Soaking Wet

A few hours ago, I was out on the roads when God frowned upon me and opened up the clouds.  My glasses were useless after a few minutes, so I tossed them in the saddle bag, and instead of heading back home like a fellow with common sense, I continued on with my intended route.

Dark clothes.  No lights.  Rear reflector gone.  This should be interesting.  These are the things I think about only when I need them.  I never said I was the most sensible person, did I?

Actually, I had no problems.  I found most drivers actually slowed down and moved to the left.  Maybe it’s because it’s a Saturday and no one is in a hurry to get back into the day to day routine of work.  Maybe they are afraid that anyone willing to ride a bicycle in a torrential rainstorm must have escaped from the Greystone Asylum a few hours ago.  Despite the schizophrenic cyclist, a couple drivers actually thought I could provide them with direction to their destination.  Sorry, never heard of that lake.  Umm, you should see signs for downtown Boonton up ahead, I think.  While I likely succeeded in misdirecting them, I continued on with my damp pursuit of riding the large circle around the back roads of Morris County.

I saw a few other schizophrenic riders while out.  I think they too were confused with the weather.  Rain does not equate into the ideal climate for cycling on your cycle.  Perhaps they too got stuck in the storm, but not being as hefty as myself, they were farther away from their starting point, and immediately turned around when the sky began falling.  Despite the lack of specs on my face, I tried not to laugh at one gentleman riding as I noticed his expensive attire and bicycle.  He must have spent hundreds on his jersey, and looked really annoyed that he was getting his $2500.00 bike wet.  He looked at me as if I belonged on the Pulaski Skyway selling stolen bottles of water to weary commuters.  Obviously a character like me does not belong in Mountain Lakes, NJ.

Heading back home, I had a heart attack when an ambulance blasted me with its siren.  I was the only person around that lonely stretch of road with like 20 feet of shoulder.  The surprise practically pulled me into the ditch, but I survived.  Just seemed kind of unnecessary.  Perhaps they thought I was another escapee, but then, they’d have pulled me off of my sopping bicycle, and onto the stretcher, straps and all.  Moments after, I noticed the ambulance pull into the hospital.  Ok, it was a real emergency and I can stop being annoyed.

I finally pulled into my driveway.  Tired even though I only spun out 13.5 miles according to my cyclometer.  What an adventure.  Actually, I don’t mind riding in the rain.  I might try that again. Next time I’ll bring my lights.  And a rain poncho.  Stay dry.

Advertisement