It was a tweener weather day. The thermometer said 49 degrees. Fog hung on the moors. Hounds bayed in the gloom. I decided to wear my rain pants over my shorts to avoid freezing. Instead, withing a mile or two, my legs were wet from sweat. Big Nellie’s fairing was making my legs uncomfortably warm. In Old Town I passed Nancy Duley, who was wearing lycra bikes shorts. She had pulled over to the side of the trail to take a bracing pull from her bourbon-filled flask. Okay, I made that last part up. She was straddling her bike on the side of the trail. We said our “Good Mornings!” as I rode past. It just occurred to me that she is always smiling. And she almost always seems to be riding away from work. Coincidence? I don’t think so.
About a half mile after my encounter with Ms. Duley, I decided that cold legs were better than sweaty legs. I stopped and pulled off my rain pants. It was good planning that I had worn mountain bike shorts underneath, because, otherwise, I’d be writing this from the Alexandria City jail. Back on the bike again I realized I had traded warm, sweaty legs for cold, wet legs. Scar was right. Life’s not fair.
The rest of the ride into Rosslyn was copacetic. I didn’t get killed riding through the Circle of Doom, otherwise I’d be writing this from the great beyond, the sweet by and by.
We had our office Christmas lunch today. Just before my food arrived a waiter lost control of a tray he was carrying. I had slung my waterproof bike jacket over the back of my chair. The fallen tray loosed a slow motion splash of ketchup across the back of my jacket. I took the brunt of the splash, thereby saving my office mates from a mass trip to the dry cleaner.
After the lunch we were allowed to go home. I went back to the office for a little bit to finish off some this and that and was on the road long before sunset. I rode home in daylight!!! I didn’t dissolve or sparkle which depending on how old your vampire lore is pretty much means that I am not the undead. I could still be a werewolf but the full moon is weeks away. (Ahhh Oooooh!!!)
Big Nellie did a nice job tacking through the blustery winds. On windy days fairings make for a challenging and rewarding ride.
When I got home, I through the jacket into the washer with some other stinky bike commuting clothes, of which I have bo-ku.
Then I realized that it felt like 2 a.m. at 5 p.m. And I was shaking with cold.
There wasn’t any garlic around and we don’t have a crucifix in the house.
I am the unwell.