Because of planned bike riding shenanigans later, I rode my “good” bike into work today. Before I left, I checked the forecast and noted it called for rain. I looked outside and saw it was rainy. But, because I left at oh-mygawd-o’clock in the morning, my sleepy brain didn’t really register this. I didn’t apply my removable fender and didn’t strap on lights. It didn’t take long for my butt, backpack, and jacket to soak up the wet street spray, grime and dirt. Again, because I rode my “good” bike, I had to carry my things in a backpack because it can’t support my panniers (which are delightfully waterproof). I carefully packed my backpack, like I always do, making sure nothing critical sat on the top of the pack if it were to rain. I did not, however, consider the bottom of my pack getting wet. Like my skunk butt, it too absorbed the water. So when I got to work all wet and soggy, I took a shower and then put on nice soggy work clothes. My shirt and pants are both dappled with polka dot blobs all around them. They are not uncomfortably wet, just a damp reminder of my poor judgement. I’m embarrassed for not having lights. How could I forget something that could really impact my safety? I got to work feeling shameful, but luckily without incident. 

Fremont Bridge Bike Counter: 188 (What? I have been in the mid-400’s for weeks! Can that many commuters really been steered away by the rain? Are that many people skipping out on work Friday to extend a 3-day weekend? Do that many people get Memorial Day off? I am shocked, I say! Shocked!)