Ride long enough and you’ll eventually find yourself on the road, drenched and dreaming of home. Ride longer and you may find yourself dreaming of being drenched. This morning I rode away from the dry comfort of home into uncertain weather, a welcome break from endless days of sunshine and heat. The gray, dim morning– a reminder of cooler days ahead.
The forecast predicted scattered showers, at times heavy, for most of the morning. Knowing I would not be riding far I left the raingear in the garage and opted for the more casual comfort of once water resistant riding jacket and pants. And if things really got bad I could breakout the waterproof rain jacket stored in the top case. In six years I have used it twice.
I have a few rules when riding in the rain.
The first is to become one with the road surface so I don’t become one with the road surface in a physical sense.
Every rain is different and so is the character of the pavement. With so little rain in the past couple months there is a lot of stuff on the road that gets slippery when mixed with water. A few stops to walk on the road, test the friction with my boots, I can get a sense of what to expect in terms of traction. It’s not perfect but does provide clues to how to behave.
Another rule is to slow down.
I’ve talked to more than a few riders who search for tires who offer perfect performance on wet pavement, preferring a technological fix for the weather rather than make mindful adjustments themselves. My personal belief is that no tire available will allow you to ride on wet roads like you do on dry ones. You just need to slow down, replace the desire to lean hard and power out of turns with one built around keeping the rubber side down.
Visibility – my own and my appearance to others.
I’ll stay on the road until the torrents interfere with my ability to see the road ahead. If visibility drops below a hundred yards or so I pull over and wait. And if I feel things are too hectic, or traffic too congested to place myself in a visible position, I’ll pull over and wait for conditions to improve.
The last rule I have is comfort.
I’ll ride wet but not cold. The moment I feel myself begin to focus on my body, the effect the weather is having on me, it’s time to stop and regroup. And I’ll stop as often as I need to. One of the advantages of riding alone—no one’s ego is in play dragging others on beyond their limits.
Anyways, I wasn’t going far. Breakfast was first on the agenda followed by finishing a post titled, Heat, Courage and the Jack Riepe Show. The breakfast part went without a hitch but the writing was delayed.
Superman won out over Riepe. I don’t often see comic books but when I do all bets are off. Someone left a nice one at Café Lemont that I could not pass up. It’s nice to sit with a comic book when a hard rain falls outside.
Just a slight drizzle was falling as I left Lemont on a looping ride around town. A short cut across some of Penn State’s pastureland always provides some amazing views of Mt. Nittany and the valley. Rain and mist make things magical.
Watching the clouds pass, darkness in the distance, I wonder what brings me out on days that most riders choose to avoid. There was a time when I needed to prove something to myself. But now, I’m looking for something else. Maybe a more intense experience. A friend once suggested I’m a minor adrenaline junkie but my careful, deliberate approach tends to rule that out. Standing here, noticing all the details, I feel alive and on the earth. Maybe it’s as simple as that.
The rain begins to fall hard on the way home. Water is pooled on my lap where the riding jacket forms a basin. Pelting water droplets feel like hundreds of little bee stings on my chest at 45mph. The jacket and pants are soaked through and water is running down my back. When I stop to make this picture I can barely see the LCD screen. Rain soaks the camera and I leave it on when I put it under the seat so the water on the lens barrel doesn’t migrate to the inside.
Almost home I stop for one last picture, a reminder of rain and light and wet rides. The risk and discomfort are far exceeded by the rewards of the ride.
There is something special in the melancholia of a rainy day, and you captured it well.
I agree with you on all safety aspects of a rain ride, and I ride as long as I feel comfortable (not being wet and cold that is).
Thanks for this, Steve. Your photos are inspirational, and as I am not a photographer but merely a point-n-shooter, I hope you won’t mind that I often take pictures with your artistic style in mind, although mine often lack the magic atmosphere that you create with your pictures.
I like your rules for riding in the rain. I’d make a big star next to the one about slowing down and “…making mindful adjustments.”
I love riding in rain. Wind, lightning, and rain not so much. There is a silence that seems to descend upon the earth when there is a nice steady rain. It isn’t as profound as when it snows, but it is there. I know a big part of why I ride when it rains, other then to get where I’m going, is to drink in this silence.
I enjoyed this post very much. Thank you.
SonjaM: Thanks for the supportive words about this post. Seems like I have written about the rain many times but it still seems new to me.
As far as photographs go — I am always influenced by other photographers. Any magic present comes with practice and luck!
Circle Blue: I avoid lightning at all costs and am not real excited about high winds. But a nice summer rain — bring it on.
Be safe out in the rain!
Dear Scooter In The Sticks (Steve):
While I found your essay on riding in the rain to be both informative (regarding technique) and enlightening (regarding the man), I am compelled to add three qualifiers for riding in the rain.
A) When you hear the rain against the window, roll over and take a long, appraising look at the sleeping woman alongside you. Divide the miles you are thinking of riding by your percentage of potential hot romance. If the result is a single digit number, leave the bike in the garage.
B) See above.
C) if you wake up alone and are riding to meet a hot squeeze, disregard rain or take the truck.
Many of my acquaintances compare me to the comic book superman. I find no slight in your distraction.
Fondest regards,
Jack
Twisted Roads
I like looking at your pictures to see if I can recognize the spot, like the back of Cafe Lemont. We live right down the street. I recognize too the dirt road through the stadium parking lot/ field, looking at Mount Nittany. I often go that way when I ride a bicycle in or out of town.
As for rain, I enjoy reading your accounts of it more than riding in it myself.
Riding in the rain, you mentioned all the rules I try to follow…especially when on two wheels, three wheels are more confidence inspiring and lead one to seek out deep puddles.
The only hazard I’ve yet to resolved 100% of the time is the visor fogging up, then getting wet on both sides, resulting in a blurry view of the world.
Colorado rain is never warm rain, so one gets chilled to the bone at times if one forgets one’s rain gear.
I think I would enjoy riding in warm gentle rain….
dom
Redleg’s Rides
Colorado Motorcycle Travel Examiner
Rain at 45 is unpleasant. Hail at 60 is worse. They need to make hail gear. When we were close to Arco ID, we had people warning us of a flood and disaster ahead – snow plows in July, washed out streets. By the time we got there, the carnage had passed, but the drive was miserable. When you’ve got somewhere to be, sometimes you’ve just got to ride.
I know you didn’t put a whole lot of stock in the tires, and I can’t say how much traction you gain by switching to a rain tire – but when that storm hit I felt a whole lot better knowing that there was an added layer of protection.
Slow down is the best suggestion. I crashed a scooter a few years back in the rain – I was used to a certain expectation for stopping power. Luckily it was a pretty mediocre crash. I should have been going slower.
Brady
Behind Bars – Motorcycles and Life
http://www.behindbarsmotorcycle.com/
Wow. Loved the writing, the story telling, the whole thing. I haven’t ridden in the rain in far too long.
Agree with your basic rule about just slowing down.
Harv
Modern Rain Gear is good stuff, it allows you to keep your mind on the road, if you’re wearing it.
I can remember using plasitic bags to keep my feet and hands dry. Didn’t work very well…
BTW, Bob and I enjoyed the pig roast at Kissel’s, plus meeting both you and Greg. I got home to WA last week and Bob is still on the road. Scheduled to return some time this year. If I’m back in your area, I’ll stop in again for a visit. Keep up the great bog.
Steve, how are the Kenda tires working for you? Good wet traction? I just put on a third Kenda rear, and I suspect the Kenda on the front will require replacement when this one wears out (in which case I have another, because I won a set at the recent rally)…
__Orin
Scootin’ Old Skool
I picked up my ’98 F650ST from its original owner this past Friday, having decided that I needed to start exploring realms beyond the hundred mile circle my Stella 150 comfortably allows. I was blasted by the windshield the whole way home, so I immediately removed it, then the stormfronts moved in, leaving me to pout behind a window with the bike glistening in the wash.
Everytime the rain broke, I’d run out, wipe the seat clean, and take off, puttering around my usual scooter roads, which I know well enough to make me feel comfortable despite my paucity of motorcycle technique. I’ve been riding my ’72 Triumph off and on this summer, but it’s a beast where I’m more of an irritant on the back of an animal, just trying to keep it going, where the F is a well-designed machine that rewards subtlety.
I had to work, that Saturday notwithstanding in my peculiar career, and so the sun burned, but I had a moment to read through your post in between giving tours, and it was a nice counterpoint to the dog and pony show I had to put on each hour over an otherwise pleasant afternoon.
With that inspiration, and on roads I’ve ridden for decades, I took off again just after dusk, just as the rain picked up again, and resigned myself to coming home looking like a drowned rat in a mishmash of incompatible gear.
Familiar byways make a difference, and rather than that clench of getting caught in a turn that’s tighter than I expected, I could just listen to the sound of the engine, and gently nudge the bars to feel the difference in how the bike responds. My scooter is a vehicle you guide like the pointer on a Oujia board—you just sort of touch the grips when you’re not shifting, and follow the tao of action without action, elsewise, the bike will punish your intrusions. The F needs a little more guidance, a little more oomph in the actionless action, lest I sling off the road in a gentle bend and bounce to a stop in a pasture.
About ten miles out, I felt like I’d had enough saddle time for the night, and I rode back down the longer, straighter farm roads to the Northwest, just feeling the rain and the wind and the surprisingly gentle buzz of an Austrian fire pump engine at work. Rounding a bend a quarter mile from home, I hit a painted turn arrow and the tail swung out, just for a moment, but the bike retained its composure on the strength of mass and inertia where the featherweight metal shell of the scooter would have just flopped, giving me an unwanted battle scar.
“Good girl,” I said, as I consciously willed my eyebrows to gently descend back to a more relaxed position, and we puttered on down the last stretch, just enjoying the sensation of it all, the reflections in the wet road, the tingling spatter of rain, and that perfect quiet moment of isolation at the end of a long day.
An imperfect ride, to be sure, and yet it was exactly right, too.
Mr. Riepe: I certainly like curling up in bed when it’s raining. Always chose that before I started riding.
Your mathematics are too complicated. I’ll have to go with gut instinct.
Superman references aside, has anyone ever suggested you have a one-track mind?
poppawheelie: You have the locations correct. I’ll have to get trickier in my renditions to confuse you.
Rain isn’t for everyone. I actually like going to the beach in the rain. I’m just a rain kind of guy.
Charlie6: I hate fogging visors and thankfully only have to deal with it on rare occasions in the summer. On foggy days more than anything. No good solution.
Brady: I’ve not had rain tires, just the standard issue tires. But I can say that snow tires make a huge difference in traction in the rain. More sticky rubber on the road.
Harv: Thanks for the kind words.
Riding in different weather is always a striking departure from the more generic warm weather experience. From time to time it’s good to feel a bit different on the road.
Hows life in the upper midwest?
WA Tom: Glad to hear you got home safely. How many thousands of miles did you ride?
I have a picture of you and Bob to post and will email a copy to you as well. I’ve just been busy and haven’t gotten around to posting that story yet. The memory of the heat is still distasteful.
I think my longest rain ride was only about 100 miles in warm weather so it wasn’t much of a problem. But if I were doing it like you did I would need some real gear.
Orin: The Kenda tires are fine though I’m not the kind of rider who pushes performance (except maybe in snow) so a tire is a tire is a tire.
I will say the steering wobble with the Kenda tires is more severe but then how often do I need to take my hands off the bars at 27 mph?
They were inexpensive though and I would use again.
Good advice on rain riding, Oh Wise One!
As to your riding in the rain? Maybe deep down you share my Warrior spirit. It’s not so much a matter of proving anything. More so a matter of refusing to be conquered.
It’s quite possible for the mild mannered Bard to have a bit of a steel core.
6128 miles (but who’s counting)and ready to do it all over again – minus the heaat. Will stop for another visit the next time I get close. Always look forward to your next post.
irondad: Your comments about refusing to be conquered and a steel core has raised some ideas for a post. So I won’t say much here. I’ll respond in the post.
Right now there’s no rain and the sun is shining. And I haven’t taken the Vespa out of the garage today. A personal failure.
WA Tom: 6128 is a lot of miles to ride in a couple weeks. Add the withering heat and you have really pushed the envelop.
Someday I hope to do something similar on the Vespa that you did on your BMW. With the riding conversion factor applied to make the riding experience and stress level means I’ll have to ride about 9000 miles to have an experience similar to what you did…..*grin*
Be safe!
Joe Belknap Wall: Thanks for sharing your recent experiences riding in the rain and your F650ST. When I think of expanding my riding circle I come up with a short list of motorcycles that would enable me to push the circle to 250 miles for a day ride.
I can relate to rushing out between storm fronts to do a little riding. And the chance of getting caught in a sudden deluge makes it even richer.
Glad the road arrow didn’t get the best of you. They are amazingly slippery when wet and I surprised not more riders slide out on them especially at intersections. No fun at all.
Your summation of an imperfect ride being exactly what was needed is the whole message of riding in the rain. It’s a matter of expectation and acceptance. A change in those makes the bad good.
Good luck on the F650 and careful with that mean old Triumph!
I like the picture of the mullein (verbascum) plant
This video inspired me to ride today thanks brodie
Glad to help Brodie. Snowing here. Just retreated from an hour of blowing snow. There was a time I would have tried riding in this mess. But that’s now in the rear view mirror. Haven’t even put the snow tires on yet.