Tell the truth, shall die

It's a shame when a plan is flawed, and that flaw is exposed in a painful manner.

I decided to ride over Scenic Drive this morning. I was looking forward to the quiet roads in the pre-dawn and dawn and the sound of Tuis waking and testing their vocal skills. I had looked at the forecast and the rain radar and was confident of a dry(ish) ride.

Normally, at this time of year, I'm pretty pragmatic with my choice of cycling clothing and will carry a jacket, especially on a morning ride. I also tend to wear full gloves and if it looks like there will be rain, carry a cap and wear booties. Somehow, partly through the ride featuring quite a bit of climbing, and partly through optimisim, I simply donned a gillet and wore track mitts. I decided to ignore the little smudges on the rain radar.

The temperature was around 10 degrees, so that ensemble was the perfect choice with the dry roads and weather I started out in. I even unzipped the gillet a little as I climbed Konini Road and Scenic Drive. As I passed through Waitatarua it was drizzling a little, nothing serious, but it could be seen in my light, I pressed on. Then, just after I passed the highest point on Scenic Drive, the heavens opened. They delivered a bucket load of cold rain, then several more bucket loads. My foolish decision in leaving a jacket behind and leaving the full finger gloves sitting on the sofa was demonstrated in extremely cold hands initially, then body and feet. The lack of a cap made visibility difficult and descending a nightmare, and the lack of booties made for wet, cold feet very quickly.

The western end of Scenic Drive was an extremely average experience to ride due to these factors, the descent down to Swanson, unnerving and my spirits were flagging for the sodden roll back to town. Luckily on the bikepath I was passed by a triathlete who was motoring along at a pace several kilometres higher than my miserable knee knocking. I darted for his back wheel and concentrated on hanging on for the ride. The mouthfuls of water and grit that came from his back wheel was a small price to pay for the benefit of speed and having to concentrate on staying there, instead of thinking how cold and miserable I was.

The shower at home was a painful affair and I slowly thawed out. I was a sobering lesson in ride planning and one I won't forget...for a while...