Bad Timing = Near Death

Spoke with the boss about some revisions on a paper we’ve submitted and then said I was blowing the crab shack to avoid getting killed by the impending tornado (see below).  12 minutes of blitzkrieg pace couldn’t out run the storm.  I was sure, based on my Doppler analysis, I had at least 30 minutes.  What started as some light rain quickly descended into a torrent of angry, cold sheets of water blasting me.  I was then double teamed by thunder and lighting, and finally whipped for my insubordination by gale force winds.  Realizing my impending doom I did my first cyclocross dismount of the season and bee-lined it for a park pavilion along Sligo creek.  As I sat there I watched the lightning crack around me as if searching out my whereabouts.  It actually sparked a tree on fire across the street.  Debris from trees fell atop the pavilion – signaling my hiding place.  My death was sure to come quickly and violently.  Several times I contemplated my escape, only to see the flash of electrocution warning me to stay put.  Nearing 20 minutes of terror I cracked and did my first cyclocross remount of the season.  I gassed it and got sideways in the mud.  Great, if I don’t die my wife is going to kill me for crashing yet again.  5 minutes of anaerobic fright got me home – wet, but alive.  For all but 10 minutes of my ride there was a single, comforting phrase I repeated to keep myself:  “fuck, fuck, fuck…”  as in, “fuck, I’m gonna die”.

Hindsight:  I should have just left at 5pm.  Sure the roads are wet and full of debris, but Thor isn’t dropping his hammer anymore.


~ by Indy on June 4, 2008.

2 Responses to “Bad Timing = Near Death”

  1. Now THAT sounds like an adventure.

  2. I bailed at 5:20pm.. just 1 downed tree lying on the Mt Vernon Trail between Humpback Bridge and Reagan National..

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