Day 20: In my day

Day 20 miles to/from work: 27.0
Total miles for S4S: 517.4

In my day we didn't have no rocks. We had to go down to the
creek and wash our clothes by beating them with our heads.
                    -Barry Blyveis, Washington Post Style Invitational 

Gray goose. (No, not the vodka—that's Grey Goose. Nice choice, by the way.) That's what the sky looked like this morning—the feathers of a gray goose. When Silver Beauty and I got on the road, there were a few little patches of blue; but the horizon had mostly that gray, feathery, textured quality. As we rode, the blue evaporated into total gray goose. Then it started to rain. It wasn't the torrential rains of Monday, but a gentle, steady drizzle that took us all the way to the office.

Those of you who have been following the S4S project have come to know (and love, I'm sure) my bike, Silver Beauty. That sounds like a horse's name, doesn't it? Although she is my "steed" of choice, that type of name and association would be way too predictable for my tastes. Silver ("Ag" to chemistry nerds and fans of the Periodic Tables of the Elements) Beauty was not capriciously named—or was named with huge caprice, depending on which end of the spectrum you wish to side. Her namesake was a paper clip, derived from the Washington Post Style Invitational [click the link:  just reading the History portion of the Wikipedia entry I was laughing so hard my ribs hurt] contest, "In My Day", in which contestants were to tell GenXrs how much harder they had it in the old days. I really liked most of them, but was particularly drawn to:  In my day, we didn't have dogs or cats. All I had was Silver Beauty, my beloved paper clip. So even though I love my Silver Beauty for all she means as dependable transportation, comrade, and faithful steed, every time I think of her name and the other "In My Day" entries, it makes me laugh.

Almost as soon as I got to work, I watched from my office as the sun came out. It was beautiful and flirted like a buxom barfly. Once the workday was over, the sun disappeared into some cosmic back room, and the sky turned angry—a hissing gray goose. I rode home in rain with high winds. Most of the time I was fortunate that it was a tailwind, but even with that I had to be careful. The pavement was wet and slick, and there was hazardous debris all over the streets and bike paths—dangerously slippery autumn leaves, branches from the storms, pine cones, and walnuts the size of tennis balls. Keeping the "rubber side down" was a greater challenge than normal, in addition to the crazed motorists who acted as though they were driving under the influence of a full moon. My rain jacket was my comfort. Warm. Dry. Cocoon.

Ah... cocooning. Scott got home from Denver, and we decided to ditch our eating-out plans in favor of pizza at home and a bottle of "imported" Colorado Shiraz. We watched the gray goose skies go dark, and were both happy to be home as the rain persisted and we went back to "in our day" with  The Lovin' Spoonful.