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Back in my out-riding-50-100-miles-every-Saturday-and-Sunday days I learned not to believe the weather report. What I've come to believe is that it can be fairly solid in the middle of winter and in the middle of summer, but in "swing" seasons like spring and fall the accuracy drops off dramatically.
As they say in meteorological circles when they think nobody can hear, "the best predictor of tomorrow's weather is today's."
My motto for riding and being prepared for weather this time of the year is "if you don't put it on, you can't take it off". Therefore everyone laughs at me that I'm "overdressed"
I left Evanston at about 6:15, just drizzling, then WHAM the firehose let loose.
When we're out sailing we call the weather radio the "box of lies."
I made a deal with Mother Nature, dropped a fortune on offerings and sacrifices and then she totally iced me out. Blew me off. Rained on my parade. I thought I might die, when i couldn't catch my breath and was drowning in her stormy seas, her tears of fury.
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