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Tuesday was the first time in 2 months I’ve attempted to ride my motorcycles. We get some pretty serious winter here in Salt Lake City and between snow and below freezing temperatures, there have been precious few opportunities to ride. The mountain passes have been closed for some time, so commuting is pretty much the only choice.

 What prompted me to ride wasn’t improved weather, but peer pressure. I’m know as one of the more hardcore riders at my place of employ, and when a coworker rode in on Monday, I was chastized by several others about being a “sissy biker”. I was having none of that, so when the weather report for the next day was clear and cold, I was determined to ride. I don’t mind riding in cold weather because my heated grips and vest put a major dent in the cold. So I checked my tire pressure and started the bike the night before to make sure all systems were go.

 When I left the house it was about 23 deg, but the ride was not unpleasant. In fact, it felt good to be on two-wheels again after about a 2 month hiatus. So all was well until about noon when a snow storm moved in. It came down hard for about 2 hours; hard enough that I started asking around in search of a ride home. The other rider who’s bravery the day before had guilted me into riding this day was in the same circumstance.

 Once the snow stopped and the skies cleared and the evening traffic started melting what remained on the road, my confidence for riding home improved. By 6:30 PM when I left, the roads were mostly clear, but at 21 deg, ice was a major threat. As I pulled out of the parking lot and onto various streets leading to the main road I had to pick my way between patches of ice. Scary, but not impossible. Once I hit the major roads I was only dealing with a fogging face sheild and cold finger tips (heated grips work great on the part actually touching the grip). But as I got onto the Interstate (remember it’s dark at 6:30 PM) my headlight started picking up what looked like black ice here and there. I never had even the slightest slip sensation, but I had many “pucker” moments as I crossed over these wet/black areas.

 The biggest issue from a control standpoint on the ride home was all the potholes and frost heaves created by our extra-wintery wheather this year. I was kicked completely out of the saddle on several occassions. And while none were dangerous per se, all were quite disconcerting. During the day I may have been able to avoid these but at night they were sudden surprises. I finally arrived successfully at my house and had to walk the bike to the garage door due to the snow that was on the driveway (there was no way I was going to make it this far only to fall down in front of my own house).

So what did I learn from this? Never trust the weatherman. Don’t ride unless it’s above freezing (if at all possible). Have good friends who can give you a ride if necessary. Daylight is a much better time to ride in dicey conditions. And never ride because you think you have something to prove!

So, looks like I’ll be waiting awhile before I get to try again. Oh, well, at least I’ll get some wrenching done in the meantime.

Rhino