Raven’s Rides
Raven's Rides Motorcycle Blog

Tonight we were going nuts in the RV. The wind had died down, finally, but it was just as bitterly cold as usual. We were also out of the important things in life: milk, and hot dogs. One should never run out of hot dogs.

We both sensed an opportunity.

I pulled on my newly-rediscovered rain pants, big thick bulky plastic things that go on over jeans. Next was my jacket with its liner. After I’d fastened that up at the neck, I looked like Michelin Man.

I can’t bring myself to get heated handgrips or jackets and all that stuff. It’s not a sense of wimpishness or anything snobbish like that. It’s that I can’t imagine being wired to my bike. I’m clumsy enough that I know I’d end up ripping something expensive out by the roots, and I just don’t like the feeling of having to be attached to it by anything other than the usual contact points. So, for me, it’s all about the layers.

I started learning to ride in England in January. Not only was it as cold as Lodi, it was often wet, as well. I used to layer up–nylons under leather jeans under wind-proof leggings; a sweater, leather jacket and then rainproof over-jacket as well. And yes, I could still move…though tonight I had to pick the right side of the bike to be able to get on and off.

I had forgotten how much those pants swoosh when you walk. It’s not like you can creep up on anyone.

My visor steamed up immediately. I could pick between a cold nose and vision (visor up) or foggy vision and warm(ish) (visor down). I alternated. On the way back we had to wait for one of those interminable freight trains to go by. My breath steamed as the cobwebs froze and fell off.

It felt like those early days of riding, the sense of being a pioneer and adventuress. The hot dogs were good, too. ;)

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