Serbrina woke me up early this morning. “Listen, it’s raining!” A sleepy smile formed and then I fell back asleep. I woke up to wet ground, the smell of fresh air and sound of raindrops.
I haven’t seen rain since Montana. I was hiding under the 15 freeway on the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route. It was always dreary, never raining hard, but just there. Like something looming over me. But I would only get a sprinkle. I was so sick and tired of the rain by then that I didn’t want to ride anymore. It was one of the reasons I bailed on myself.
Before the ride I looked forward to riding in the rain. I thought it would be good training. I figured I’d see a lot of rain on the trail, so I better get used to it. I did, so much so that the commutes in the rain became my favorite. I looked forward to the wet, saving rest days for dry days. They say that riding a bike makes you feel alive, but you ain’t livin’ unless you’re riding in the rain. The water accumlating in your beard. Your toes squishing around in your shoes. The urge to ride through EVERY puddle. If you’re lucky, maybe even a case of mild hypothermia. All of those things make riding in the rain an unforgettable experience.
For a while there I didn’t want to see your stupid face rain. Now that some time has passed, and I’ve been able to think about it, I’m glad you’re back. Hope you stay for a while.