|Dripping bike spokes at Warde Hall bike rack. Not my bike--I parked inside.|
Well, I rode with lights on, but didn’t have any dicey moments. A student who drives down 380 from north told me she feared for her life at one point, due to thick fog that prevented her from seeing traffic as she barreled down the autobahn.
Me, I tool along quite residential streets at modest speed. The fog limited visibility, but didn’t make the world invisible. I had to stop three times to take out my handkerchief and wipe my glasses, but that was all.
|Corner of C and Blair's Ferry this morning at 8 a.m. Time for lights.|
|Web I saw leaving house. |
Don't fret, sister, no spider.
The air was actually fairly pleasant. When wet air is warm, as in a summer afternoon when both the temperature and humidity are above 90, it feels “used,” almost like you’re sharing the breath of a warm-blooded, and very damp, dragon. When wet air is cool, high 40s, for instance, and there is a mist in it, it moistens the nasal passages and feels a bit refreshing going down. It was that kind of morning.
When I got to work, I parked inside. I though water might collect on Francis otherwise, and the drops on a bike parked in the bike rack seem to substantiate my conjecture.
I’ll put some chain lube on when I get home this afternoon, but for the most part, the damp ride wasn’t as wet as I thought it might be, nor as scary as it could have been.
And it was nice to back on the bike.
|Thursday--sunset. My wife and I are out on a stroll. the clouds start to break up, but overnight they will return at surface level. Not foggy, but cloudy at noon on Friday.|