Long before the alarm clock went off I was aware of the rain drumming on the roof. By the time I turned up at the lodge, the waters were all up and the spirits were all down. Mine moreso at the prospect of going up the hill whilst going down with a cold.
But we loitered for what seemed an eternity, while the mist lifted and dropped until we eventually bit the bullet. From then it was a case of "who dares, swims". The mist held off and allowed us to get a couple of drives in but the rain lashed down. Everyone got soaked.
When we were eventually washed off the hill we headed for home and a much delayed lunch. For my passengers and myself it was delayed even more when I managed to pick up a puncture on the way back. Do punctures EVER happen on dry, sunny days?
When,at long last, I got home the dogs and I were like drowned rats. Hungry, drowned rats. That, however, was easily rectified. Getting all my gear dried and ready for tomorrow may not be.
And as I write it is still chucking it down out there and the forecast for tomorrow is foreboding. By now even Gene Kelley would have been shouting "ENOUGH!"