Droplets

Even the steadiest downpour has some nuance.

On my ride today from Bothell to the U-District, which easily qualifies as my wettest ride of the season, the rain never stopped, but it did seem to let up from time to time.

But that could have been just during the climbs, when I hit fewer raindrops by going slower. Come to think of it, all of the times when it seemed the rain was falling hardest were times I was heading downhill.

So, I dunno

What I am sure of though, is that it really wasn’t so bad, at least when I was all geared up with plastic pants and shoe covers.

In fact, I got more soaked, after I’d taken my gear off to enjoy a cup of coffee in my old graduate school favorite, Parnassus coffee shop, riding from the Art Building (in whose basement Parnassus resides) to Savery Hall (where my afternoon class takes place)—a distance of maybe 200 yards—than I did in the 14 or so miles from Cascadia to the UW.

My only real complaint is that it wasn’t 10 degrees colder so all this would be snow; we’d probably have three feet on the ground now and the Thanksgiving break would already have started.

I guess I could also lodge my standard objection to wet gloves, too; although I planned ahead for a change and brought an extra pair, so I didn’t have to don the soaking ones after my UW class for the ride home.

So, all in all, a reasonably comfortable pedal through what some wags are calling the “Rainpocalypse.” Of course, I’ll be sick of the wet soon enough if it keeps up; at this point, though, I’m still finding it sort of amusing given our fairly dry November so far.

In my mind, December’s when it gets really shitty; sideways rain, days that get dark by 3:30; and worst of all, gloves that smell of cheese.