There’s a good reason the rain in Washington is infamous. It does indeed rain here. Often. No month is off limits for precipitation. No date is safe for scheduling an outdoor wedding. Windshield wipers get a ton more use than sunglasses. We’re the Evergreen State not just because we have a lot of coniferous trees; regular watering keeps everything pretty lush.
With 15 years of practice, Rob and I are rather accustomed to going about life in the rain. Like all good Pacific Northwesterners, we do not use umbrellas. It rains far too often to be bothered with those cumbersome, drippy things. Hoods and hats are much more convenient. We also have winter shoes that are waterproof enough for us to be out and about with dry feet. I can’t remember ever coming home to Woodhaven with wet socks.
So when we saw the forecast for our annual trek to Southern California to visit Rob’s family last week, the repeated days of little clouds dripping water pellets didn’t really phase us. Sure, there was some disappointment we wouldn’t see the sun, but we have a Let’s Find The Sun trip planned for March. Instead, we just packed the same stuff we have been wearing at home – albeit with shorter sleeves – and figured we would roll with the California rain like the seasoned if not slightly smug Rain Warriors that we are.
How quickly we forget.
You would think with over six decades of experience between us, Rob and I would have remembered how different California rain is from Washington rain. How we were clueless there was a difference when we moved which is why we were so nervous. And how it was such a relief – aside from the need to learn about moss and drainage and Rain-X – to discover that Washington rain is so much more civilized than that reckless California stuff.
Somewhere in the soaked jaunt from our hotel’s lobby to our rental car, the memories of California Rain came flooding back.
Like many things about California, its rain is not very subtle. It is hard-pounding, splattery, delugey water that pours from the sky, seemingly determined to make up for months and months of hiatus. It fills potholes and street drains and low spots and cement rivers with aggression and speed. It demands attention and respect.
It is not the polite, dependable, unobtrusive rain of Washington.
Rob and I had plans to meet his folks for lunch at a beach-themed restaurant. We were a bit early so we decided to walk around a nearby indoor mall to kill some time.
On our way, peering through the fastest speed on the intermittent windshield wipers, we saw a massive puddle on a local road causing impressive splashes on proximate windshields. A few minutes later, Rob dodged a car that was driving on the median presumably avoiding some sort of urban lake or traffic jam. After cringing as another car speeding for a sunny day narrowly missed careening into sedan, we were eyewitnesses to yet another car backing into a very irked and vocal driver while trying to get into a parking spot. I’m assuming the rain was too heavy to see out the back window.
Clearly, SoCal drivers are not wise to the ways of damp driving. Sheesh!
The mall and its parking lot were crowded like it was December 23rd. The entrance to Macy’s looked like an elementary school at 2:00 as drivers dropped off or picked up passengers who didn’t want to get wet trotting through the parking lot. Umbrellas were everywhere, and shoppers were running for cover as if the rain drops contained the measles virus. It all seemed a little overly dramatic.
Being the aforementioned Rain Warriors that we are, we parked, smugged on our baseball hats, and casually walked through the parking lot. Good grief, Californians, it’s just a little rain.
Except that it wasn’t.
We were sort of completely drenched by the time we were unpeeling our not-as-waterproof-as-we-thought jackets near the Women’s Shoes. We squished around the mall for about 20 minutes, hoping the thighs of our pants would dry out and wondering if Rob’s leather shoes were permanently ruined.
When it was time to head to the restaurant, Rob dropped me off at the entrance while he parked. We were seated and then reseated because the roof above our table was leaking. Our new table had a great view of another leak dripping through the faux thatched roof into a bucket on the floor. Rob’s folks arrived, his dad toting an umbrella. He’s always been a smart man, my father-in-law.
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| Rob's glasses were fogging up as I took this. I'm not sure his pants ever dried out before bedtime. Verdict is still out on the shoes. |
As much as we thought we had arrived prepared for the SoCal rain, we forgot to pack one thing: humility. We will know better next time…and we will buy some umbrellas, too. You win, California Rain. You win.
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| Rain is so infrequent in Southern California, few buildings have gutters. We assume/hope this one is temporary. |
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