Not so bad really

I've got my suspension locked out and my weight out over the front bars; I'm riding hard making stop lights, skirting the morning zombies trudging into coffee shops and monstrous garbage collecting trucks attempting to block my way. Its raining hard, so hard that my mouth half ajar from physical exertion is acting as a kind of water catchment system. Soon I'm on the coastal road, greeted with views of the bay and its islands held captive within a voluminous grey blanket of cloud and rain. I've decided that the strong greens and greys of spring are not a bad mix; experience has changed my mind, or perhaps nostalgia did the trick. Some of my best rides have been colored in grey and green, my best memories.