And it's even better news that it doesn't seem to be chasing cyclists into buses or their cars.
I indulged in my usual Tuesday ride to South Pasadena today. Rain had fallen steadily since midnight, but by 9:30, when I left, it had diminished to a regular but gentle patter. Coddled in wool, I soon removed my jacket and rode on happily through the sprinkle.
And I wasn't alone: Fourth Street bore, if anything, slightly more cyclists than usual—and many of them, if I may judge by the cut and cost of their attire and the kinds of bikes they rode, were middle-class people on the way to work. And there seemed fewer cars. When I cut north through Larchmont Village—I have a soft spot for the place—several riders were pedaling into it ahead of me, and a number of parked bikes indicated that the rain had had little deterrent effect. The sopping streets carried me to Buster's Coffee and my meeting with Chuck Schmidt without incident.
When I left to go home, it was raining hard enough that the application of water exceeded the self-drying property of well-made wool, so I finally put on the rain cape. It rained steadily all the way home, but, nose and toes aside, I stayed dry. The air was cool and fresh-smelling, the light gentle, the reflections on wet streets endlessly intriguing.
The bike, of course, has fenders, and a dyno hub meant that I could run my lights without fear of depleting batteries. The pannier kept my various waterproofs handy as the weather changed, and…"a good time was had by all"!