turn adjacent to the curb, she passed us and then . . . stopped. [Think, people. If there is a car in the lane to your right, would you line up to the left to make a right turn?]

I stopped behind the car, since there wasn't enough room to pull around and pass her on the left. She didn't budge, which was the right call because the kids and their leader came along and passed on the right. [Unsafe. They should have stopped, as I did, and waited for her to turn.]

Trying to stay ahead of the boys, I was motivated to pick up my pace: I averaged 12.1 mph over 18 miles, with 320 feet of climbing. [Flat.]

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 6

Conditions were spectacular for my sixth Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge.

When I designed my challenge for 2020, my plan was to ride every day, without any rest days, wearing my event jerseys in order (from my first ride in 2007, to the most recent ride in 2019). My original plan was to finish the series on September 12, which is when this year's event would have taken place.

Then came the storm, and the fires, and the smoke. The air quality was low and the temperatures were high. I delayed the start of the challenge by one week.

Stage 6 was planned for September 10. Despite the previous day's long ride, I was game.

Until I stepped outside. There was a dusting of fine ash on my trash bin, and the distinctive aroma of wood smoke in the air. Just like this headline: Yesterday the air quality looked bad, today it actually is bad. I kept an eye on the local sensor readings and hoped we'd get some wind from a favorable direction. The following day, conditions worsened.

No wind. Very unhealthy air. Thus began an unexpected, multi-day pause to my Best Buddies 2020 Challenge.

If this year's event had not already been canceled, it would have been thrown into disarray: Highway 1 was closed, from Big Sur to Ragged Point, due to the Dolan fire (burning since August 18). Of course, whether I can ride my bike on any given day is truly insignificant, in context.

Blue skies at last, though we still can't see the mountains through the haze. Back to work this week, my best option is an after-work ride. I puttered around some neighborhoods, coming to an abrupt full stop when one SUV driver suddenly stopped in the lane ahead of me, cut left (making a U-turn?), then straightened out and proceeded to back into his driveway. When he glanced to his left to find me (in the bike lane) staring him down, he looked surprised ... but also like he didn't particularly give a damn.

This is the view we couldn't see a few days ago (September 8). And yes, that is a thin stream of yellow-orange smoke above the ridge. Wrapped up Stage 6 with 14 miles, 220 feet of climbing, at a conservative 10.1 mph pace.

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 5

I thought I'd join a club ride today. [More vacation time, use it or lose it.] But after a very poor night's sleep, it seemed more like a better day for a short ride. Or at least a later start.

When the sun came up, the color of the light was shifting from yellow to orange. There were reports of ash falling from the sky like snowflakes, but that wasn't happening here. The sky was tinted in various shades of tan, lighter to the south. Local air quality was ... green? This smoke was drifting higher aloft from fires raging far to the north, and it wasn't penetrating the marine layer.

The jersey from my fifth Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge is great for hot days. Today was chilly. Unsure about the UV index for overcast skies due to ash rather than water vapor, I slathered on some sunscreen.

Sunglasses, however, would not be needed today. In the dusky light, all sorts of automatic sensors flipped bulbs on: car headlights, streetlights, even lighting I'd never before seen on a majestic bike bridge.

I mapped out a route to the Bay; if I sensed the air quality deteriorating, I could shorten it or even turn back. The amusement park, of course, is closed.

I wanted to see what could be seen. [Not much, as it turned out.] I pictured myself enjoying my sandwich on a bench along the shoreline, but opted for an inland park instead. The [lack of a] view and the unnatural colors were too distressing.

Stage 5: Passed the century mark for my 2020 Challenge with today's 44 miles, 820 feet of climbing (average speed 10.5 mph). Still keepin' it slow.

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 4

The jersey design for my fourth Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge, planet Earth with wings and butterfly-inspired hearts, seems a fitting choice for today.

No fog. No blue sky. This is not turning out to be the challenge I had in mind. [This year is not the year any of us had in mind.] I'm in the yellow “moderate” zone; red is “unhealthy,” brown is “hazardous.”

That orange spot glowing in the water behind the mallards is a reflection of the sun, casting a bronze gloom over us all.

I slowly puttered around, crossing above two different highways on bike/pedestrian bridges. One familiar, one less so (and which would have been useful during a different exploration a few months ago). Bike through random neighborhoods, see new sights, learn new routes.

Stage 4: 14 miles, 340 feet of climbing, average speed 9.7 mph. I found a steep little hill tucked in one neighborhood, but the top will wait for another day. No exertion for me, even with moderate air quality (average heart rate: 98 bpm). I had set out to cover at least 10 miles, and decided to roll around a bit more after I stopped recording my track.

The air purifier I'd ordered almost two weeks ago arrived. Finally.

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 3

There was a distinctly yellow cast to the light when I woke up, so I wasn't surprised when I checked the air quality map. Smoke affects the wavelength of the sun's rays. Simply put, yellow means “not good,” orange means “pick another day,” and red means “don't even think about it.” Not unlike the colors on the map.

Local sensors painted a better picture than the official map. The sky was a pale blue, with the ubiquitous  purple haze of the smoke layer hanging just above ground level in every direction. I mapped out a meandering route through some unfamiliar residential neighborhoods, including a little bridge over a (completely dry) creek.

This jersey makes me smile. It makes other people smile (and wave), too. What's not to like about two cuddling teddy bears? [Well, I'll bet this design was not at all popular with the competitive male cyclists back in 2009.] After 2008's baggy “small,” I'd requested “extra small,” which was a good fit ... except for the sleeves. Toothpick arms needed. [Thee years, three different vendors.]

I was in prime shape for my third Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge, averaging 14.3 mph despite climbing almost 6,300 feet. Today I was feeling less than great, with a slight but lingering headache. Could it be that I was (somewhat) dehydrated? For short rides, I don't fuss with electrolytes, but I should have mixed some up for Saturday's ride; today I did, and it helped.

Stage 3: 14.2 miles, 300 feet of climbing, average speed 10.6 mph. [Trying not to inhale, much.]

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 2

On this very date, 12 years ago, I rode the Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge for the second time.

Not my favorite jersey. Baggy, despite being size “small.” And what you can't see is that the back is ... black. I see lots of cyclists wearing black jerseys and it mystifies me: it's not very visible on the road, and you absolutely cook in the sun. Maybe it's meant to be a fashion statement, but the result is that most of my Best Buddies jerseys are never seen: During cooler months I will layer a vest or jacket on top anyway; they hang in the closet during prime cycling season. (Unlike other cycling events, where you pin your number on the back of your jersey, they'd insisted we pin it on the front.)

Today would be hot, which meant that I needed to get an early enough start. I was surprised to see many other cyclists out and about. All of a similar mind, I suspect.

I paid a price for yesterday's ride. Not only had I been off the bike for three weeks; I hadn't been exercising regularly, either, due to the heat and wildfire smoke.

I studied the air quality map; it wasn't good, but it wasn't dangerous, either. I settled on a flat route and planned to take it easy, but still get home with enough time to visit our weekly farmers' market. Stage 2: 17 miles, 320 feet of climbing, average speed 10.7 mph. [Like I said, flat.]

The best way into town is on foot: no struggle to find parking, no worries about locking up a bike. But there was a small matter of a tree to deal with. The path was marked closed, but someone else had already broken through the pesky yellow “caution!” tape.

It was 93°F when I set out. Bad luck of the draw, I stood baking in the sun while one customer engaged the vendor in a leisurely conversation about their growing season and techniques, followed by a woman whose credit card didn't go through and then found some fault with the first pack of berries they presented to her. [Sigh.] My transaction took less than a minute. [Cash.]

When I got back home—90 minutes after I'd set out—I was stunned to see the temperature was now above 102°F. And I'd walked home in that? Carrying a basket full of produce? [The day was still heating up, of course; it would peak just shy of 108°F.]

Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Stage 1

Back in 2007, before I started this blog, I participated in the Best Buddies Hearst Castle Challenge for the first time. I didn't know what to expect. Mostly, it seemed like a handy way to cycle down the central California coast, from Carmel Valley to San Simeon. Impressed with the organization, I returned the following year. And the year after that. And ...

Fast forward to 2020, when this event (like so many others) cannot be held. By the time they made the decision, encouraging us to make up our own challenge, I was uncertain about fundraising. Could my appeal to donors rise above the chaos that is 2020? I thought about scaling back. Unsurprisingly, without an actual event, many folks decided to sit this year out. Those who did sign up have raised little money. Like other non-profits, Best Buddies runs these events to bring in needed cash to support their programs year round (and, to raise awareness).

Who am I? Not a fair-weather friend! The need doesn't stop just because we can't have a mass gathering of people riding our bicycles down the coast.

Then, I had an idea. Challenge accepted. I reached out to my donors, and they've graciously supported Best Buddies for me, again. I promised them I would do something worthy. Today marked the start of my challenge.

I made a late call on what today's ride would be; where would the wind send the wildfire smoke? I checked the air quality when I woke up, and confirmed the plan with my ride buddy. The redwoods beckon on a hot day; the area we enjoyed just three weeks ago was unscathed by the lightning that torched the forest just a few miles to the north. Stage 1 of my Best Buddies 2020 Challenge: Old Santa Cruz Highway to the end of Highland Way, and back.

As I expected, there was very little traffic on the route; beaches are closed, and mountain bikers who flock to the Soquel Demonstration Forest risk citations (also, closed). The road is narrow, and in increasingly wretched condition; there are a couple of construction zones, fighting to keep sections from collapsing into the canyon. A vintage red convertible (Mustang) hung back behind me, and just as the road opened up a bit and I sensed the driver would pull around to pass me, I saw a group of fast cyclists approaching.

I did what I normally do in this situation: I eased farther to the left, effectively leaving no room to pass, firmly extended my left arm straight out, palm back, and hoped the driver would react responsibly. Which is to say, stay behind me and keep to the right. [She did.] The cyclists were grateful; I received a chorus of thank-yous, and from a guy at the front, “Appreciate that!” When all was clear, I edged back to the right, leaving enough room for the driver to pass safely. As she did, she waved and called out “Thank you!” [That was a first.]

Sadly, there was a recent local case of a driver who chose to pass an uphill cyclist on a blind curve, fatally injuring an oncoming cyclist on his way down. Note to drivers: Don't do that. If you don't have a clear line of sight, don't pass. Really. On another ride, I've had a driver pull around me and nearly run head-on into another vehicle. Most drivers, though, get it and hang back when I stick my arm out.

At the end of Stage 1, I saw that I was so close to finishing on the three-hour mark. I dug deep, the final turn was in sight, seconds to spare ... and I had to hold up for an approaching car. The total duration of our outing, of course, was longer—we regrouped a couple of times in the shade, for snacks and conversation.

Stage 1: 30 miles, 2,345 feet of climbing, average speed, 10.1 mph (yes, I'm slow). High temperature this afternoon, at home: 101°F. The forecast for tomorrow: hotter.