2000 Miles of Hell

It's Wednesday morning and I am unfathomably pissed. Quite frankly, I was expecting a day off courtesy those dunderheads down at The Weather Channel. The hysteria of the coming holocaust was such that an automated Frank Devano, Superintendent of Schools, called last night to sound the klaxons and cancel school. Now, I never usually make the mistake of watching meteorologists, which I believe comes from the Latin for "The sky is falling." My past is littered with enough bike outings cancelled on sunny days or staged in freezing rain to have developed a Doppler free attitude. The best philosophy is to simply take what comes. If you are going to ride on March 24th, ride on March 24th. Stop trying to second guess Mother Nature. And, whatever you do, don't trust some pun peddling fat man or short skirt bimbo to guide your activities. Sorry, was that a bit harsh? (If you didn't read sarcasm in that last sentence, go back and try again.) But, God help me, on this day, I wavered.

The weather chick and her partners in misdirection had ratcheted up their rhetoric to a high tenor. The sentences tumbled forth upon one and other in a rush to get out before the zero hour. The men in the field could hardly put together a coherent line under the fist of doom. "Look!" one blathered, "Here is an authentic Weather Channel binder coated with crusty, frozen death. Have you ever seen anything like it, Kristie." Like a shot, the stalwart anchor-chick was running together paragraph after paragraph about a Catastrophic 2000 MILE weather front. Her voice quivered, but did not falter. Comparisons and metaphors were heaped like unused body bags after Katrina to illustrate the magnitude of the system. Not since previous pages of this blog have I witnessed such hyperbole and high drama. I simply couldn't resist. Against my better judgement, I let them set the hook.

"Looks like I'll be stayin home with you tomorrow kids."

"Yes! Will you play with us Daddy?"

"Heck ya! We'll batten down the hatches and play Wii until the power gives out or our retinas burn!"

"Hooray for Daddy!"

So, I wake up this morning to 40 plus degrees and light rains. I could literally chew nails. All I could hope for was a disabling sheet of crusty death on the roads like I saw on TV. Of course, The asphalt was clearer than it has been in weeks. I could have ridden the Cervelo Soloist with 19 inch wheels and a full disk to work. Oh well. All I can do is drain a bottle of Pepto and go about my day, lesson re-learned. Although, I might move my desk away from the window. I think they were predicting an armada of icy comets to rain down from space later in the day. Make sure you wear your booties.

Oh yeah, The Tuesday Grimpeur did make a solo effort yesterday into the mountains. The weather was much worse. Good times, good times. Had I listened to the weather weenies, I might have missed it.

Earnestina loves that stuff.