Yes, You Can be a Biker and a Wimp

Ever since I’ve been riding motorcycles either as a passenger, or a driver, I’ve been a “fair-weather rider.” Literally. I usually say “no thanks” to a ride that’s going to take place if the temperature is below 60 degrees (no, we don’t own anything battery-operated that will keep our fingers and toes warm).  I also don’t care to ride in the rain (sleet & hail included). Most of the time, once you get wet on a motorcycle, you get cold.  When I protest about riding in less than ideal conditions Tom will say, “You can’t be a biker AND a wimp.” Now that I have my own bike, this summer I was out to prove that I am a real biker.  A few weeks ago we went to downtown Charlevoix to support our friends’ fundraiser, a motorcycle poker run to benefit military veterans in the area. Since the forecast showed rain, we decided we would just ride down, buy a couple of t-shirts and then head home. But when the sky started looking OK’ish, we changed our minds and joined some friends on the poker run, heading south of town (the exact opposite direction of our house).  Somewhere around Norwood, the rain started. I had on my leather jacket and jeans, but no real rain gear. It rained for roughly a minute and then it began to pour. Buckets. And buckets. And buckets. I thought to myself, “Ok so I’ll get a little wet. My jeans will dry. At least I have my jacket on.” As the rain refused to let up I thought, “I won’t turn around. I can’t be a biker and a wimp.” Around Eastport, my boots began to fill with water. My jeans were completely soaked and then my coat soaked through to my shirtsleeves. It was like that kids’ song “I’m being swallowed by a boa constrictor and I don’t like it very much!” We inched our way to Bellaire in the monsoon conditions. When we got there I took my boots off and squeezed the water out of my socks. I was wet and cold to the bone. We checked the radar and decided to cut our losses and head home. The ride home was worse. We were already wet and cold, but the wind had kicked up. My teeth were chattering and I was thinking “This is the worst. I am never, ever, ever, going to ride if there is even the slightest chance of rain in the forecast!” As we neared our home I pictured myself hugging the hot tub.  Looking back, some would say I passed the wimp-test. But I disagree. That miserable ride was enough for me even though I’m not giving up riding. I’m here to tell you that you CAN be a biker and a wimp. So if you ask me to ride on a day with a questionable weather forecast answer will be “Call me a wimp, but I don’t ride in the rain.”