Then Sunday morning, after a hell of a rousing storm that night, went sailing with my dad. It was warm and still when we got there, the wind whipped up and we rushed along at a solid 5.5 knots and the clouds came and I burrowed down in a hoodie cause it got damn cold.
And today?
That is some serious fog, homes. Can I also say, not fun by any stretch of the imagination. Visibility was reduced to about 100 feet, and that was when there were street lights. This is when I finally checked the signs and saw that the speed limit on Royal is 40 mph. So I started hauling ass, sprinting almost the whole way to do what I could to at least lessen the speed difference between me and the car that would inevitable hit me in the fog.
I'm not entirely convinced I survived the ride. I could be splatted across the pavement and this could all just be an elaborate construct of my psyche a whole lot of Vanilla-Sky-Abre-Los-Ojos bullshit blah blah blah. Plus, the fog got all my clothes wet.
The cool morning did make for a lovely ride home. No where to be, no rush so I took my sweet time and rode the full 18 miles. Beautiful clear sky, mid-80s temp, rolling right along. The blazer I'd worn in the morning was nice, because it had a pocket I could stash my iPod in but come the afternoon it was a little warm for a jacket (had to stick with the tights, that dressed need them if I was going to ride in it). So what's a girl to do?
BAM!
I needed that ride, and the tunes that came with. Dallas gets under my skin of a lot of reasons, not the least of which is the horrific dating scene. I miss college where, as just a lowest common denominator, everyone was smart, driven and educated. Far as I can tell, it's rare to find just one of the three around here.
I took my fog route today. Traffic seemed extra light.
ReplyDelete