And yet more

Sub-title: "Old welcome"

And yet more? - rain. This time I didn't escape. Delayed leaving work, I got the full force - walking to my bike past a drowned rat, on my bike - not wanting to expose the saddle to rain with the resultant consequences; I then started to concede and enjoy as I was already soaked. On the cycle path, the wave of water from the bus was like a bucket of water hitting, free-wheeling in the treacherous water levels, my mud guards filled my shoes with water. Traffic lights against me, I watched giant drops bouncing. Free-wheeling through sewage smelling gullies I hoped for the best. At the narrowest parts of the path across the bridge, there was no hope of avoiding another tidal wave from vehicle after vehicle passing. Poor pedestrians. And then emerging from the partially flooded subway, it had stopped. It was mild, I cycled cautiously, avoided spray from the adjacent urban motorway and corrected skids on wet inspection covers and hoped I'd kept my mouth closed enough through the flood waves. Only my waterproof bag and me were waterproof.
The joy of extreme weather cycling.

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