I rode home in the most torrential rain last night it was only 5 pm and the street lights came during one particularly bad down pour. I had no lights on and felt a tad vunrable I ended up stopping at the weirdest bike shop to get a front light, which after about 10 minutes of routing through piles of stuff during which time i had totally cooled down they just about managed to find 1... it also took two members of staff to serve me!
Back outside there were drain grates been pushed up from the force of the water swelling up from underneath, small children been swept away, people panic buying tinned food product and looting shops... well they could have been I couldn’t really more than 5 metres ahead.
I did reach a Zen type state as I realised I couldn’t be any wetter and as I ride the roads every day I knew where the pot holes were, even under the windermere’esque lakes that were covering the roads. If I had a car I would have been glad to be out of the rain but as it happened all the traffic ground to a complete halt both ways on the M60 meaning all the A roads were blocked as well I recon I got home before most of them anyway... losers. (I jest I do not think all car drivers are losers)
The surreal thing is though as I came up Warmsley Rd out of Bury the sun was blazing, it had rained earlier but mostly dried up and due to the cars all been stuck in traffic it was the quietest ride home I have ever had. The down side of this was I didn’t get any respect or sympathy from the other half, I was imagining him waiting all concerned like at the living room window perhaps a hot mug of coco in his hand, all I got was a casual alright and you’re a bit late aren’t you.
Miles covered loads plus some for ridding through really big puddles.
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