Cycling has been my way of exploring every place I’ve called home — and plenty I’ve only passed through. In the Netherlands, it meant two wheels through tulip fields, windmill-dotted canals, and brick streets, learning the rhythm of the country and how to embrace rain without breaking stride. In Santa Barbara, it was ocean on one side, mountains on the other — sunrise climbs into the Santa Ynez range and headwind battles along the Pacific. LA County offered a different kind of adventure, weaving between city streets, hidden bike paths, and foothill climbs, once with an escort of eight eighteen-wheelers.

I’ve lined up three times for Colorado’s Triple Bypass — 120 miles, three mountain passes, and over 10,000 feet of climbing — a test of lungs, legs, and alpine air, balanced by the joy of descending the other side. I first got hooked thanks to my PhD advisor, Mario; what began as a friendly ride turned into a shared obsession that’s carried me tens of thousands of miles. From desert highways to alpine switchbacks, solo centuries to the weeklong RAGBRAI groups, every ride builds its own understanding — sometimes about science, sometimes about people, and sometimes just about tegenwindfietsen: cycling into the wind.