Pissed off with fucking rain...

I'm fed up with rain. Today (Sunday) I headed off, for the second time, in a downpour. Yesterday I went out, wearing my ridiculous cape, and rode to Oxted. Today, the plan was Westerham to meet Andy and yes, it was raining; except that today it was much heavier than yesterday. Yesterday I managed to reach Oxted without getting too much of a soaking. Today, the driving rain meant that I was soaked through before I reached the top of Church Way, but I persevered. By the time I reached Knights Garden Centre, roughly four miles from home, I was completely drenched. My shoes were soaked and will remain so for the rest of the week. When I put them on this morning they were already wet from yesterday as was the cape, which is totally useless. It's like a tent. You know when you go camping and people tell you not to touch the walls of the tent because they will be wet, well, it's the same with the cape except that the cape does make contact with your body and so you get wet. If I wore the cape on a dry day I'd still get wet. 

I don't like cycling in the rain and this weekend has been the third in a row. By and large, up until now, it's been fine, although on all occasions I've taken a soaking, despite wearing so-called waterproof clothing. Today, however, was the worst ever. The rain was constant, never-ending, and initially when I stopped at Knights Garden Centre to send Andy a text saying I was diverting to Tatsfield Village, that was the plan. But the phone itself was malfunctioning because it was wet weather DESPITE being in a zipped pocket on the front of the cape. My feet were wet through, but the rain wasn't slowing down, there were huge puddles spanning the road. I'd moved on to the off-road track, like I did yesterday on my return from Oxted, risking again the chance of a puncture. I was fully expecting a puncture when I opened up the garage this morning but all was well. So, as I stood on the off-road path a few yards past Knights, I realised that there was no point going any further. Whether I reached Tatsfield or Westerham I would be thoroughly soaked through (I was already) and there was no way that I could possibly get any wetter, but had I continued I would have become more and more uncomfortable and when I reached wherever I was going I would have sat there, soaking wet. This was, I realised, not enjoyable at all and so I decided to return home. Even when I turned the bike around the rain didn't let up, but when I reached Warlingham I thought for a minute that things were slowing down. I stopped and reconsidered my position. Perhaps I should head back to Tatsfield Village, but I was deluded and time was moving on; and then I realised the error of my thinking: I was still soaking wet. The best option was to go home and dry off, which was what I did. In short it was too much. I would have been better off going swimming, I was just as wet.

Bike (and cape) back in the garage...

The cape is useless and dangerous. There are holes through which you can slot your hands, but this is not good as doing so means that you will get wet from the waist down. If you decide to keep your hands underneath the cape you then cover your legs BUT it's dangerous as you then find yourself preoccupied with keeping your legs dry, you don't have full control of the gears or brakes and you're not holding firmly enough to the handlebars because you keep thinking about keeping the cape stretched over your legs.

Today's rain was off the scale. The usual puddles by the gutters had been replaced by torrents of water, raging rapids, there were waves of rainwater crossing the road in front of me on the return ride, which made me realise that turning back wasn't such a bad idea. 

Incidentally, the reason I was on the off-road path once I reached Knights Garden Centre was because I knew that cars would be revelling in giving me an additional soaking, something they were denied. 

Andy made it to Westerham but he said it was grim. Now that's the word to describe it: grim. It was grim, terribly grim, and while a part of me felt a little rough for turning back, I knew I'd made the right decision. It would have been pointless to continue. As I write this, my trainers have been moved to the garage where they can dry off and not stink out the porch where I originally left them. My gloves are weighed down with rainwater and could probably be wringed out, similarly the pink woollen bobble hat I was wearing underneath my helmet.

Yesterday, as I rode in the rain with the cape to Oxted, I spotted a cyclist who seemed to be wearing the right stuff. It looked as if he was wearing a wet suit (not a bad idea) but of course he wasn't; he was wearing a waterproof cycling top and matching leggings and he looked as if the rain didn't matter, probably because it didn't. He wasn't billowing around like an idiot with what amounted to a huge high-visibility sail that flapped around and even collected water. 

Wet trainers...very wet trainers

There's riding in the rain and there's riding in the rain. Both are unpleasant and today was the final straw for me after three consecutive weeks of it. The only good thing about this week is that I managed three rides.

Later...

By 1515hrs the sun was out and there was no rain. While I had no intention of going out on the bike, the thought did cross my mind. I imagined myself cycling off in the sunshine and heading for Westerham's Costa Coffee. I might even have packed a book to read for when I got there. These were the thoughts going around in my head and I even started to wonder what would have happened. Would I have got there without any rain? Would it have rained as I sat in the Costa reading? Would I have been soaked? Well, my questions were answered. I would have been soaked. I reckon I might well have reached Westerham, I would have been sitting there reading and sipping English Breakfast tea as the light faded and the streelights came on and then I might have looked up and noticed the rain hammering down outside. I would have thought, 'I'll leave it a while and see what happens' but ultimately I would have to go out in the rain, don the cape and ride off; and imagine how I would have felt! Conned! I thought I could just get up and go and escape the rain but hey! I was caught out again. But! Great news! I didn't go out, I stayed in. I wasn't conned. I'm dry!