15 August, 2009

She's t'ick, b'y, she's t'ick.

It's a funny sensation when we get fog here. Depth of winter- usually coolish mornings and fairly high humidity. It just doesn't seem the right combination from what I grew up with in Nova Scotia- just ask Dee or Bluenoser. And unlike the Canadian East Coast where the fog swirls in from seaward, this is land based fog. When you go down along the beach here, there's not so much as a wisp of that ethereal cloud.

The fog I grew up with reminds me of Carl Sandburg's poem

Fog

The fog comes
on little cat feet

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

And because it's land based fog, it doesn't have that salty tang when you encounter it. And it just sort of appears- no rolling bank of grey advancing. It's like somebody had a giant aerosol can and decided, "Yep. That looks like a good spot. Let's just do a little bit of water vapour graffiti across this field and over the road."

It's thick- after about 200 metres in the fog on Thursday morning, my glasses had so much water on them I may as well have been looking through that pebbled glass they put in bathroom windows. And it ends almost as abruptly as a slammed door. One moment you can't see 20 metres and the next it's clear as.....Makes me really glad I have good lights front and rear.

Race day tomorrow- should be interesting; the forecast is calling for fog.

Dee and Bluenoser- here's hoping your day on the 50k Loop is crystal clear.

Cheers- ride safe
BoaB

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