The sun was just starting to break as a white waffle of steam rose through the small slit in the top of the plastic coffee cup which was sitting on the table. Even though there was little to no breeze at the moment, I found myself fixated on the steam as it snaked its way left and right and continued to climb higher and higher. Almost as if it was searching for the correct path in life. Eventually the white translucent vapor reached a point of no return where it gradually dissipated into the still damp morning air. Watching the cloud vanish I found myself awkwardly acknowledging that it was far colder this morning then I wanted to admit. As I continued to watch the boiling hot coffee escape its cylindrical container, I realized that I was unconsciously rubbing my frozen hands together. Of course given that the air temp was still hovering in the low fifties, this little bit of action didn’t exactly spark a sense of warmth.
“Really nice bike,” a voice hollered from the corner, “I didn’t know they made these with saddle bags”.
Turning my head towards the parking lot, I found a man standing next to the ST3. The bright red bike seemingly calling out for attention in a row of nondescript black and white four-wheeled vehicles. With a grin, the man ran his hand over his beard before smiling to himself.
“Yeah, it’s a great bike” I offered. The man smiled at me and then at the bike.
“I actually just sold my Beemer,” he announced, “…been getting to work on an ‘ol dual purpose lately, but thinking about getting an FZR”…
I nodded and took a small sip of the boiling hot coffee. The man continuing to bounce his attention back and forth between me and the bike.
“Feels a lot safer riding when traffic is backed up on the freeway… and traffic is always backed up,” his voice trailing off as he peered at the bike once more, before adding, “but I’d be afraid to ride something like this. Wouldn’t wait to lay it down…”
Quietly I took another sip while my mind tried to imagine what it would look like if I laid the bike down in traffic. In an instant a sense of dread and horror came over me. Sucking whatever warmth had radiated out of the coffee. “Not a fun image,” I offered as I desperately tried to warm myself up again with another sip.
“Nope,” the man said, this time with an odd bit of mischievousness before took a verbal left turn, “I bet you’re pretty cold out there today.”"You could say that,” I offered with a nod, while internally pondering whether or not it had actually been a good idea to get up this morning determined to get a ride in… It certainly seems like its been awhile since I last got a ‘good ride’ in. Of course for that matter it also seems like its been awhile since I just got ‘a ride’ in too. Over the past three months a variety of real world events had superseded what I’d like to think of as the ‘usual’ weekend riding routine. But then right now I’m not even sure what ‘usual’ is either… If I’m honest about it, the truth is that its been many years since I’ve done so little riding in the back half of the year. For the first time in ages I actually didn’t get a Thanksgiving ride in, which in many ways seems both unfathomable and case in point. When I think about the lack of saddle time, I find myself getting more and more aggravated. At myself. At life. At the way I feel. Mentally its like I’m going nuts and every time I look at the bikes I find myself feeling like I’m letting them - the inanimate objects - down… Which is probably even more crazy… Between work, getting sick, various events with family and friends, and all sorts of other miscellaneous odds and ends that have popped up this year, lately I’ve found myself feeling like the desire to ride and the opportunity to actually ride seem awfully opposed to one another at the moment. Then of course you add the weather, which lately has wildly fluctuated from semi-warm to surprisingly cold, and even when the opportunity exists I find myself standing in a place I’ve never stood before, wondering for the first time if self-induced motorcycle frostbite (cyclebite???) is worth it or not.
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And people don’t think it gets cold in SoCal! I can absolutely relate to this story. Riding in the cold is definitely a different experience than riding when it is warm. You have to want to ride in the cold to do it.
Nice write up as usual.
james
A heated jacket and gloves would go a long way toward staving off that frostbite. Hell, we’ve had snow packed streets in my neighborhood for the last two weeks and more snow on the way this Friday. I’m chomping at the bit to get my ST3 out of the garage once the streets clear enough. When I do, I’ll be plugged in.
Love your blog.
At least its possible for you to ride, This snow and ice in Iowa along with 15 degree weather only make it possible to read about other people riding, I am grateful for your terrific writing.