Rode up the Schuylkill River Trail and the paved part of the Wissahickon trail, but didn't dare brave the muddy dirt trails after so much rain. About 22 miles in all. The Schuylkill River was about ready to burst it's banks, completely flooding all of the lower walkways along the trail. On the Falls Bridge, I rode by what I think was a dead beaver, although I've never seen a beaver in the area. The thing was huge, like the size of a dog. When I came back the other direction it was mysteriously gone. Animal Control working on a Sunday? Or maybe someone just rolled it off the bridge.
Getting back into town, I cursed the mobs of amateur drunks bussed in from the suburbs to fill all the bars and vomit on the sidewalks and stagger drunkenly into busy streets in honor of St. Patrick. Fortunately, I noticed one of my favorite little bars, Grace's Tavern, was nearly empty, so I locked up the bike and enjoyed a burger and some beers while reading Salinger's "Nine Stories" and listening to the 70s soul they were playing. If there's a better way pass some a cloudy afternoon on your own, I can hardly think of it.