If there’s one thing that will wear on my patience after a while, it’s humidity. There’s something about being damp that eventually makes me want to crawl into the chest freezer in the basement–or move to the high desert. Maybe it’s all of the body hair (thought my beard seems to like it…go figure).
And we’ve had more than our usual share of the damp stuff lately. With more than twice the usual rainfall for June and a stagnant mass of warm, humid air camped out over the Midwest, there’s nothing right now that’s not a bit damp, if not downright sodden.
With the warmth and the dampth (a new word?), I figured I should get out early if I was going to get out riding at all this weekend. So I took off alone for a road ride (but then most of my rides are road rides, aren’t they?) early on Saturday morning, when it was so foggy that I needed to run my lights just to not get run over on the way out of town. But I do love riding in the fog.
Headed east into the rolling farmland, stopped for coffee, and took a brief pause at my parents’ house on the way back into town.
But then I spent nearly all day Sunday just laying around the house (both metaphorically and sometimes literally).