Rickshawing in the rain

I recently got a shout out from the American Meteorological Society's blog in response to this post. (Executive summary: I jokingly speculated that the wisdom of pedicabbies may somehow factor into the algorithms that meteorologists use to predict the weather. The AMS blogger affirmed that meteorologists do in fact pay attention to the observations of pediabbies as part of their data collection process.) I guess this makes sense, right? If being out in the weather a lot qualifies you, then we pedicabbies should be experts.

Speaking of being out in the weather, this brings to mind a question that I get asked a lot: "What do you do when it rains?"

In these four months that I have been working outdoors full time, I have not missed a single day's work because of the weather. And don't forget, this is New Orleans we're talking about! There have been plenty of days when I didn't manage to get in a full eight hour shift, but I've always showed up for work. Even on the wettest of days there have always been enough breaks in the rain to give me brief windows in which to ride.

As long as I can keep luring people onto the trike, I try to keep moving. The week before Mardi Gras I took a couple on a 20-minute ride in a downpour so fierce if felt as if there were a big fire hydrant in the sky hovering over our heads.

We have two types of canopy available to cover the passenger seat. One is open at the front, and doesn't really offer much protection; the other is a zip-up cocoon kind of thing that is quite an ordeal for riders to get into and out of. With both types, the added wind resistance is like having another 200 pound passenger on board all the time. Naturally, it takes time and effort to mount the canopy and take it down. All that to say that I hardly ever bother to use a canopy anymore. After all, if I don't get any protection on the front seat, why should the guys on the back, right?

If the weather gets bad enough that I can't get anyone on board, then I take cover and wait it out. If I'm lucky enough to be in range, I try to make it to Riverfront Restaurant on Decatur, where they give me free coffee, and the waitresses spoil me. "What can I get you, sweetheart?" they say. "Would you like a refill on that coffee, darling?" (It's a New Orleans thing, I think.)

On rainy days I often struggle to remember why I like this job so much. Sometimes I barely make enough money to cover the cost of fuel for the commute back and forth across the lake. The worst part is the cold. You have no idea just how cold 50 degrees Fahrenheit -- or even 60  or 70 for that matter -- can be until you're out in it and soaked to the skin for hours at a time! As long as I stay dry, it's not hard to combat the cold; I just start pedaling furiously, and pretty soon I'm generating my own heat. But when I get drenched, the only thing that helps is to go home and take off my wet clothes and soak my already wrinkled skin in a steaming bath.