Rain Delay

It's a standing rule for living in the desert. One does not complain about rain.

And rain we've had the past several days.

The result?

Spring poppies in the desert... maybe.

Happier farmers... certainly. This is a good time for rain. The cotton fields lie fallow waiting for new cotton seeds in March.

And it snows in the mountains. Yes... even in the desert.

Here's proof: a snow-covered Mt. Graham behind the new temple being constructed in our little valley.

Another result – more germane to the subject of this blog – it keeps me off the saddle.

I know. There were some breaks in which I could have squeezed in a ride. But the wet roads, intermittent rain and cold combined to keep me off the bike.

The forecast calls for sunny weather to return soon so I'll enjoy the much-needed rainfall and, instead of writing about my riding, I will introduce you to my ride.

Meet my bike. It doesn't have a name. I'm not that kind of a person. I haven't named my truck either. Coincidentally, both are red. Maybe that says something about the kind of person I am. I don't know what.

I bought the bike on eBay about 11 years ago. The seller purchased it new to do a ride from California to New York. He developed some medical problems and could not make the ride so decided to sell the bike. I recall he was a roofer from Eureka.

We compared sleeve length and inseams and consummated the sale.

It was a purchase with no regrets.

It's a Waterford made by Waterford Precision Bicycles in Waterford, Wisconsin.

Most people don't know the name Waterford but do know Schwinn.

Back in the day when Schwinn was a real bicycle company (it's only a brand name now), Schwinn's racing division hand-built competition bicycles that were given the name of Paramount. They were among the best bicycles in the world.

When Schwinn went bankrupt, the guy in charge of building Paramounts acquired that part of the company and changed the name to Waterford Precision Bicycles.

Unlike many of today's road bikes made of exotic materials like carbon and titanium, Waterfords feature a frame made of light weight (but strong) steel tubes, lugged at the joints.

I will tell you about lugged joints someday.

It's a classic road bike with a comfortable leather saddle made by Brooks of England, a company that has been making horse and bicycle saddles since 1866.

Here's a picture.

A few years ago, I made a longish ride from our home in Mesa to Salt Lake City. The fifth leg of the ride was from Flagstaff to Page, Arizona. About 40 or 50 miles into the ride, I stopped for a break at the small reservation community of Cameron.


I was sitting on a bench just outside the Cameron Trading Post with my Waterford leaning up against a porch post. A woman – I think from a tour bus – came up and began inspecting my bicycle.


"Is this your bike?" she asked. I found the question a bit funny since I was the only one around wearing bike shorts, bike shoes, bike gloves, bike jersey and a bike helmet.


"Yes," I replied. "That's my bike."


"I'm from Waterford, Wisconsin," she said, "and my neighbor makes these bikes."


What are the chances sitting on a bench outside the Cameron Trading Post on the Navajo Nation in Arizona of meeting someone who knows the man who made my bike in Waterford, Wisconsin?


About the same, I guess, as four days of rain in the desert in the middle of a drought.


Good riding to you.