Today was one of those inexplicable days. As soon as I set my bike on the ground in NW Portland to take a hilly ride, the skies opened up. I was drenched in a soft rain. Proving how thin the skin of presence is I could hear LadySmith Black Mombasa sing, “brrrrrr, rain, beautiful rain…” and I could smell the grass of the Maasai Mara. The rain is a blessing, but not being able to see as well with spots all over my classes, and not being able to shift gears because my hands kept slipping were annoying realities. I made it up the hills through Washington Park and the Arboretum, and for the first time, I didn’t feel like throwing up. There may be a few reasons for this: 1) there was plenty of time between the ride and breakfast, 2) I wasn’t trying to chase someone up the hills, or 3) I wasn’t pushing myself. Perhaps 4) all of the above.
Once up to Skyline, I was a little more nervous than usual on the windy, no-shoulder road. One car came a little too close, a little to quickly, and about a mile later, his car was on its side, leaning up against the ditch. He was standing next to the car, and he looked unscathed. Luckily. But seeing his car made me realize how slick the roads must be after so little rain for so long, and I decided to get down off the skinny roads as soon as I could.
The ride wasn’t long, but it was good to get some hills in. I’m building up to tackle Larch Mtn. And after the next few rides, I’ll taper before Cycle Oregon. Thanks for your good thoughts.