“I never ride in the rain.”
I hear that statement a fair amount. It always gives me pause. To begin with, here in north Georgia, our climate can toss almost anything at us, and at almost any time. I’ve been deluged on days when there was a “zero percent rainchance,” in the middle of a drought. How does one avoid that? (Possibly by never riding outside?)
I rather like riding in the rain. I don’t like being wet and cold. I am a bit leery of conditions where visibility is greatly reduced. Both of these situations are fairly easy to avoid or deal with. This wasn’t always the case.
Ages ago, when I was first learning road cycling, I tried to avoid rain. Of course, if it rained while I was out, I rode in it. Usually taking the shortest route home. I learned. I learned that a Summer shower was refreshing. I learned that my bike would handle the conditions well. I learned how to handle traffic in rain.
But in those pre-historic days (before the invention of Gore-Tex) rain and cool weather presented a problem. The only answer we had was wool. Wool and rain jackets. (Waxed cotton duck did exist, but I hadn’t found out about it.)
The early rain jackets were a light and short version of the kid’s “slicker” that I’d used in grade school. Basically, this was rubberized denim fabric. Bright yellow. It stank, and it didn’t do a very good job. It was all but useless in warm weather because it trapped heat and moisture. So in a few minutes, the rider was just as wet as if no jacket had been worn.
Wool does do a fair job of insulating, even when wet, but the wool riding clothing of the day came in two basic varieties. There was the stuff I could afford, and the “good stuff.” The stuff I could afford was itchy, smelly, and didn’t hold shape well. It was hard to wash, took forever to dry, and it was just plain not a lot of fun. In colder weather these jackets helped a bit, but the rain ride was still a test of fortitude and character.
The mid-1970s were an interesting and exciting time for cycling. There was a major “bike boom” going on. The recent oil embargoes had pushed a lot of people toward bicycles. Suddenly a rather large segment of the American population was taking to the road on bicycles. Somehow, the idea of touring caught on. Lots of folks decided to give it a try. I was one of them.
There was another thing about the mid-70s that was interesting. We hadn’t discovered global warming yet. In fact, the then current “big scare” was that the Ice Age was coming. I do remember it being a lot colder in the Winters, with a lot more snow, and the Summers were hotter. (And yes, I walked to school, six miles, barefoot, in the snow, uphill both ways!) And it seems it rained a whole lot more. (Maybe that last was just a local phenomena. I seem to attract rain.)
My early attempts at bicycle touring were learning experiences. My first trips were short, weekend rides to slightly removed campsites. It usually rained.
This was a typical scenario. I’d start out with high hopes and great expectations. The forecast would be favorable, the day sunny. By mid-afternoon the clouds would be rolling in. Shortly after that it would start to rain. Not a passing shower mind you. It would start as light rain, and gradually escalate to steady, with occasional burst of torrential.
(Digression: Descending, on a 70s vintage bicycle, loaded, with the crappy brakes of the era, was an experience. Modern bikes are worth every penny! :End Digression)
The rain would continue, slowing progress, and soaking and chilling me. I would arrive at the campsite to find it semi-flooded. I would attempt to find dry ground, or at least ground above the waterline. Then I would make camp. It’s very difficult to get dry and warm when you are already soaked before setting up camp, and it is raining steadily while you are setting up.
(Digression: The camping equipment of that era was heavy, cumbersome, and not very weather worthy. Modern equipment is worth every penny! For that matter, there is a lot to be said for motels with dry rooms, clean sheets, and hot running water at the end of a day! :End Digression)
I would spend a long night, damp, and cold. It would be raining throughout the night. Breakfast would be cold. But the sun usually came out on my return trip, and I would arrive back home, warm, dry, and only slightly chafed.
There were a couple of these trips that stayed dry, and they were wonderful, but they were also rare.
Gradually, equipment improved. At the same time, my attitude changed. I found that a ride in the rain beat staying indoors. I learned to ride in the rain, and to welcome the challenge. I learned to actually like rain rides. (Mostly. Not always, but more often than not.) I learned the truth of the adage, “There is no bad weather, only poor clothing choices.”
Late in last Winter, I was riding to work. The weather was, in a word, lousy. It was grey. It was raining, mixed with sleet. I was under my incredible, British made, rain-cape, on my trusty full-fendered tourist. I was actually a bit too warm, and quite dry. I was relishing things around me, having the time of my life, when…
A largish SUV pulled along side of me. The passenger’s side window powered down and the driver called out, “Do you need help? I’ll give you a ride and you can put your bike in the back. Without thinking, I replied, “No thanks! I wouldn’t want to miss all this!”
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