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I rode home in the rain today, which is actually an activity I quite enjoy, providing that it is warm rain, nto cold rain. I really love riding in conditions and situations that other folks find far from ideal. Hella hot, major hills, rain, bring it on. I can even add snow to my bag of tricks. I can't say as how I love ice or strong winds, but rain and hills I definitely love.

I've decided my favorite hills are the kind you often find offroad…very sharply steep, short hills, where you flog your way to the top in your bailout gear…you reach the precipiece and you're practically standing still, then you come down the other side “whoooooop” like the descent of a rollercoaster.

Though if I'm roadie-ing it, I love long, gradual hills with a gently curving descent. Nothing like swooping around big, elegant turns barrelhauling ass downhill so fast your tires sing against the asphalt.

Back to the rain, however…I didn't used to like rain much. Then I got some fenders, and it revolutionized my riding life. It's a lot easier to enjoy the vagaries of nature when you don't have mud seeping down your buttcrack and infiltrating your facial orifices. Now, most of what water hits my face and back is coming straight down on me from the sky, rather than blowing back up at me off the streets, courtesy of my tires.

I rode my old mountain-bike today…I had a premonition of a wet afternoon, and my Schwinn doesn't stop for crap when the brakes get wet, and I don't have fenders on the Burley…I have to change out the brake calipers and the fork before fenders can become a reality for that bike. It seems like when all else fails, my mountain bike is a constant I can rely on. Kind of like my Aunt Debbie's old Camaro. She had that car forever…still owns it in fact. It's a 1968, and she bought it when it was about 5 years old and has had it ever since. When other stuff would be broken down, the Camaro would fire right up. It's easy to become quite attatched to a reliable ride, be it an old Trek or an old Camaro.

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