Wednesday night, the MidWeek. Some who said they'd be there, punked out without even a text. No matter, the ride goes.
Smaller group than usual. The rain starts just as the speed starts. Sheeeit. Well, the bike needed a good cleaning anyways.
The sweeping left turn after Tower Rd. claims two riders. I heard the slip of a front wheel, the corresponding "Oh, fuck..." and sliding bikes behind me. Both riders are up with elbow and hip scrapes, but bikes appear unscathed and both roll. If you're going to go down, a wet road is a preferable surface to a dry.
The group rolls again and now it pours. Through the rollers on Sheridan, still pouring and as we're coming up one of them I see some chaos directly in front of me. Louie swerves off his line, this guy hits and goes over something. I look down and there is a muskrat in our path. Sheeeeit again. I swerve and hop and looking down I see its buckteeth death face. All the more surreal in the pouring rain.
This one experience with the muskrat is even more disturbing because last season the MWC was disrupted by a muskrat in the fort, taking out two riders, resulting in trips to the ER and extended stays in hospital. Louie was one of those riders. I can only imagine the flashbacks he must have had when he saw the muskrat last night.
We get to the top of University and the roads are dry. The sun even peeks out a little. The ride home was fairly uneventful with everyone, for the most part, taking it easy on the wet turns.
Got home, made a salad for dinner and cleaned up the bike.
Note: The muskrat in the photo above was not from last night. Just a photo I found.