Cudgel of shame

As this entry addresses cycling and certain winter weather conditions, certain readers will want to wait until the next post. You know who you are. Anyway. It snowed early this morning followed by other forms of precipitation throughout the day. Here in the Triangle that phenomenon unhinges people. It would be hilarious if it weren't so moronic. I was in the office by 8:45 a.m. I was one of the first ones in, preceded, by among others, our big boss. She's Canadian so the dusting and sleet and rain had no effect. Nevertheless she noted that I had come in on the mountain bike. At that point I offered myself as the previously mentioned cudgel of shame with which she could beat our coworkers. Though charmed by my selflessness, my observation indicated she declined to take advantage. After making my offer I walked to my standing appointment at the Cary Police Department. My contact there wasted no time in kindheartedly using me as an instrument of discipline for some of his tardier charges. But, you know, if a guy on a mountain bike can beat you into work during a seasonal hiccup you should be embarrassed, no matter how terribly the natives have gummed up traffic on the freeways.
Here at cycledork central the big news is that there were no flaming socks today. The new rain pants held up their end. My hikers and tops performed as dependably as a rider could want. Even though this was the day The Secret Weapon was designed for, they only work with the pedals on the 2100. I know though from some rainy rides that they live up to their billing. As you might expect from a group that can delay highways for hours over an inch of semisolid precipitation, drivers were stupid. Fortunately, where I was riding, they were few. Bottom line: the only moisture on my skin at either end of the trip was perspiration.

The secret weapon …

Like so many other solstice miracles, arrived today. A pair of Sidi Hydro GTX. Ah, the magic of Gore-tex. And what a perfect day to see what they're made of — pouring down rain, about 50 degrees. I haven't seen it rain this hard since Tropical Storm Ernesto. Anyway. So I get my gear on, do about a mile. The boots are bulletproof from the outside. Once I figure out how to keep water from getting in — and it was only light seepage into the right shoe — I'm golden. And again, about those Illuminite pants. Reflective, warm, yes. Waterproof, no; another wet-ass four-minute ride. I'll be looking at Plan B and beyond to protect myself from the elements below the waist.