so when you hardened cycle tourist are planning your next tour do you allow for days like these.
Yep; part and parcel, jags. I know I'll be breaking through snow in the Cascades on my way to the desert, and I certainly will atop Steens Mountain -- assuming it is not too deep (as in meter-deep) to get up there. Same with Diamond Peak's Emigrant Pass. Laying out my gear, it seems ridiculous to pack my winter down bag for spring/early summer in the desert...until I remember I'll be spending time at altitude to get there, and can expect some snow and hailstorms while touring. Weather is variable!
For me, this is all part of the Adventure. I know I'll be encountering Weather, so I plan for that in what I take, and change gear accordingly while riding. I'm not a lay-around in the tent sort, so if it is a new day, I'm riding and use the tent just for sleeping (which is why my bivy-tent or 1-man tent seems roomy; I'm not in except to sleep). Cooking is outdoors, too; the rain fills the pots nicely and that is what rain gear is for. When I'm riding and it pounds down too hard to see, I get off the bike, squat down at the side of the road with head bent and arms around knees, and wait a bit for it to ease, then back on the bike I go.
One of my most precious memories is riding home from a tour through Oregon's Coast Range with Jack (Dad) in the midst of a heavy ice and snow storm. We awakened with the tents covered like Alan's photo, then found ourselves going through roadblocks where the rangers, state highway patrol and transport department had closed the roads ahead of us. Yes, it was cold and wet and a slog, but oh! the memories! The world was silent and white, and we saw deer and bunnies, and the evergreens shedding the packed-up snow from their branches with a "thump" when it hit the ground. If I close my eyes, I can almost smell the snow again -- that clean white smell as much taste as odor.
Nothing bad lasts forever, and one sees things during those times they'd never see otherwise. And, it's all in *how* you see it. When I was touring Europe, my tour partner became terribly discouraged and made grimly glum by the constant heavy rains we experienced. "I just want to go to a spa, soak in a hot tub, get a massage, and *
be* after a full, hot meal". Me? "It's *
Belgian* rain, and I'm lucky to be here to enjoy it. Nothing like Oregon rain!" I thought he'd swing for me.
The finest tool in my kit is a Good Attitude, looking for the best and considering it a privilege to be out in Whatever. When in the midst of such things, I have only to think of my peers and neighbors, huddled around the Tube and living life vicariously. Meanwhile, I'm out *
in* it, living it firsthand. Same applies at home when riding or during my daily 5-mile walks, when rain doesn't stop me. I've not melted yet, and shoes and socks can be changed and jackets dried.
So, good on ya, jags! You and that other cyclist were out in the stuff and got to see and feel things your neighbors can't imagine. The hiss of the tires, the sting of the drops on your face, the mist and the clouds and the rest of it, with memories to keep and play back while sitting around the fire After.
hey that was a good auld spin i'm still here and maybe tomorrow will be just as bad if not worse.
Exactly! Just the way to see it. I'd ride with you anytime!
All the best,
Dan. (...who thinks it is a beautiful day, whatever the weather)
