The fog is setting in heavy; winter is on its way.
My morning commute through the Tenderloin has been road-soaked for the past couple of months (street cleaning?) so I am ready in that regard. I do need to re-waterproof my riding gear, as it’s been around the block a lot this year, and won’t hold water out, I fear.
It’s a love-hate thing with winter now, since I always preferred rainy days before I got a motorcycle. I don’t hate riding in the rain, but there are a few storms I could have done without. Somehow, the worst storms of the year always find me up on 280, slogging through hail and sheets of water and high winds (the WORST) behind some dumbass cager doing 50 in the left lane. Each gust moving me about 5 feet across the lane, gripping the handlebars, wishing I was there already. Worst when I ride the dirtbike; it's like a big sail, with no weight of its own to keep my planted.
Rain just means I have to leave a little earlier for work, and plan on hanging up my frog toggs to drip on the floor in my office. It means dealing with stupider cagers, and finding that I left my pocket open, and all my stuff got wet. It means the Tenderloin won’t smell as bad, and that on those few non-rainy Sundays, the hills won’t be clogged with squids.
Here we go again, time to hunker down.