It was dreary and drizzly all day. Chilly, too. One of those days that reminds you that fall is not all crisp and clear and sunny. Sometimes it is wet and bone-chilling.
I originally planned to ride home from work. But the day was colder than anticipated. And I didn’t know it was supposed to rain. I waffled about it all afternoon. Waiting for Evan was an option, a more comfortable option. I didn’t bring a rain jacket.
But I decided to ride anyway. By 5pm, it seemed like the rain had stopped. I pedaled out of town. I felt strong. I hammered my way down Rt. 26, eager as always to get off the main road. My core heated up quickly, and I wondered why in the hell I thought I would be cold. I took my gloves off, shoving them in my frame bag. I turned my music up.
The miles on 26 flew by today. I’m getting faster. I made the sweeping right turn onto Murray Run. I could relax. It’s rare for me to see a car on this road. I stopped a couple times to take pictures of the changing leaves. It began to drizzle again. Oh well. It would probably stop soon.
I made it to the top of Murray and bombed down the other side. Several deer jumped out in front of me. I slowed. The rain began to come down a little harder.
More deer. This time, I had to nearly stop to keep from hitting one. They’ve been crazy lately, jumping out right in front of cars. And bikes, apparently. I always see their glowing eyes lining the street at night as I’m on my way home from work at the bar. Driving home at 1am is like running the deer gauntlet.
I decided to take the more direct way home, hopping back on Rt. 26 for the final couple miles. It was pouring by this point. I was soaked. But I didn’t even care. I was so glad that I rode by bike.
Don’t let the weather hold you back.