You know that feeling when the sky goes from “slightly moody” to “vengeful apocalypse” in about three minutes? Yeah — that was us last weekend.
We were halfway through what was supposed to be a sunny coastal ride when the heavens decided to open up. Not a drizzle. Not a polite mist. We’re talking sideways rain — the kind that feels like being pelted by cold, angry marbles.
Half the group pulled over under a bridge to wait it out. The rest of us? We figured, how bad could it get?
(Spoiler: really bad.)
But here’s the thing — somewhere between the soaked gloves, fogged visors, and hysterical laughter, it stopped being miserable. The road glistened like glass, the air smelled like ozone and sea salt, and the sound of the bikes slicing through puddles turned into its own rhythm. Pure chaos. Pure joy.
When we finally stopped for coffee — dripping, steaming, and looking like drowned raccoons — no one complained. Not once.
Because that’s the magic of it: sometimes the worst rides make the best memories.
So next time the weather turns, don’t panic. Embrace the ridiculous.
After all, what’s an adventure without a little storm?