Dear J—

Let’s talk about yesterday, shall we? Thus far the worst rain I’ve ridden in this year (the year is young, granted) and I decided that I would try the long way to work instead of transferring to light rail, given the rain had slacked off by the time I got to Mountain View – it was a simple matter of getting off the train, checking the weather, and getting right back on while girding myself for the drizzle to come. Because of fairly good history with the rain the day before, I thought that where the San Tomas Creek Trail goes under major surface roads and highways, I’d be fine.


I didn’t bother checking the underpass at Scott, which I probably should have, but the underpass at 101 was flooded out, and unlike the other crossings, where you can grumble and stumble around on the surface using the crosswalks and light-controlled intersections, there’s no getting across 101. So I thought there wasn’t so far to ride, maybe I can make it. I got about ten feet in before it became clear the depth was falling away faster than I had the nerve (or equipment) for and good lord, don’t they teach you anything about not riding/driving into a flood? I turned around and got my feet wet, which was awful enough for the rest of the day but at least I wasn’t swept away or drowned and though that might sound a little dramatic, given the water was probably mid-thigh at the deepest, the rain had swollen the creek from a desultory trickle into a flowing river, rich with ducks and ripped shreds of running storm water.



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