I've been blown ashore, so to speak.
In May 2010 I was heading west on US-64 in northern New Mexico, and I encountered all sorts of weather, including snow. Yup, snow, in May, in a state bordering Mexico. I was uneasy about the weather to the west.
With good reason. When I entered Arizona, it was as if I had entered another continent, not just another state. The wind yanked the bike around as if it was a toy. I never was blown out of my lane, but I was not able to keep to any part of the lane. I rode about ten miles this way, then decided the trip was canceled. I rode back into New Mexico, then south from Shiprock to Gallup, and thence home to Florida.
Hence I did not enter Nevada, in which a semi-trailer was toppled by the wind, and the Cadillac of a friend of mine was blown from lane to lane at the will of the wind and not the driver.
That was the worst wind I experienced since January 1964, when a blizzard
blew my 305 and me off the Queen Elizabeth Way south of Hamilton Ontario.
Wind 2, Keith 0. But I am still here.