Fate and a sick child overtook my plans for the Swap and Drag this past weekend. My mother in law was kind enough to watch the girls Friday so I could get a little seat time in before the cabin fever inspiring weekend. BamaRides has a pretty great photo-tag game going on and since I had the time and the location, I went for the tag. It was placed on an awesome stretch of county road just outside of town.
It was chilly and the rain chances ended up being more than just empty threats. That said, 60 miles are better than none. I
met a friend close by for Mexican food and stuffed myself with skirt steak
before heading back out into the downpour. Much to my chagrin, the
precipitation situation had gotten worse.
I stopped for a photo to move the tag. 10 miles away from the house the three layers of cotton up top were soaked through insulating my torso with water. The wind cooled it further and I reached the point of abject misery. At times like this, a handful of miles might as well be a million and you feel like you'll never get home. Eventually through the droplets and fog on my glasses I could see the end and pulled the bike into the garage. The sizzle of cool rain on hot exhaust rang in my ears as I dashed inside, stripping off the layers and rushing to start the hot water in the shower stall. If a day is good enough, not even cold and rain can ruin it. I put this one in the "W" column.