We had big plans to go skiing over the long weekend, but they were derailed by 44°F temperatures and heavy rain, even up in Maine. So instead we "washed" our bikes.
It was the Co-Habitant's crazy idea (as you have probably noticed by now, he is much more fun than I am). We had just returned from our trip and were getting ready for a quiet night at home, when he looked out the window and proposed that the rain might be a good opportunity to wash the winter crud off the Pashleys. "Let's take them around the block," he suggested.
As we raced down a road heading out of town a half hour later, it became apparent that we were on a joyride. In a downpour. In 44°F weather. In the middle of the night. The bikes were clean and shiny when we got home, and we were soaking wet and shivering. Good times! And now for some hot tea...
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