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Less Than Ideal Weather: Perfect Morning for a Ride!

by on May 15, 2014

The fog lay thick, depositing dewy drops on the leaves, grass and streets.  It looked as if it had rained.  It wasn’t the white blanket of fog that quiets the world.  It was a dreary Irish fog that was foreboding and dark.  It was enough that only three souls made it to the Rusty Bridge.  The others evidently were at home tending their smoky peat fires.

The ride began in that dark place.  Wet from the fog, the road was unwilling to give up its secrets, contours hidden by the damp.  Riding glasses quickly caught the droplets and peering through pebbly droplets made everything even harder to see.  I wore too many clothes for the 63° temperature, but they were striped with bold reflective panels so that I served as a beacon in the darkness.  This all conspired to slow my speed and I marveled at the amount of water rooster-tailing off the front wheel, only to be thrown back to dampen my shoes.  Daylight emerged from the gloom with stealth, nothing but fading darkness to signal its arrival.

We rode three abreast down the ribbon of trail, occasionally encountering a sole pedestrian lost in their own world.  Even the walkers and runners mostly stayed indoors, and only a few were brave enough to venture out to greet the new morn.

Our conversations were engaging and the relaxed speed made it all so much easier.  We often commented how beautiful a morning it was and how we were glad that we were not dissuaded by the gloom.

After the turn around to begin the return home, we were treated with wildlife sightings that made the morning even more spectacular.  At one place where the trail crosses a road, a large doe blocked the trail as she stood for a moment looking dumbfounded at the array of lights signaling our arrival.  She turned, and ran along our path for a time, until she found her well-traveled path into the tree line.  As quick as she turned, she disappeared.  Later, a large tom wild turkey stood sentinel in the driveway as if he were protecting the occupants, as large a bird as I’ve ever seen.  His head followed our progress as if locked onto us with evil intent.  Yet, he did not venture to abandon his post.

And before we knew it, the ride was over.  The peace that descends on this kind of morning fades as we cross the threshold of our homes and the business of the day intrudes.  To have missed this kind of morning would have left a hole … something that one is only aware of because of having the perfect morning for a ride.  Those who missed it know not what they missed.


Bible Verses of the Day:

No hand shall touch them, but they shall be stoned or shot with arrows; whether animal or human being, they shall not live.’ When the trumpet sounds a long blast, they may go up on the mountain.” (Exodus 19:13 NRSV)

“My brothers, you descendants of Abraham’s family, and others who fear God, to us the message of this salvation has been sent. (Acts 13:26 NRSV)

From → Cycling

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