Whatever that means
Although we usually try hard to avoid getting drenched, there’s something nice about having to cycle home in the rain and giving yourself up to it and enjoying it. It helps when it’s quite warm summer rain and you don’t have too far to go. Although it was pissing down when I left the office, I decided to avoid getting drenched on the way to the station and just walked under the umbrella. It’s quite miserable standing soaking and smelling like a wet dog on the train.
At Inverkeithing I just had to get on with it. So I rolled up the legs of my trousers and headed off. It’s remarkable how much water stays on some roads with the dip in which cyclists usually have to ride running like a river in places. I was on my not-quite-as-cissy-a-bike-as-a-mountain-bike-should-be. It’s got front suspension but I’ve ruined the front derailleur so I only have the middle ring and the eight-speed rear cassette but that’s still a wide range of eight gears. Seven more than my single speed with its
broken spoke but 16 fewer than my tourer. It’s a nice comfy ride and quite slow because of the gears. Anyway, the whole experience reminded me of being a kid and one day delivering my papers in the rain. I was drenched already so it was a bit of fun to walk along, one foot on the pavement and the other splashing down into the river running along the gutter. By the time I got home some nosey old clipe had phoned my mother to tell her what I was doing like it would have kept me drier to not splash in the gutter.
It didn’t rain all day. Lunchtime I took my bike up by the canal and found some more graffiti. Don’t know what it is with graffiti this week. I don’t even have any time for it as an ‘art’ but it makes interesting shapes and textures.