My ride home last night was wild. I rode to work despite rain in the forecast, as I often do. I got two offers from coworkers to for a ride home, which I appreciated, but politely declined. I don’t mind getting wet. I soon discovered that it was raining harder than I expected. It was really rather ridiculous. By the time I was 100 yards from the office, my pants were soaked and sticking to my legs. I was pelted with huge rain drops which stung as they hit my face. I felt alternating resistance as I passed over wet pavement and through deep puddles, watching the water part as my wheel cut through it, leaving a wake. I rode by a storm drain, but it was so full that water was flowing out of the drain and onto the road. Drainage ditches were saturated and full, gushing audibly.  The bike path had a stream running over it.

I wasn’t expecting such a thorough soaking, and even though it was a bit chilly, it felt good. There’s nothing like a cleansing rain — it’s both refreshing and humbling. My shoes sloshed when I got off the bike and started walking. I was saturated.

File under: Bicycling, Commuting, Rain, Spring
 
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