In My Ear

Riding back home atop the levee this morning, I thought, "Damn, this is an odd sensation."

I had made the fateful decision to get in a few miles this morning despite the undeniable certainty of imminent rain. The radar clearly showed a thick band of rain approaching from the south, and there was little chance it would hold off for more than half an hour. On the other hand, there was also little doubt that once the rain started it wasn't going to stop. The big low pressure area moving in to Texas was just pumping an unending stream of moisture right over the city. So I put the phone in a Ziploc bag and jumped on the old Cervelo knowing full well I'd get wet. The only question was how soon and how much.

My rule of thumb about riding in the rain is that it's usually fine for the first half-hour. After that things tend to start getting messy and, usually, cold. Messy I can handle, cold not so much. I figured I'd probably be able to sneak in half an hour before the rain started, at which point I'd turn around and ride home in the rain as my shoes filled with water, which is pretty much what happened today.

There were just a couple of us willing to take the plunge this morning, and I was the only one who would have to turn around to ride back. I figured I'd probably make it at least out to the Country Club before turning back, and indeed that was about when the light mist started to harden into a light rain. So I turned around just as I we met up with Taylor who decided to ride with me for a while. The sky to the southeast was that bluish-gray color that is never a good sign, and we were heading straight for it. Soon the light rain got harder and we started to feel the sudden, cold downdrafts coming out of the storm. Taylor turned back and I continued on alone. We had passed John, heading the other way, a bit earlier, and soon I heard him come up behind me. The rain had now become largely horizontal, stinging my face and blowing my front wheel around on the wet asphalt. I felt the cold water soak into my socks and could taste the old salty sweat as it washed out of my helmet pads and dripped down my face. As the road turned more to the east I had the odd sensation of having raindrops blown directly into my right ear as the "26 Wind Tunnel vents" of my helmet offered little resistance to the pelting rain. I had made the right decisions, however, and as I dropped down from the levee to River Road the rain eased up just a bit. With both front and back blinky lights flashing, I worked my way back home through the neighborhood, dodging the school buses and SUV moms, arriving home in plenty of time to avoid too bad of a chill. It was probably only about 15 miles, but you know, you've gotta ride when you can. It's nearly 3 pm right now and the rain hasn't really let up much all day. Fortunately, neither have the city's drainage pumps!