We shoulda known it was chancy.
Tom H sent out an invitation for a few of us to go on a ride today, in hopes that the predicted rain would hold off, but the fog should have been a sign to us, Tom's Holy Kickstand (Calcestatus Sanctus) ritual notwithstanding:
Or maybe Peter G's stop to re-seat a tire that was out of the track should have been a sign, or his flat a few miles later.
By that time, the rain had started and stopped a few times already, Initially, we felt lucky, and tried to carry on... but it soon became clear that our luck was being washed out, and we changed direction to cut out the end of the ride.
I wound up with a flat soon after the decision (in the fixing of which, I lost a newly-become-favorite tire tool*), and then, about three miles from the end, Martin G also had a flat. He decided, rather than changing the tire, to wait in the rain when I agreed to go back for him (the seats in my car have not yet dried).
We wound up with 36 miles of a planned 48. The dryer has been going all afternoon, and I'm running out of newsprint to soak up water from items that shouldn't go in the dryer.
I'm sure it will make a great story some day.
*Yes, I'm getting another one. It really is that good.
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