Suffice it to say, yesterday’s ride lived up to every one of my weather observations, even the horizontal rain. Especially, the horizontal rain.
In the wind and rain sometimes you move through the woods incognito. As I pushed my bike past the rutted gravel on the first hill, a parade of young turkeys wandered through. Wind at my back, I flew down the road through the marsh, and a heron lifted off over my head. Then I was moving past horse farms and cattle farms, fields of soy with the lone stalk of corn betraying last year’s harvest and finally, a solar farm with its windrows of panels reflecting an angry sky.
But turning towards home, it was the ditches—the wildest of gardens— that kept my mind off the headwind. Queen Anne’s Lace, Goldenrod, Joe Pyeweed (pictured) pink and beautiful despite its name, Evening Primrose, Milkweed, Marsh Milkweed, Yarrow, Butter and Eggs, Sweet White Clover, purple clover, thistles, a second bloom of Blueweed, the first jewelweed, purple loosestrife. Something that looks like and may well be phlox, perennial sweet peas and a few straggling tiger lilies have volunteered from nearby gardens.
The hills shelter the wind and the horizontal rain holds off til the final climb, taming the dust on the road underneath the strumming hydro lines. Best ride ever.