A little spring rain never hurt anyone
"I'm glad I'm not riding by myself today," Serena told me yesterday, as we pedaled home along our regular route through Montlake.
It had begun to rain. You could call it a spring rain, but it was a cold spring rain.
We said our goodbyes. She turned onto Madison; I continued straight on Martin Luther King Jr. Way. The rain turned to hail, which stung my eyes and soaked into my socks. Only three blocks stood between me and my warm kitchen, but it was an uphill battle -- both literally and figuratively. My internal monologue went something like this: "Uuuuurrrghhhhh."
And then I turned the corner and rolled home under the full arch of a rainbow. By the time I arrived at my doorstep, I was wearing an ear-to-ear grin.
It's a simple pleasure, sure. But had I been in a car or on a bus, I likely would've missed it.
Has your bike commute brought welcome surprises? Share them in the comments, and remember to enjoy the ride.