Biking and Rain

Hello,

I rode my bike 12 miles to work on a weekday which I have never done. I left home in spite of the threatening clouds. The forecast was for rain after I would get to the library. I should be spared getting wet. The rain, supposedly, would be done so that I could travel home with a group from church. This group was meeting on the edge of my city and traveling down on that great bike trail that I use to get to work.

I headed off on my bike with a change of clothes, lunch, and enough snacks to fortify my ride home packed in my bag. About two miles from home the clouds looked worse, but I still kept going hoping those weather people have a grasp of reality. I rode past a place on the trail that had obviously been rained on just a short time before my arrival. About three miles later there was another mile segment that had been rained on just ahead of my presence. Up front, the clouds were starting to look quite dark. I felt tired but did not dare slack off the pace if I wanted to miss the rain. It was wonderful to get to the library without having rain fall on me.

Probably about an hour after I got there someone reported that it was starting to rain. I put my bike in the storage room along with various other items. That place is always so full of this and that. I was forced to move a few things to make my bike fit.

As the day went on the rain came and went with a certain amount of regularity. My heart would lurch to see it falling and then perk up again when it quit. About an hour before I expected to leave, Leroy called to say that he was the only person at the bike ride meeting point. It had rained on him two separate times in that three mile trip. After some discussion he decided to bike home in the light rain, get in the car, and rescue me.

It was still raining a bit when he arrived to take me home. I was relieved to see him. We never would have made it home dry in any sense. Also it was so dark at that point that it would not have been my ideal biking experience. Leroy has better bike lights than I do.

Paula