Rain drops are falling on my head

31 05 2011

The locals are saying this has been one of the rainiest springs in years and years.  You would think we were on the west side of the mountains, it’s so wet.  So today, when an unexpected blindness turned out to be the sun peeking through the clouds, I couldn’t help but want to chase it.

It was near the end of the work day and my internet was spazzing out on me.  Work could wait; I had to seize the sunlight, as it had been quite fleeting the last few weeks.  Justin and I headed out the door, jumped on our bikes and rode off into the sunset.

Not really.  It was not quite 5pm so the sun was no where near setting, but we did ride off down the old highway, headed south.  The wind blew past our faces, the lilac blossoms filled our nostrils, and the swollen Methow raged along beside us, barely contained within her banks.  Justin identified a few new flowers for me and commented on the speed of the currents – as fast or faster than our peddling legs carried us.

Our back highway runs parallel to the main highway, though on opposite sides of the river, and they come together on the south edge of Carlton about 4 miles from our house.  A nice easy ride, perfect for grabbing some outdoor time on a lunch break.  Or cloud break.

When we reached the highway junction, we paused, watching the tumbling waters for a minute and noting how nice it was to be outside.  And man was that storm to the south bringing big, black, ominous clouds.  Good thing we were turning back north and had missed the rain.

Not a quarter of a mile back towards home, the rain started back up.  The sky was really just kind of spitting, but we were cruising on our bikes, causing the drops to feel like more than they were.   …Right?

By the time we had gone maybe a mile, the sky let loose and the cats and dogs were falling.  We laughed in its face.  We kept up a steady stream of commentary to keep morale high.  “This isn’t so bad!”  “At least we got some time outside!”  “We can’t let a little rain keep us cooped up inside all the time!”

Every comment seemed to cause the rain to fall harder.  As rivulets ran down our faces, into our eyes, down our necks and into our jackets, we laughed at our mess.  How do we always get ourselves into such things?  So we started taunting the sky instead.  “You call this a storm?!” “My grandma could make it rain better than this!”  “Is this really all you got?!”  True Lt. Dan style.

By the time we made it home, we were drenched.  Stashing the bikes, we laughed all the way in the door.  Peeling out of wet clothes, Justin put the water on to boil for some hot tea to warm us up.  I glanced in the mirror to see a drowned rat laughing back at me, bangs plastered to my forehead, curls dripping down my neck.  Good thing I didn’t bother straightening my hair today.

It was funny how I had dry patches.  The front of my shirt was almost completely dry, due to leaning over my handlebars.  My socks and shoes were soaked through.  The underside of my arms were barely damp.

Before I jumped in the shower to warm back up a bit, Justin made a wonderful observation:  “The rain just made it more of an adventure.  There’s a difference between adventure and survival; and though the line that separates them can be pretty thin, adventure equals fun.  And that was fun!”  🙂




Give it to me straight -

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