Yellow tailed black bird
Glides through the sharp green forest
To search for a mate.
Sunday, June 5, 2016
You would think that a rider that moves to a country with a pronounced and long rainy season wouldn’t mind the occasional ride in the rain. But that’s not me. I’m no storm chaser. Heck, I’m not even a drop chaser. I don’t want to get wet or cold and I definitely don’t want to worry about my tires sliding or my brakes fading going down any steep and treacherous slick descents.
Fortunately I’ve only been lightly rained on twice and rolled through a bit of fog once since we’ve lived here. It rarely rains in the morning. Two or three times at the most have I not mounted up because of early rain.
Almost always the roads are pretty dry by 8:30 and the rain doesn’t start until after 1. But then there’s those bizarre circumstances that can throw the whole stay dry calculus out the window. Like yesterday, when traffic was stopped to remove a truck that had slid into a ditch. I was forced to sit there and wait and worry. It was interesting to watch and I’m glad no one was hurt. But the big selfish relief came when I was able to ride again and get home without getting wet.
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