Rode to work in even heavier rain than yesterday, though for the same reason- this new raincoat really does make it bearable. Anyway, riding up Shire-Oak Hill I was followed by a gigantic artic. It had one of those American tractors with the long-nosed bonnet and monster exhausts that rumbled so deeply you could feel it right through your body. It was towing one of those low trailers bearing a machine that lays tarmac. That payload was also of mammoth size- it overlapped the footpath that I was riding on a bit. I wonder how many women are impressed this sort of thing; there is a primeval wonder about this, just like there is on hearing a 34 litre engine with open pipes go by(say, er, a Spitfire). Picture the whole scene with red tail lights and multiple repeated red specks in the drops on your eyeshades, a deep deep rumble  in your ears and the irregular patter-pat sound of rain on your coat. Red brake lights were the only colours on that hill; all else was the molten grey of wet road and landscape. Most cars are metallic grey these days too.
I wowed even more when the beast turned left at the traffic lights at the top of the hill. It had eight wheels at the back of the trailer, they steered right as the front turned left. More "WOW"s, it cleared the kerb on the tight turn by inches (a few). That was the climax in my transport-porn experience today.
It’s the original meaning of heavy-metal. Are things like this gorgeous, or is it just me?