Today is Tuesday, which (as I touched on before) means two things: the time for me to get a weekday ride in and for rain to descend upon Michiganderburgh. Oh Tuesday, I might hate you. Actually, I KNOW I hate you. Stupid non-feeling, rainy ass day.
I wasn’t even up long enough to take the first of my normal two to five coffee induced “movements” before it started raining. As I walked off towards the throne room in search of colonic relief and a fresh roll of toilet paper I found myself muttering and cussing to myself about the “Tuesday Curse.”
I sat reading an old issue of Rouler, and figured once done with the business at hand, I would make some comfort food for breakfast (Soiled Hash Browns), drink more coffee, get some work done around the house and check the weather radar on the Net before I committed to not riding.
Over the next couple of hours, the rain had stopped and from the looks of the radar, it seemed that I should be able to get a couple of hours of riding in without getting TOO wet. So, I kitted up and took off.
Sadly, I wasn’t all that far into the ride when I looked over my shoulder and saw that things were starting to go pear-shaped (see above photo). Still, I rode on, hoping for some good luck to come my way. It didn’t; just rain.
Every so often there would brief glimmers of sunshine that would spawn fleeting hopes that I wouldn’t get caught in a storm. I have no problem with some drizzle, but I have nor real desire to be riding my bike in flat, open, farmland during a heavy thunderstorm.
Ten or twelve miles into the ride, I decided to abort and head back towards town. I peeled off the slower, muddy dirt and gravel and took the shit paved roads (see below) back, thinking that I could outride the storm. Instead I rode shit paved roads right INTO the storm.
I slowed down, pulled over, snapped the pic above and stuffed my camera in a Ziploc bag to keep in safe. Then just as I turned on my tiny rear blinky (so as not to become a hood ornament on an ’82 LaBaron), the rain started. First as a slow drizzle, then in a complete fucking downpour. In no time at all I was drenched, and rolling right into it. Sigh…. at least I had my rear fender on the El Mariachi (please note sarcasm).
I was disappointed to once again fall victim to the Tuesday Curse, and even more disappointed to have been completely and utterly drenched by the heavy rain, but on the bright side, I DID get out for a short twenty mile ride, it never “stormed,” and I did have a bit a fun despite “the curse.”
On a final note, I am aware that A. I might be the only cyclist on the earth writing about and taking photos of a twenty mile ride. B. No one should be writing about a twenty mile ride and C. I can’t imagine that anyone cares about said twenty mile ride. The way I figure, if I didn’t write SOMETHING to go along with my crap snap shots, they would just be crap snap shots. I am also aware of the all important D. No one is forcing anyone to read or look at this blog, so if anyone finds it lame, that is their problem and they can vent their snarkyness on some other social media outlet.