on two feet

One of my favourite things to do on a gently rainy day is to go for a walk.











The pace is always unashamedly slow, meandering in gumboots and raincoat. The smells of nature rise above the usual perfume of the city. I smell soaked cedar, soggy soil, and greenery disturbed by water.

Even at my slowest on a bicycle, I wouldn't get quite this much detail. I lean in with my camera, examining the individual droplets coating every leaf, petal, and stalk.

At the edge of Stanley Park, garden pathways invite, but there are still pockets of wild. Ferns unfurl in dark corners that rarely see sunlight. Moss creeps out across any available surface, glowing the bright green of new spring.

Love the rain. After all, if this wasn't city, it would be rainforest.

rain and leftovers

This is a good example of what I've been wearing to ride to and from work in the rain recently. The jacket resists water up to about a medium shower, after which I start to feel a bit damp in the inside of my elbow.

This jacket has a liner to make it warmer in the winter, but I must admit I do miss my wool jackets whenever I'm wearing it. More layers have to be added underneath and I feel kind of like I'm bundled up without good cause to be bundled up, considering that it's above zero. Is it weird that I'm a bit jealous of all those cities that have spent all winter under a few feet of snow?

After stopping for dinner at a tiny Mexican restaurant in my neighbourhood (truly Mexican, as in Mexican proprietors and tasty non-Taco-Bell eats) I hung the leftovers on my handlebars for the remaining few blocks home.

soggy once again

Rain overnight transformed the city for the second time in 48 hours, cleaning away the white and returning us to our regularly scheduled grey. The temperature was all of 5 degrees when I rode to work but felt positively balmy in comparison to the first half of this week. Another realization really hit home: experiences are all relative. If you've never ridden below 10 degrees, then 5 will seem a bit crazy, but after motoring happily through -5, it seems pleasant and mild.

There was still slush on the ground, especially through the short 1-block shared pedestrian/bike connector that I ride through each day. At some points I couldn't go around, so it was interesting to ride slowly through the clumps of muddy, mushy ice and feel the increase/decrease in traction under my rear wheel. It never felt out of control (keep your wheel straight, stay off the brakes), but being able to sense the momentary drop in friction was novel. It felt a bit like testing my limits; I know now that I can slip a bit more while still feeling quite secure and upright.

The ride home, however, was a completely different story.

It was pouring.

And it was so much less awful than I imagined it to be.

Setting: Dark. Heavy rain. Urban. Taking a shared-lane route (albeit one where the lane is 50% wider than usual and meant for sharing). Traffic jammed and cars drifting into my side of the lane to either try to get around or see what's going on. Wearing a wool jacket that doesn't cover my legs the way my rain coat does.

Recipe for misery, right? As I made it through the worst, I checked in with my mental state. Was I anxious? No. Slightly annoyed at silly drivers for bending the rules and mother nature for being inconvient, but it felt very "sheesh, whatever". Was I worried about getting run over/into? No. I'd felt very much in control of the situation, comfortable with my route and aware of the behavior of cars at points where I knew myself to be vulnerable. Was I cold? No. Hands, feet, middle-- comfortable. Was I wet?



Yeah, on my knees.

Knees are not the most temperature-sensitive part of one's anatomy. I almost laughed out loud. In conditions that used to vary between "striking fear into my heart" and just plain dread, my biggest concern was that my knees were wet.

Upon arriving home, I changed into sweat pants and ate a hot cheese & broccoli pot pie, coziness epitomized and soggy no more.

Experience. Relative. Totally.

matinees on rainy days

The weather forecast was looking blah for the weekend, so my friend Melanie and I decided to take in a matinee showing of the movie Never Let Me Go at Tinseltown.

While she hasn't ridden much in the rain yet, Melanie bravely rode to the theatre, even though the skies were threatening to open up. (I did too, having challenged myself to ride through the fall and winter regardless of weather.) By the time the movie was over, the rain had begun. We took refuge in a coffee shop to see if we could wait it out, but it was still spitting by the time our coffee cups were empty.

So we left anyway.

We headed in her direction, along a 98% empty seawall on the south side of False Creek. What a treat! Eventually we split to head in our respective directions home and I enjoyed another stretch of blissfully quiet seawall path on the north side of False Creek. All this while the sky was moody grey and presenting just a medium fall shower.

I arrived home to find an email from Melanie about how positive this cycling-in-the-rain experience had been, despite the fact that beforehand she'd felt like she didn't have the right gear. She been wearing two pairs of tights and simply removed the outer pair after getting home. I'd only been wearing one, but my jacket was longer so compensated for it. Helmets: kept our heads dry. Gloves (the normal kind, nothing cycling-specific): kept our hands warm. Footwear: leather boots were good enough for this level of rain. Shower cap: covered saddle while not riding and covered purse while riding. Dual-purpose!

In summary, she had this to say:
Overall, the experience helped to calm some of my fears of riding in the rain, especially since it took very few adjustments to my regular attire (i.e. throwing a shower cap in my purse).





Experiences like this remind me that even with all the planning and information and advertising in the world, what often makes or breaks the perception of an activity is actually doing it.

Happy cyclists looking just like we always do...even in the drizzle. Ride on!

taking precipitational chances

Over the past few weeks, I've realized that it's more the threat of rain that decreases cycling than the rain itself.



Now that I have a "rain plan", my default behavior in an overcast or drizzly situation is to pack a jacket and go. Last year, whenever it seemed like it could possibly rain, I erred on the side of caution and took the bus or walked.

So how many times have I actually been caught in the rain so far in September?



Twice.

(Not counting the one time it was already raining when I left the apartment.)

Many days, the rain has happened when I'm inside: at work, in a coffee shop with a friend, in the mall. By the time I'm ready to go, the sky isn't falling anymore.

If I'd avoided riding on all those overcast days (and yes, there have been a lot of them in September so far), I might as well be a shut-in. Or buy a bus pass.



The west coast certainly has a reputation for being rainy, but it's more that it could rain at any time, not that it does.



Besides, isn't the world just so beautiful when decorated with water?

of wellies and slickers

Well.

Now that was a success!



Today it rained, as it's going to do for the next 8 months. "Oh, bother," I thought, as I peered out the window in this morning's early grey light. That was followed with: "But wait! Wasn't I hoping for this?"

And I was.

And it was as good as I hoped.



The aforementioned shiny new red raincoat was perfect, save one entirely fixable deficiency. It buttoned all the way up to my neck, kept my upper self dry, and looked chic and very 'me'. The missing piece: since the buttons don't extend all the way to the bottom, the front tended to fall away as I pedaled, leaving my knees exposed (oh, the scandal!) to the rain (oh.). So at lunch I picked up some black elastic and will fix up a small tie that can be fastened when riding to keep pants dry. Very important.

Add gumboots (pictured above), a water-resistant purple plaid laptop bag:



...and a plastic hat...




--and I was golden for the ride to and from work in the rain. Like many, I often feel indignant about the plastic hat, but in this case if I hadn't, I would have had to have worn...

...a plastic hat.

So this one pretty much did the trick.

The next 8 months are certainly looking up.

rain or whine

Today was "girls night" with a few of my coworkers. On the agenda: drinks at Cactus Club and Eat Pray Love at the Scotiabank Theatre.

Having my bike with me, I walked it from the restaurant to the cinema. There's something elegant about walking a bicycle. It's somewhere to rest your hands, a rolling companion that feels more often like pulling you along than needing to be dragged places. (Funny, isn't it?) Besides, Burrard Street, a margarita, and a light dizzle aren't best of friends.

There were bicycles (more than one!) in the movie, with baskets and even the bell itself got a mention. One was very clearly a brown Electra Amsterdam (and interestingly enough for the theme of the movie: not the "women's" version).

By the time we exited the theatre post-movie, the drizzle had been replaced by plain and simple rain. Rain, rain, rain.

Yesterday I had bought a new, shiny, red raincoat!



Unfortunately, I hadn't worn it to work today.



Fortunately, I live about 7 minutes from the theatre and my green non-waterproof coat held up for that distance.



Unfortunately, there's not much that could be done about the water in my eyes.



Fortunately, I had trusty lights and nobody ran me over.

And because this situation was clearly biased towards the positive, I still have more 'fortunately's left over to add:
Fortunately, it's only September, so it's quite warm and I wasn't uncomfortable even when slightly damp.
Fortunately, I was heading to home, not away from it, which makes getting wet rather irrelevant and actually kind of fun.

Last fall/winter/spring, I avoided the ran and went long periods of time without riding. The bus became, once again, my prison. This year, I refuse to...
a) avoid riding because of the rain, and
b) look frumpy and/or sporty in rain "gear" (rather than rain "wear") that I don't enjoy wearing.

Freedom! The way I see, I can choose to embrace the rain or I can whine about it. This is Vancouver, after all: it's part of culture, our way of life. There are chic rain options out there and I intend to find them. For once I'm actually looking forward to the rain so that I can take my new shiny red rain coat (red! shiny! raincoat!) for a spin.

Freedom in all weather. Bring it on!