Ah, day one back in the old life. I've been away for two weeks having a lovely vacation mountain biking through the Colorado Rockies (and through a teensy bit of that famous red New Mexico landscape).
I always dread the return after time away - specifically, that point when whatever vehicle I'm in pulls away from the airport and aims itself homeward. After all the fuss to get luggage and either return to a parked car, meet someone, or snag a taxi, it's the first quiet moment ... and it's when that wierd feeling of, "was the whole time away just a dream?" hits me. At this particular interval I always feel acutely that whatever trip I've been on could all have been something I just imagined.
I'm pretty sure the trip wasn't a dream though - it was all fun and adventures and a few good lessons too.
One theory I'm working on as a result of the trip is roughly as follows:
"as any cyclists of group of cyclists approaches within 500 feet of a mountain pass of 10 000 feet or higher (ok, I know, feet/metres, but gosh darn it, I was n the States, using American maps. I digress.), rain will begin to fall on the pass in question. Clouds will appear more threatening and may also produce thunder, lightning, and hail as the cyclists reach close proximity of said mountain pass. The rain will continue to fall no matter how long the cyclist(s) may huddle under any structure present at or close to the pass, including but not limited to interpretive signs, outhouses, or small groves of trees."