There are definitely fewer people on the bike lanes now that the rains have arrived in Portland. When I see another woman passing me on her bike, we generally give each other the secret smile, as in: “It isn’t so bad out here after all, is it?” Though sometimes, it does feel that bad. Like the other day when I left a workshop in Mt. Tabor, it was raining one of those pissy rains, those dribbly drippy rains where it doesn’t seem bad when you are looking at it from inside. And so I decided not to don my rain pants. On top of that, I was carrying a large white paper bag filled with leftover plates, napkins, and cutlery from the workshop. It’s almost always a bad idea to have a swinging bag dangling from your handlebars. So I had two bad ideas going – no rain pants, swinging paper bag – as I pulled away from the church curb. My helmet, a new Bern all-weather helmet with a nice rim to keep the rain out of my eyes, doesn’t keep the rain off my head, due to its big vent holes at the
