Drenched

As a native Portlander, I have a philosophy about rain, to wit: It's Only Water, also sometimes articulated as "I don't need no stinkin' umbrella."

Turns out, that's easy to say when you only have to wait for a bus, or walk a few blocks. When you're riding a bicycle four miles, rain is really, really wet. Your back gets wet. Your thighs get wet. Your feet get wet. Your hands get wet. Rain gets in through the vent holes in your helmet and your hair gets wet.

My living room and bathroom are draped with soggy garments.

Lest you think I complain: no! I had the bike lanes to myself, I proved that I can ride in a downpour, and I feel fantastic! It's only water, after all.