Choices
In addition to the certainties of death and taxes something else can be added to the list — we always have choices. They may not be good choices. Or pleasant. But they’re always there when needed. Like riding in a little rain.
Since retiring and not facing the changing personality of daily fluctuations in weather I tend not to choose to ride in the rain, snow, or bitter cold. But sometimes opportunity and circumstance collude to tempt me out into the world on a scooter or motorcycle. And on this day, a heavy overcast with barely a sprinkle convinced me that the risk of riding in a little rain on my 2001 Kawasaki W650 was a good choice.
Shelter in a Storm
There was no storm. I was 20 miles from home when I saw the heavy sky turn to rain in the distance. My choice to continue on into the approaching rain seemed, well, unpleasant. I had rain gear but my heart wasn’t into a weather adventure.
I thought about previous rides in the rain as I hopped and danced at the side of the road to pull on my Rev’it rain suit. A faint sprinkle had me wondering if I could out run the weather or if I would be doing a little riding in the rain. If I could get over the mountain and a good way home perhaps I could avoid the water.
No luck. The rain came hard at first and then as a steady downpour. I had forgotten how peaceful it can seem to ride in the rain. Even factoring in the various elements of risk management as the early water turns the oil on the road into a slick coating. Thankfully traffic was lighter than usual so I could plod along with my thoughts.
I could have gone straight home but decided to reward my adventure in the rain with something hot to drink at the Pump Station Cafe. I’ve witnessed the scene in the picture countless times in varied weather. And I keep coming back because I find a seductive sense of peace in that place. Perhaps it’s my own version of the bar in “Cheers.” I know everyone and they know my name. I won’t think about how much money I spend there.
What a fine day it was to do some riding in a little rain.
With experience behind me, the right gear to keep warm and dry, all senses running on overtime keeping my situational awareness at its peak, I find riding my Vespa 300 in a hard rain exhilarating. At 74, I’m fully aware of the hazards and risks, but also confident enough (not overconfident, I don’t think!) to navigate without panicking when the going gets dicey. Arriving home or at a destination after a day of it is a wonderful feeling of accomplishment and even exultation at a job well done.
Your description of riding in the rain mirrors mine. That feeling of accomplishment keeps me going out again and again in weather less than perfect. I’m only 70 now but I have made some changes. I’ve pretty much quit riding at night. My aging eyes aren’t what they used to be in low light.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts on the subject. I appreciate them.
Hello Mr.Steve,
So when I see a photograph of your 650 it always reminds me what a motorcycle should look like and be.I just don’t have the iron butt for across the state’s travels. I still remember watching Then came Bronson as a kid and going down that long lonesome highway..Heard once some feel the rain others just get wet. Happy trails sir. Dr.Don
I was in the garage a few minutes ago admiring the W650. It’s wet outside but I would ride if there weren’t 100K people heading to Beaver Stadium right now for a noon kickoff of the Penn State game. Too many crazy drivers out there right now. Maybe after the game starts.
I like your comments about rain. Yes, I feel the rain!
Hello Steve;
I can really relate to your post. I used to actually seek out rain when I was riding my Vespa P125X. Not heavy rainstorms mind you, but just steady light rain and of course drizzle. I clearly remember the time one summer when I was riding my scooter in the rain in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The rain stopped, and the sun came out. It’s warmth gently dried me and my scooter while I continued my ride. Unforgettable.
To quote Scott’s comment: “Arriving home or at a destination after a day of it [riding] is a wonderful feeling of accomplishment and even exultation at a job well done.”
That is the gospel truth Scott, and that is one of the things I miss most about not having a motorcycle/scooter anymore.
I’ve had similar experiences on my Vespa in the rain as you did in the Blue Ridge Mountains. It’s a great feeling to be riding in a steady rain and see the sun come out and dry the world. And you are absolutely right about Scott’s comments — it is the gospel truth.
I hope things are going well for you.
Commuting on two wheels is a very special kind of riding adventure, with its traffic and weather challenges. I don’t miss the office, but I do miss commuting. Maybe I need to find a new reason to commute. Wishing you all the best from Copenhagen as our Amsterdam + Copenhagen vacation draws to a close.
I hope you’ve had a fine vacation.
Are you retired now or on some new career adventure? You spent a lot of time studying for law exams when you moved. I figure you have something going on.
And no more Vespa?
I would say I’m semi-retired, still practicing law. I enjoy helping clients. And yes there are no longer any Vespas, just my amazing Brompton bicycle.
I am fortunate that my love of Vespas is sustained vicariously by your continuing adventures for which I am truly thankful.