Downpour

Summary

The narrative describes a person's decision to continue their morning walk despite a downpour, ultimately embracing the experience of walking through heavy rain.

Abstract

The article titled "Downpour" under the subheading "A Walk on Boiling Water" recounts a personal experience of defying conventional wisdom to stay indoors during a heavy rain. The author, Wolfstuff, sets out for a morning walk from their cabin to the airport and back, a distance of 4.2 miles along the Pacific shoreline. Initially, the rain is tentative, but it quickly escalates into a downpour. Despite recognizing the impracticality of continuing the walk, the author decides to press on, reflecting on the futility of seeking dryness and the beauty of the rain's impact on the landscape. The narrative concludes with the author accepting their fate of being soaked and finding enjoyment in the unique experience of walking through what appears to be boiling water on the tarmac.

Opinions

The author holds a personal rule to ignore conventional advice about seeking shelter during a downpour, suggesting a preference for personal experience over comfort.
There is a sense of challenge and adventure in the author's decision to continue walking, despite the increasing intensity of the rain.
The author seems to find a poetic connection with nature, as evidenced by their description of the rain's effect on the asphalt and their own experience.
The experience of being soaked by the rain is presented not as a negative, but as an opportunity for a unique and memorable walk.
The author's reflection on the rain's intensity and their decision to continue the walk indicates a philosophy of embracing the moment and the elements, rather than avoiding them.

A Walk on Boiling Water

Hard rain on asphalt — I walk on boiling water

Rule number one. Downpour means stay inside, skip today’s morning walk; honestly, you walk enough as it is, and getting soaked isn’t worth it. Light a fire or something. Enjoy the warm inside. Read a book.

Rule number two. If caught in one while already on the walk, bee-line it back home before you get soaked.

Rule number three. Ignore rules one and two.

This was one of those rule number three days.

Rain threatened as I stepped out onto my cabin porch. I looked up, trying to judge the clouds and the wind; concluded: I’ll probably make it back dry, or dryish.

Rain continued to threaten for the first half a mile or so, then they began to fall, individual drops — rain so tentative that you could count each landing, some on my face, but the drops were heavy, meant business.

Bee-line it back home?

No, not yet, I’ll probably make it all the way without getting soaked. Here’s to hoping, anyway.

Reaching about a mile (the full morning walk is 4.2 miles — from my cabin to the newly built airport and back, most of it along the Pacific shoreline), word from the initial drops have reached and called on all their buddies and here they come: raining now.

And now, raining harder.

And harder.

Yes, definitely time to bee-line it back home. Still, I walk a little farther, still undecided; but now the rain is really turning it on, graduating from falling to pouring. In scarily short order, I am soaked. Still, I walk (splash) a little farther.

Question: how much more soaked will I be if I walk the full 4.2 versus turning around now? How much drencheder (yeah, I know, no such word) will two extra miles mean?

Answer: About the same soaked. Conclusion: Oh, what the hell, I’ll just tough it out.

Resigned to a very wet fate, I actually enjoy the amazing lashing that the rain is giving the tarmac: so wet and so splattered it looks like it’s boiling. Look, I’m walking on boiling water.

Downpour

A Walk on Boiling Water

Wolfstuff

So, who am I? Really really. I could tell you that I was born in northern Sweden during a snow storm, and subsequently…