The weather forecast said we were in for an atmospheric River, a massive water dump that would net us up to 2 inches of rain in the first twelve hours.
No matter. Coffee Outside was being held at Irving Park, a park with several covered areas and within riding distance of home. I hadn’t been in a couple of weeks due to health issues, and decided I’d go. It was pouring when I left, and pouring the whole way there. I was glad to find a small group already collected at a couple of picnic tables, camp stoves running and water being heated, coffee beans being hand-cranked.
(Photo: Portland Parks & Rec. — taken on a much warmer, sunnier day.)
I pulled in and enjoyed seeing familiar friends and a couple of new faces I hadn’t seen before. We talked, laughed, shared stories, sipped coffee and helped ourselves to a bowl of leftover Halloween candy. (Sour Patch Kids doesn’t pair well with hot coffee.) Meanwhile, the wind picked up, the rain got heavier, and leaves were ripped from trees to swirl and fall to the ground to make a thick carpet of red and gold. I was enjoying myself, but could feel my energy dropping. After an hour or so, I knew it was time to head home.
My rain gear, some of it over thirty years old, held off the worst of the rain and damp, but I could feel leakage through some of the front-facing seams after being pelted with huge, heavy raindrops for half an hour. My hat and gloves kept me warm enough to avoid the worst wet chills. By the time I got home, I was soaked and tired, glad to be home and happy I’d gone.
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