Riders in the Storm - Part One

Since I've been writing about adventures in the rain and while our recent Nor' Easter is still fresh in your minds, I thought I would share a short story that Peter wrote about an adventure he had with Emma while the tropical storm, Ernesto, was kicking up. The story is quite a bit longer than my typical post, so I thought I'd break it up into bite size installments. I hope this builds suspense, rather than damage the flow of the story line. 


Here's installment 1:

“You’re going for a ride?  Right now?”
“Yeah, we’re going to Sherwood Island.  We’re hoping to get back before the rain starts.”
“Okaaaaay…”  Sally’s voice trailed off as she looked toward the sky.  Sally was a friend of our family who had just driven over to drop off a present.  As we stood in the driveway struggling to make conversation, I heard the doubt in her voice.  I didn’t pay much attention to it at the time.  She drove away, and I looked over at Emma, my 14-year-old daughter. .  “So, you all set?” I asked, trying to sound confident.
“IIIIII’m ready,” Emma responded, doing her best Spongebob impression.
It was a grey Saturday morning, and the weather forecast looked depressing.  I had gone to weather dot com and it said that the big rain would start around noon and might last the rest of the weekend. We were getting rain from the outer edge of a tropical storm, Ernesto. But it was only 10 a.m. right now. I figured we had some time.
“Let’s get going, then.   How ‘bout if you lead,” I suggested. We hopped on our bikes and coasted down Dave’s Lane.  From the dark sky, a light mist fell, as I wiggled my foot into the toe clips on my pedals.
We leaned left onto Mill Hill, and in a few moments, rolled up to a red light at the Post Road.  As we stopped to wait, Emma turned around and looked at me.  Her eyes seemed to say, “Well?”
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing…” she hesitated. “It’s just that, well, it’s starting to rain.”  It was true.  That light misting had become a drizzle.  We weren’t far from home.  We could easily turn back.
“It’s gonna rain all weekend,” I thought to myself.  “This is our one chance.”
“You can go back, if you want, Em, but I’m gonna go for it.  We’ll be sitting inside for the rest of the weekend.”
“I’m up for it,” Emma shot back.  She mumbled something else, but I didn’t hear her. I liked the new adventurous Emma.  A year ago, she probably would’ve turned back.  Emma and I had been on a biking kick since we’d gotten back from camp at the end of August.  At first we had ridden almost every day. Then the school year started.  Now it was tougher to find the time.