Rain and Simultaneous Flats

Last night in Dolores Colorado we turned off the RV’s air conditioning to listen to the plink plink of rain on our tin roof. It was soothing and restful after my longest, hardest day. Rain wasn’t very soothing when I got up at 5:30 this morning still hearing the plink plink of a cold summer rain.

We figured six to ten days of bad weather on Martin’s Ride and we’ve only had one soggy day in Tennessee. Today’s Colorado soon to be Utah rain was steady, stinging and cold. After twenty minutes everything is soaking wet. The key is to keep moving, keep legs pumping blood to lungs, heart and brain. Pretending to like riding in the rain is another important psychological trick. “I prefer cold over hot,” I keep reminding myself this morning as my feet moved from soaked to numb.

Brain joined me for our soggy morning. We were keeping it interesting, moving well and staying as warm as possible. “When we see Jeremy and the RV I need to change socks because my feet are freezing,” Brian said. I understood. My borrowed wool socks were soaked. My feet were cold too. We came around a bend and started to descend. I took off my glasses because they were water logged. I couldn’t see my Garmin, but I bet we were going twenty-five mph when I heard a gun shot under me.

Slowing a skinny tire bicycle on a wet state highway after a blow out so loud you can hear it can be a challenge. I steadied nerves and leaned on brakes. The bike slowly lost momentum without losing its now flat back tire. Brian pulled up in front wondering why I stopped. He looked down to see his back tire flat too. We couldn’t see the RV and Jeremy’s cell didn’t pick up. We started to walk before I realized we should just change the tires.

Changing tires is right up there with stretching canvases as an activity I HATE. Standing soaking on the side of a busy state highway makes it a truly hated task, but I set about changing first my tire then Brian’s. I remembered, with fond nostalgia, how every other car stopped in Arkansas whenever we were stopped. People just wanted to make sure we were good to go. No one stopped or even slowed down all that much this rainy Colorado morning. About the time I finished my flat Jeremy rolled up. We threw the bicycles in the truck.

“I’ve had it,” I said. I was so cold I wanted to crawl inside a comforter and stay there for a week. Rain zaps energy and will. I do like riding in the rain, but it is impossible to stop for a half an hour and then start again. Brain was so cold his hands shook while he held his tire for me. Looking down the highway it looked like rain for the rest of the day. The radio said, “Scattered thunderstorms this morning followed by isolated showers this afternoon,” making me wonder about the difference between scattered and isolated.

We felt isolated, cold and hungry. Riding in the rain is tricky. You sweat but are cold so it is easy to NOT drink as much water and fuel as needed. It is easy to become dehydrated, tired and cranky. We weren’t nearly there this morning, but stopping for forty-five minutes locked my still recovering muscles and my day was over. Brian didn’t protest.

We rode thirty miles in a driving rain before nine thirty. Instead of driving to our hotel Jeremy suggested we go to Arches National Park. The otherworldly Arches National Park deserves a post of its own. Nature may be our best sculptor.