Some time ago I intended to begin a series of posts containing thoughts and observations while commuting on a motorcycle. Alas, the posts composed in my head while on the road invariably dissipate during the day. This series is an attempt to resurrect or synthesize them.

I’m still waiting for the prototype of a flash drive I can insert into my brain and remove to download on my laptop.

Duck on Wheels

Texas is a new tropical state. Atypical weather has inundated us since last fall: first colder than an ice box (snow, ice, argh!!!), now incessant rain. Nearly every day. For months.

I still ride in it. I keep a rain jacket in one side bag and usually wear First Gear overpants which are waterproof (unlike many other gear which claim to be waterproof but are only various degrees of water resistant. There is a difference.) The quilted liner is a plus, despite the tedium of attaching or detaching it.

Boots are another matter. My Dainese touring boots are an interesting mix of water resistant and water magnet. The left leaks like a sieve; my left foot has more than once been submerged in water inside that boot. The right boot is more water resistant, but certainly does not deserve the label of waterproof.

My short Frank Thomas summer boots defy the name embossed on the top: ‘Aqua Master’. Touted to be water proof, they are anything but. I suspect it was a rude joke on us riders by a malcontent employee. Maybe they confused them for scuba divers.

The water repellent Triumph gloves keep my hands dry better than the mesh and leather summer gloves, but they still get soaked through in a hard and prolonged downpour. Reach forward, switch on the heated hand grips. Ahhh………

Yesterday morning revealed clouds in the sky but no rain. In my morning daze at 5:30 am and my brain barely functional with only one cup of coffee, I grabbed the rain coat but forgot to pack the over pants. The balmy 76 degrees F coaxed me into wearing the mesh pants over jeans.

On the train home, I watched with defeat as the rain pelted the windows. I realized I had worn the mesh pants and short boots. I was going to get wet. Drenched.

So be it.

Carefully maneuvering the waterlogged gravel driveway at home, I repeated in my helmet “Greasy, greasy, greasy”. The driveway was slick in places. I stayed in first gear and used my feet to coast to a stop next to the house.

‘Keep hands off the front brake, dudette.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Hot shower, hot cup of tea, blanket.

Clothes were still wet this morning.

Oh, and its raining again.

Quack, quack!!!!

Labels: commuting