A League of American Bicyclists email arrived in my inbox, announcing that it's Bike to Work Week. Wolfeboro used to make a big deal out of it in the late 1990s, and maybe slopping over a bit into the 2000s, but they largely ignore it now.
My work week doesn't line up with normal people's weeks, so for me it begins tomorrow. The forecast has gone from possibly showery in the afternoon to a washout. In fact, Wednesday through Friday look like they will all deliver badly needed rain to our drought-afflicted area.
Last Saturday I defied the weather to ride the bike. The morning was dry, with bright sun in a blue sky until shortly before I set out. Clouds thickened as I rode to town.
The actual rain arrived near the middle of the day and increased. The temperature topped out in the 50s (F), prime hypothermia conditions for people who think that peril is reserved for the deep freeze of winter. With proper attire it's just grossly uncomfortable. And that was the theme for the ride home. I was wet within the first two miles, but warm enough from the exertion as I climbed to the height of land on Route 28. From there I faced a two-mile descent. In fact, the only climbs from there all the way home are short interruptions to the general downhill trend. On a warm, dry day it's a relief to have gravity on my side. Facing a wet, chilly easterly wind it's just another kind of grind.
The worst problem with rain riding is wet shoes. I have addressed this by using vapor barrier socks on the inside and bread bags over the shoes on the outside. The bags are about as effective as expensive commercial shoe covers, and sometimes more so. I don't ride with cleated shoes anymore, because I want to be able to walk easily if the need arises, without damaging expensive specialty footwear. And I eat a lot of bread.
As for the rest of me, I wear enough mid layers to preserve functional warmth even as the outer shell leaks and my own sweat wicks outward. It's time-limited, but the system has worked well enough to last as long as the duration of my ride. However, it's better when I arrive home with a bunch of wet clothing than when I arrive at work that way.
For many years, a natural food store in the unit below ours had refrigeration compressors running in the basement, creating a perfect space in which to dry wet bike clothes. Sadly, they have been gone for a long time now, and the basement is a dismal place of perpetual chill. Wet clothes in the morning would still be wet at the end of the day. This influences my willingness to launch into a wet forecast.
Rainy weather on Bike to Work Week is just another joke. How do we know when a powerful aurora borealis display is coming? The forecast calls for clouds. Same with meteor showers, planetary convergences, blood moons, eclipses... In the grand scheme of a commuting season, weather will interfere a few times. Bike to Work Week only matters because the publicity increases awareness. Non-riders might be looking to see who is out there. It's a chance to have a greater promotional impact. Hard to say whether that impact would be positive or negative when drivers peer through their rain-streaked windshields at some saturated idiot pedaling doggedly through the deluge. Come on out! It's fun!
"Look what riding a bike all the time does to your brain. That boy there doesn't even know to come in out of the rain!"
A lifetime of commitment to reducing fossil fuel use just looks like soft-headed lunacy, especially now that we have electric cars. And extolling the benefits of physical fitness is ableist and body shaming. Ya tone-deaf bastard! Read the room! The heroic defiance of the elements just looks stupid. Or it's admirable dedication, but not an inspiration.
Truly, you do have to choose your motivators. Our paths weave and blend in confusing ways. In the course of your life you might travel alongside someone for a year or two, only to have them veer away as their goals take them to more conventional measures of success.
This is a good time to mention that transportation cycling can actually cost you mileage. I often don't get to ride on my days off, because I'm doing essential things that I don't have time for in the margins of a work day. I hate to miss an opportunity, but a ride chews an hour or two out of a day when I might have other time-consuming tasks like stacking firewood or painting the deck. Or I have a packed schedule of numerous shorter activities. I know that thirty miles are waiting for me on the next workday, with roughly half bracketing each end of the hours at the shop.
The commute is not an easy ride. It requires a cumulative thousand feet of climbing for the day, and the stress of interacting with commuting motorists for the entire distance. As the season advances to peak summer, the number of motor vehicles increases. We generally get along, but it pushes my pace to claim my space.
I had to keep from laughing the other day when a rider who lives in Wolfeboro complained about drivers towing trailers on the road that parallels the lake shore. "These guys go by and their trailer is only two feet from my handlebar!"
Two feet? Nice! Try a wall of tractor trailer tires six inches away as the rig takes forever to get by you on a rainy morning in traffic on Center Street. To be fair to the truck driver, I was trying to get him in front of me so I could get the draft. I try to avoid situations like that now...mostly. I do love a draft, though.
I haven't decided yet if the weather and I will be giving each other the finger as it spits on me and I defy it, or if I just can't work the logistics of a wet ride in. Most of that depends on whether the ride in will be wet.
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