Rode to the bus today. This weekend, today's forecast was for clear skies, no rain, and lows near or above freezing. So I planned to ride today. But last night our internet connection pooped out (editor's note: it's still gone - I typed this in WordPad last night to save it until we return from the Oligocene, and I brought it to work [early] with me on a Pleistocene USB thumb drive so I could post it before I started my day) so I couldn't check the weather online this morning. Instead I flipped on the telly to listen to a local weather guy. He said, "There'll likely be some patchy fog this morning."
It didn't look too foogy from our place so I determined to go for it. I have to cross Indian Creek on my way to the bus and I figured that'd be the worst of the fog. But it never let up the whole ride. "Patchy fog" nothing! The "patch" was roughly the size and shape of the entire Treasure Valley.
And since it was below freezing, the fog started to freeze to the leading edges of everything: toes, shins, fingers, handlebars, head tube, fork legs, front brake, seat post . . . even my crotch was covered in ice. I always figured that Kate was just being sycophantic when she talked about my manliness but maybe there's really something to what she says if it is indeed a leading edge.
So yeah, fog. I didn't think the visibility was all that bad, but one of my bus buddies said, "You RODE in this?! This is the worst fog I've driven through in a long time!" Hmph. I guess that's the difference between enjoying 17MPH and being frustrated and stressed by averaging 30MPH. But suboptimal weather notwithstanding, wives and mothers need not fret! I broach the visibility topic because Jean, a gal at the office who lives along that bike route, passed me syndirectionally this morning on her drive (and I don't care that you can't find that word in your dictionary, it should be there because it's a cool word regardless of its origin in my brain). Unfortunately Jean describes herself as a horrible judge of distance so I have nothing quantitative here, but that's almost beside the point. She told me that she saw me (lit up like a Christmas tree as usual with three rearward lights and two forward lights) before anything else and at a distance that made it easy for her to comfortably adjust her driving to accomodate my presence alongside her. This corroborates Tyler's observation a few months ago that he could see me a half mile away from his house as I rode away - until I crested a hill. But Tyler knew I was there and was watching me. Jean was driving in fog and wasn't necessarily anticipating a cyclist, but she was still able to see my lights in plenty of time. So good then.
2 comments:
"Syndirectionally" can join the likes of "Syntique" and "Poodooby" as a word that should be added to the dictionary immediately.
Another note about yesterday's ride: I just spoke with Dale Ann, another coworker and bus buddy of mine, and she told me that she could easily see my rear lights from her vehicle and gave me landmarks. Before turning away, she could see me easily for a quarter mile through the fog. Excellent.
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