When your engine fails

A couple of months ago, I found myself on a country road just north of town. Despite the blue skies you see in the picture, the skies to my back were angry, with rain-laden clouds moving in faster than my early-bike-season legs could get me back home.

Mind you, I didn't help my case by continuing my originally planned big loop when I probably should have turned for home two concession roads back. But I'm stubborn that way, and I didn't want to cut the ride short.

Bad move. Because I had just turned south, headed back to town, and was about as far from home as I would ultimately be on this ride. And although up until that point I had been riding in blissful ignorance of the weather, the turn for home brought me face-to-face with reality. Unless I rode like a madman, I was probably going to get wet. Which I hate. Because riding in the rain is miserable. And dangerous. And then miserable some more.

So I accelerated into the crosswind and began the long fight against time and Mother Nature.

Until I felt that little twinge in my left calf. And ignored it. And then felt it again. Bigger this time. No ignoring it anymore: It hurt! I eased back on the pedals and tried to coast it out. No go. I had to stop. So I pulled onto the shoulder and tried to walk it off.

While I was busy trying to fix myself so I could get back to racing the approaching storm home, I figured I may as well shoot the moment for posterity. Which explains this picture. I'm not sure what passing motorists thought.‎ Not that their opinion mattered.

In the end, five minutes of pacing took care of whatever temporary boo-boo I had, and the rest of the ride home was fast and dry. The first drops started to fall as I was two blocks from home.

Some days, you just get lucky.