Thursday night they got the furnace running. The water heater was doing its thing in time for me to enjoy a hot shower before work Friday night. And… Sunday my neighbor downstairs called to let me know that she had found my missing house key.
As an added bonus, I just realized that all the rain and flooding should have washed all of the evil salt from the roads, so hopefully I’ll be out rocking the ‘good’ bike wheels this week, with nary a worry that my pristine, practically frictionless bearings will be infiltrated by salt water or my bike otherwise besmirched with unsightly salty grime.
Today after considerable time steeling myself for the inevitable horrors of an ice-cold shower, I bit the bullet and took one (with quite a bit of, shall we say, “colorful language” thrown in for good measure). Along the way I discovered something, an ice-cold shower is a sure way to put me in a foul mood. It’s not “exhilarating”, it’s not “invigorating”. It’s horrible, it’s truly awful. It’s just a blindfold away from being actual torture.
Anyway, after doing my best to put this awfulness behind me it was off to the big reference laboratory where they’ll be drawing blood and doing my labwork, some 30 minutes away. I arrived at 3:40 feeling quite pleased with myself until I discovered that they closed at 3:30! Who the Hell, aside from elementary schools, calls it a day a 3:30?!?
So, having accomplished exactly nothing aside from wasting well over an hour driving, I arrived back home. Imagine my delight when I discovered that I didn’t have my house key. After several minutes attempting the old “credit card trick” I concede that I’m going to have to go retrieve my hidden emergency key.
Guess where it’s hidden? In the basement. The same basement that is filled knee-deep with ice-cold water which backed up through the floor drain from the storm sewer. At least when I was done I could rinse off with yet more ice-cold water and bask in my 55° apartment.
And that was my day.
Tuesday and Wednesday it absolutely poured rain, at one point Wednesday evening it even started to snow big fluffy snowflakes. For a brief time everything that wasn’t underwater was coated in snow.
The bad news is that my basement flooded and I therefore have no heat or hot water until they get it pumped out and the various pilot lights can be re-ignited.
The good news? There’s a family of ducks who seem to be having a splendid time swimming around what used to be my back yard.
Last week our weather was typical of the “dog days” of summer; temps in the mid to upper 90’s (even breaking 100° once or twice, depending on who you believe) with late-afternoon/evening thunderstorms popping up. Consequently my preferred evening ride time kept getting rained out. I kept telling myself I’d put on the headlight and go once it dried out and cooled off, but even that proved problematic. Wednesday night, for instance, it was still 90° at midnight. 90°! At midnight! And soupy-humid too, as an added bonus.
Anyway, Thursday night/Friday morning I was not going to be denied and headed out for a ride about 4am. The temperature was a very pleasant 70 and the humidity was ultra-high (which I really don’t mind at night, as long as it’s cool).
Riding out into the countryside I stopped and switched off my light to appreciate the relative lack of light pollution and the attendant dark skies. There was just the barest sliver of a moon so the stars were in full effect. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness and more and more stars became visible I saw a faint, shimmering shooting star. A few minutes later there was another; apparently the beginnings of this year’s Perseids (which I had forgotten about).
After soaking in the beauty of the night for a bit longer I saddled up, switched my light back on, and rode back into town, rejuvenated. Ain’t life grand?
I knew the glorious, perfect weather couldn’t last, and alas, it has not.
Am I going to let a little wind and heat keep me off of
the bike?
No!
No, of course I’m not. I’m off to ride!
Click photo to enlarge
If a picture is worth a thousand words, that’ll save me a lot of typing. I’ll just add this:
Is it any wonder this is one of my favorite spots to take a snack break?
Today it was about 70°F (21°C) with bright sun and fluffy white cumulus clouds marching by overhead. There was just enough gusty breeze to keep things interesting, basically as close to perfect riding weather as I would dare to hope for. I don’t mind hot weather (which is good, given that summer seemed to arrive in mid-May this year), but 70-ish seems to be where my motor runs best.
As I was rolling out of town I spotted two wrenches in the road, which I grabbed to add to my collection of road finds.
Later, riding along an otherwise empty country road, I passed another cyclist going the other direction; a gentleman of (I’m guessing) 70+, tan, shirtless, and fit-looking. We exchanged pleasantries and I rode on, grinning a bit wider than before, imagining my future riding off behind me.
The much needed rain we finally got yesterday had everything looking very fresh and green; a Goldfinch paced me for bit before disappearing into the trees. The day just kept getting more perfect!
Turning back toward town, the wind shifted and I glided along effortlessly at 20MPH, all was right in my world.
Back in town, heading home, I did a (rare for me) perfect trackstand at a 4-way stop and the driver whose turn it was actually went.
Harsh reality, as always, awaited. A block later a car coming the other direction starts to turn directly in front of me; the dreaded left cross! He’s coming right at me, I’m going too fast to stop… thankfully his window is down and he hears me shout “Hey!” He jams on the brakes as I’m right in front of him, looking right into his wide, vacant eyes.
“My bad” he says.
“My bad?”
“My bad” is for when your buddy is wide-open under the basket and you don’t pass him the ball. “My bad” is for when you spill your drink. “My bad” is not for when you nearly hit someone with your car. “My bad” in that situation will get you (at a minimum) cursed at. Thankfully, by the time I realized how much that pissed me off, I had cleared the intersection and was riding away (cursing over my shoulder).
I’m glad I’d had an otherwise perfect day, it makes the near-miss much easier to shrug off. I’m also grateful that the near misses are few enough and far enough between that I don’t recall when the last one was. I do know that I’ve put quite a few perfect rides under my wheels since then, however.
So last night at 11PM it was 63° (that’s 17°C; metric-speakers) and we were under a tornado watch. Tonight it’s 28° (-2°C), still very windy, and spitting snow. Tomorrow the high is only supposed to be 34° (1°C). Apparently the Grinch stole Autumn!
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