Fifteen minutes later, you’re pedalling through a downpour so biblical you’re checking the forecast for frogs.
Welcome to the reality of riding where the forecast is just a suggestion and experience is your only real meteorologist.
The forecast is a lie
We’ve all heard it: “No rain in sight for the next 50 kilometres.” What they meant was: “Except for the one rogue cloud that’s somehow tracking your Strava route like it’s got beef.”
Forecasts might work for casual walkers and indoor brunchers. But for cyclists? The weather doesn’t just change—it attacks.
Reading the rain radar like it’s a tarot card
You squint at the radar app, tracing shifting blobs of colour like you’re decoding the Matrix.
“There’s a cloud… okay, it’s northeast… maybe it’s breaking up? Or reforming? Is that my town or Sweden?”
Meanwhile, your mate Dave doesn’t check anything and somehow never gets wet. Dave is a weather witch. Burn him.
A “Dry Day” is a trap
Cyclists don’t trust a sunny forecast. We respect it like a cat respects a cucumber: with deep suspicion.
So we pack:
- A rain jacket
- An extra rain jacket
- Waterproof socks
- Existential dread
Because if you don’t bring them, it will rain. That’s not superstition—it’s science.
Trust issues on two wheels
Your Garmin says “Partly cloudy.”
Your jersey says “Partly soaked.”
Your mood says “Completely furious.”
Every cyclist has had that moment of betrayal: a calm morning ride turning into an accidental aquathlon, questioning why they didn’t just Zwift like a sensible sad person.
The real weather report: Headwind and humility
Let’s be honest. For cyclists, the actual forecast goes like this:
- Wind: Always in your face
- Rain: Begins exactly when you’re furthest from home
- Sun: Only appears once you’re too wet to care
It’s not weather. It’s a training partner with mood swings.
Dry is a mindset, not a guarantee
If you’ve never had to wring out your gloves mid-ride or pedal home with squelching socks, have you even ridden? The real rule of thumb is simple:
Trust your knees. Not the app. And always—always—pack the raincoat.
Just in case.
