Originally Posted by
fletchh
There was a fellow talking to himself in a bus shelter, but that is not unusual. He might have been speaking to me, but I don't hear well with my stretch hood on. When I retire, I may take up residence in a bus shelter and speak to people as they come in, or to myself when no one is there.
Wow -- a revealing bit of introspection, there.
Rainy commute, but the truth is that I love rainy commutes. Part of that is the brevity of the ride; another part is that I feel I've finally figured out how protect my bike, and my person, and my stuff, from the rain.
I've put a couple of hundred miles on my B17 now, and it's fully broken in. It's got that ever-so-slight hammocky spring to it; and when I took a look this morning I noticed the sit-bone impressions. Yep -- she's all mine.