On Monday the weather doohickey on my phone said it was going to rain every day for the foreseeable future.
Digging deeper into its predictions, there is a percentage figure next to the depressing little image of a cloud with water coming out the bottom.
So, 65% on Tuesday for example. That could mean 45% of Tuesday will be dry, or that only two-thirds of my region will be wet, but either way there is no telling which part of Tuesday or my region will be optimal for a bike ride.
The more accurate means of weather forecasting I use, which is looking out various windows, is only any good on the day.
And even that method is only as good as the view permits. Mount Ngongotaha is barely a mountain, but it is right next door and hides any biblical weather event that might be lurking to the south.
Wednesday dawned dubiously, but by mid-morning there was a reasonably clear sky. I received a message about a planned ride on a new trail, kicking off mid afternoon, come if interested.
Of course I was interested, and I could make the ride fit around my order-packing duties. So I began to get that itchy excitement that follows once a decision has been made to go for a bike ride.
Then it rained as if it was the sky’s last chance to get rid of all its excess moisture, and I get another message saying forget it.
We might melt. Seemed sensible, ride is off.
Then the skies cleared, my contact claimed she was going to run to the trail instead of riding, and I sort of gave up on the whole project.
But that isn’t so easy, once a ride is a possibility it is hard to ignore it.
I started towards the warehouse with every intention of going directly there, but the bike was in the back of the van, along with everything else required, and I could see beyond my flailing windscreen wipers that the sun had lit up the forest like a beacon.
The ride was on again.
I got going in bright sunshine, climbed a trail in the trees while a light drizzle siftedthrough the canopy, stitched three different downhill trails together in surprisingly dry conditions while I tried to find the rest of the ride party, then gave up and dawdled back over the ridge. After a fairly slippery descent back to my bus, I got changed under the tailgate in a short but intense downpour.
I had only covered about 8 ks, and it was over in 45 minutes. Turned an ordinary day in a pretty good one.
I got damp, but did not melt.