Mitch, my mechanic, is in Pasadena, and my car was ready but I was in Sunland. I decided to ride my bike, but it was rush hour. Why not wait and make it a night ride through Angeles National Forest? I figured it would be pleasant and fun. As I started up Big T, the lightening was a little intimidating. I thought of turning around, but I knew what I'd say if TJ were with me and suggested going back, so I kept on going! LOL. A light sprinkle began to fall on the last 3 miles of Big T, but it wasn't enough to affect me, so I continued on. Curiously, there was a terrific wind blowing just before the descent to the big bridge below the dam, maybe in the top 10 I have encountered on a bike, but very little wind the rest of the ride (thankfully). The approach to the stop signs at the top of Big T was realistically the point of no return. It seemed as though the lightening was not getting any closer, so I decided to continue as planned. However, as I neared Clear Creek, the rain began in earnest, and the temperature dropped to 48F as I began to descend Angeles Crest Hwy. At first, it was just a normal rain, but it increased to a legitimate downpour which hampered my vision in the dark, particularly with a significant sheet of water on the road surface and the rooster tail flying off the front tire and into my face. I was thankful for my disc brakes, but I had nothing like stopping power, only gradual slowing. I was in hot weather gear, and sort of kicked myself for not having at least arm warmers with me. The deluge of water began to suck the heat from my core, and I began to shiver. Normally I could warm up by really cranking on the pedals, even downhill, but with the compromised visibility and concern about traction in the corners, I kept the speed down to the low 20's, which was basically coasting or soft peddling with a light touch of the brakes (hoping to keep them ready if I needed to stop). Drivers coming up ACH were mostly idiots, evidently with no idea of how their traction might be compromised by a first rain loosing oil deposits across the macadam. As I reached the signal at the golf course, I decided the brakes were good enough to let me take Crown Ave to the bottom of Foothill, a more direct route to Pasadena, but much steeper than ACH. With constant application of the brakes, they actually seemed to dry and be reasonably effective; I had no problem keeping my speed low on the steep downhill. When I reached the bottom, I saw more lightning in the area into which I would be heading, and I considered looking for someone to rescue me and finding shelter to warm up, but, realistically, I realized I would make it to my car long before anyone might get to me. Happily, the rain diminished substantially at that lower elevation, and on the flat roads I was able to ride harder and stop the shivering. Being able to flex my fingers and wrists was also a great relief. I was happy to get to the car, but from Foothill on the ride was more fun than otherwise. Sometimes, cycling is more of an adventure than you might have anticipated! I find that such rides actually enhance the appreciation for the sport, not diminish it.