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I was in the animal shelter at the end of the shift tonight when the heavens opened. Three people offered to give me a ride back home, but I declined. I'm stubborn. Being an all-weather cyclist is part of my identity; in a way, the worse the weather, the more self-affirmation. The fourth offer was less an offer than a demand though. I'd unlocked my bike from the pole and was bent double over the saddle bags, getting everything packed into them. My clothes were drenched; water was running from the hems of my blue jeans and my shirt was plastered to my back. A volunteer yelled at me from across the parking lot: "I'm not letting you bike home in this! Get in the car!"
I relented. I locked the bike up again, and was whisked home in a warm dry car. Well, dry except for the places I dripped on it. I really appreciate the time and concern! It was heavy enough rain that I might have decided to stop under some kind of overhead protection and wait it out a bit. There was enough water on my glasses that it was hard to see.
Hopefully I can get back out tonight and pick it up. I'm going to be biking to Kenosha tomorrow to visit my parents and help them clean out their basement.
I relented. I locked the bike up again, and was whisked home in a warm dry car. Well, dry except for the places I dripped on it. I really appreciate the time and concern! It was heavy enough rain that I might have decided to stop under some kind of overhead protection and wait it out a bit. There was enough water on my glasses that it was hard to see.
Hopefully I can get back out tonight and pick it up. I'm going to be biking to Kenosha tomorrow to visit my parents and help them clean out their basement.