I tried to run an errand in town and time it so that I'd beat a line of thunderstorms that was due to roll through. I got dressed, clocked out and got the bike and as I approached the doors to leave, it began to pour. Ugh. I got the raincape and waited a minute or so, sure enough it slowed down to a drizzle. Awesome! I left still rain-caped and as I got a mile away from the building it began to pour again and didn't stop for another 30 minutes, in fact, it got worse: sheets of rain and wind pelted me, the streets became rivers up to the curbs because the storm drains were clogged with Regatta debris.
This was the worst weather event I'd ridden in.
But really: "worst"? No.
I resigned myself to the moisture and embraced this: I grinned like a fool; I "Woo-hoo!-ed" and "Yeah!-ed"whenever I was blasted with a wall of water. This was thrilling, this was joy.
It was like a log-flume ride at an amusement park.
The microphone picks up one of my "Wooo!"s at 5:14.
Warning: disc brakes make a LOT of noise when they're wet.
I got back and everything was soaked, the gloves, helmet, sandals, the raincape's zipper leaked and I was soaked down the front. The pannier's contents stayed dry but the outer layer was soaked. I laid all the waterlogged things out in front of a fan in my office to dry them.
Oh, and most importantly: my hair stayed dry.
I should do this more often.