When we finished cases, I went to the waiting room to gaze out the window. The skies were dark, and sheets of rain pounded against the pane. The gray haired lady watching the weather Channel told me it wasn't going to let up. Great.
I arranged a ride home, and went back later to load the bike up on the rear of the Jeep. Call me a weiner. I'm a warm, dry weiner.
Labels: Bike Journal