Drowned Rat

I had planned myself rather a pleasant day today – a ride into Bigtown for coffee and bike plotting, followed by a happy afternoon putting the Fankle together, as well as a spot of hat shopping to replace the anti-buzzard hat. But the Weather Gods – having returned from wherever they’ve been over the summer and been alerted to my hatless and rayburnless status – had other plans. It was raining when I got up, and still raining when I looked hopefully out of the window thinking it might have brightened a little, and still raining when the time came for me to set off. I put on my waterproof trousers, thinking to myself as I always do that when it comes to listing all the reasons for riding a bike, ‘the chance to wear waterproof overtrousers’ comes very far down the list. The only tiny chink in the general gloom was that it wasn’t too windy which meant I could at least wear my Akubra which stays on my head surprisingly well on a bike as long as I don’t do anything rash like look up. Given that my glasses were very shortly rendered useless by the rain, this didn’t matter that much as I was having to cycle along with my head down looking over my glasses in order to see the blurry road ahead, hoping that nothing smaller and less visible than a double-decker bus was coming the other way.

Fortunately, because it was raining, all the drivers – nice and dry and warm in their cars – were extra polite and courteous around any poor wet cy… sorry, not sure what happened there, a bit of a rush of blood to the head. What I meant to say was the drivers reacted to the rain as if they personally were getting wet in it, and were even more likely to push past me as if I wasn’t there, including two close overtakes on the approach to a roundabout. So I was glad to arrive at my friends’ house alive, and only having had to retrieve my hat once, and be supplied with dry socks, gloves and a top and be fed coffee and flapjacks until I felt relatively human again, followed by more excellent weapons-strength coffee (and explosive gossip) at the Roncadora Press HQ. Sadly, my hat shopping was unsuccessful – my head is too small* – and the wind had picked up by the afternoon, meaning no hat at all on the way home. And another drenching. Thanks Weather Gods, we’ve really missed you guys. Not.

I should probably, as an award-winning cycle campaigner and everything, wax lyrical here about the joys of cycling, even in the rain. But you know what? I don’t think I’d be fooling anyone.

* insert your own joke here


2 Responses to Drowned Rat

  1. spike deane says:

    I’m always surprised by the behaviour of ‘warm dry motorists’ in miserable weather. It’s a truly strange phenomena…I doubt it’s some sort of empathy.

  2. disgruntled says:

    I suppose the polite (but scary) explanation is that the reduced visibility means they simple didn’t see you…

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