We are home from the bike race. It began in Sausalito, where weather was not exactly great for cycling. (It’s great for our rain problem, though.) I was wearing silk underwear, a warm turtleneck, a pile vest, a pile jacket, and a rain jacket over that. Along with gloves. I was still cold. We then took off to drive down to 92 and hit another spot, at Tunitas Creek Rd, so we could cheer them on there. The rain pretty much stopped while there, but by the time we returned to the car my hands were numb. From there we drove to Santa Cruz, where there was a quick and cold downpour (with a bit of hail), and then finally saw some blue sky for the end of the race.
Compared to today, a cold pit is nothing, I suppose. Still, a cold pit makes for a cold oboe and cold hands and whiney oboist. Go figure.
I love watching the cyclists do their thing. They really are quite amazing. And I am not even touching my oboe today. So there.
