There’s only one intersection in that town. Three stop signs and one road with right of way. I came to a full stop just as a huge tow truck rolled through the intersection. It was one of those giant trucks meant for towing semis. It was lugging a semi tractor and its 60’ grain trailer.
“Man I hope that grain trailer is empty.” I thought. I’m not sure how much those huge tow trucks can handle but the driver had 26 out of 28 wheels on the ground (towed semi’s drive wheels were suspended) and that’s a workout for anyone. I once read a formula that implied a ratio between wheelbase and weight capacity. I’ve since forgotten it, but the tow truck was very long. It had to be a hell of a load. He had a chase car and he deserved it.
Plunk! The first raindrop hit like a marble dropped from space. Widely spread big fat water drops were starting to fall. They landed loudly on my helmet and splattered into my shoulders. They soaked instantly through my mesh jacket. Cold as ice. I’m not an expert in atmospheric physics but surely they came close to being hailstones.
I revved the engine anxiously but the tow truck was followed closely by three fire trucks from the local VFD. Something interesting had happened. I hadn’t noticed any sign the towed semi had burned, but then again I hadn’t been looking. Three fire trucks and the biggest tow rig in the county? There are stories that I don’t know and I was seeing clues of one. In the old days, I’d read about it in tomorrow’s newspaper. Now I’ll either hear gossip or never know.
Plunk, plunk, whap! More drops fell and they fell hard; less like rain and more like little water balloons filled with icewater. I patiently waited for the VFD to lumber through the intersection. They pulled off into the fire department. Finally my coast was clear.
You might think I lit it up and blasted through the intersection. Of course not! Fresh rain on hot pavement is a recipe for a thin film of oily water and correspondingly low traction. I rolled out with the decorum of a limousine carrying royalty.
A half mile later I was up to highway speeds and out of town. Unfortunately, the rain had overtaken me; no longer individual raindrops but a steady pummeling on my helmet. Rain soaked through my jeans and my mesh jacket (as it was designed) offered no protection. Even so, I was clearly moving faster than the front. I was in steady rain but nothing exceptional. In my rear view mirror lightning flashed in rapid succession as the maelstrom let loose on the town I’d just left. Better to be here than back there!
Rain battered my face shield and blurred some of my vision. The sun hadn’t set but the clouds obscured it to a false dusk. I let off the throttle. No point in haste. Avoidance and evasion were played out. Now I was fully involved with an “interesting” ride. I might as well accept it and work with the risks as they are and not as they seemed when I was happily reading a paperback just 15 minutes ago.
Statistically, motorcycles are deadly. I know that. You know that. Grandma knew it too. Back in her day she rode a Harley. When this bike was new I gave her a ride on it. She’s dead now. I miss her. Someday I’ll be dead too. I know that. You know that. Current times being what they are, I have a feeling that lots of chronological adults are still grappling with the concept.
Statistically, rain is a serious additional risk to a motorcycle. There are cyclists that do not ride in rain. I am not one of them.
Statistically, darkness is a serious additional risk to a motorcycle. There are cyclists that do not ride at night. I am not one of them.
I rode on through the rain and darkness; paying very careful attention to my surroundings. What other life is there to live?
I’m not done yet…