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There was a time when I actually enjoyed riding in the rain. So long as I knew it was coming and wore the appropriate gear, I had fun. That's probably because, for the most part, we don't get too much of it here in San Diego. It also made me feel like a "real" motorcyclist. Silly, I know. The worst of it was cleaning the bike afterwards. What a pain. Nowadays, I avoid it if at all possible. That's usually always.
My worst weather experience was getting caught in an unanticipated downpour with only about 10 miles left to get home. The rain was so hard, so persistent, I couldn't see a thing with my face shield down. I tried turning my head slightly to the left and right and down to clear the droplets (something that has normally worked for me) but this time, it didn't matter. I was staring, wide-eyed through the distorted face shield, barely making out tail lights and painted lines. The rain had soaked my jeans and worked its ways down my back and into my gauntlet gloves. My hands were soaked and frozen within minutes. I had to open my face shield and take the stinging rain on my face just to be able to see. It was then that I realized riding in the rain isn't always a pleasant experience. Those last few miles were sketchy to say the least. I came through it all in one piece and am happy for the experience.
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I've been through horrible torrents of rain, but the worst ride due to the elements that I ever had was crossing the Bonneville Salt Flats (on I-80) in a horrific sidewind. Leaned over at a ridiculous angle just to go sort of in one direction. The wind was strong and varying so it was constant adjustment, every second, bike swerving from side to side. My biggest fear was to be thrown into the other lane and into another vehicle.
I finally made it to the Nevada border and was glad to be checking in to a Motel 6 instead of a morgue. That motel had a huge tall sign towering over the establishment, probably to let people know from 10 miles away that they were there, must've been 4 or 5 stories tall. Well, in the middle of the night the sign had had enough of the wind and the base failed from metal fatigue, the sign came crashing down into the parking lot. How it avoided the building, the street, parked cars AND my FJ1100, was miraculous.. Didn't have a camera (and esp, no digital cameras back then), so no pics, but it DID happen !
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(07-03-2015, 02:15 AM)furious_blue_imp Wrote: I've been through horrible torrents of rain, but the worst ride due to the elements that I ever had was crossing the Bonneville Salt Flats (on I-80) in a horrific sidewind. Leaned over at a ridiculous angle just to go sort of in one direction. The wind was strong and varying so it was constant adjustment, every second, bike swerving from side to side. My biggest fear was to be thrown into the other lane and into another vehicle.
I finally made it to the Nevada border and was glad to be checking in to a Motel 6 instead of a morgue. That motel had a huge tall sign towering over the establishment, probably to let people know from 10 miles away that they were there, must've been 4 or 5 stories tall. Well, in the middle of the night the sign had had enough of the wind and the base failed from metal fatigue, the sign came crashing down into the parking lot. How it avoided the building, the street, parked cars AND my FJ1100, was miraculous.. Didn't have a camera (and esp, no digital cameras back then), so no pics, but it DID happen !
Well that story tops it for me so far.
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Rain for me as well. I was going back home (Denver area) from a great weekend in Santa Fe NM and woke up to heavy rain. And the temp had dropped to the low 40s. Since I needed to be at work the next day, I put on about everything I had plus my rain gear and set out. After about an hour I was pulling off at about every other exit on I-25 and going into the coffee shop to just warm up and get out of the rain for a bit. It was a very long ride back, but I'll bet it seemed longer for the Harley riders heading the same way with their leather vests and chaps and soaked to the bone. They were hitting the coffee shops just like I was. A week later I was the proud owner of a Widder Lectric Vest!
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I have always felt bad for going into restaurants after pulling in, in the pouring rain, with my rain gear on. Wherever I sit and on the floor under me is a big puddle someone has to clean up.
On last years trip to Cali we ran into bumper to bumper traffic in 105 degree weather from San Fran to Sacremento. Being afraid to split traffic on my touring bike we just sat there and baked. Every once in a while I would pull out my water bottle. take a swig, and pour a swig down the front and back of my jacket. When rolling it would cool me off. When sitting there it was like a clam bake lol
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Gentlemen,
The worst weather I've ridden in was coming home from California to Scottsdale, AZ in July. 125 degrees in the shade and about 10% humidity, it had to be 140+ in direct sun light on that black asphalt. It sucked the moisture right out of my body and was indescribably miserable. When I finally made it home I was screwed up for a full day.
Chip
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I simply do not have the wealth of distance riding experiences that many here do. Even my commute is short. However, this past December we had a wind storm creep up that was a real doozie and since I had ridden to work that morning, riding home that night was my fate. This is the only time I have truly been rather fearful to ride, as opposed to just being miserable, due to weather conditions.
Following is what I wrote in the "Today's Weather" thread back in December.
Guth Wrote:That wind made for one nerve wracking commute home. This was compounded by the fact that the office building that I work in is located in a wind corridor, which tends to amplify the gusts considerably. This caused them to close off multiple streets in the immediate vicinity which really interfered with my planned escape route. When I departed, my initial fear was being blown sideways into oncoming traffic. That fear was soon replaced by the need to dodge moving objects blowing around in the wind. Garbage cans being tops amongst the key offenders. I was plenty glad to make it home safe 'n sound.
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I rode a bit in the rains back in the 1980s, when I was a n00b on an SR500 and wearing leather...you do NOT want to wear real leather when it's raining and you're on a naked bike. Cold and wet and gets the mind running to thoughts of grisly suicide.
But that's far back in the brain-case files. More recently? THE worst weather I rode through was a month ago, on the Oregon coast. Cold, in the 50s; raining hard and fog. AND...TRAFFIC. All the out-of-state sightseers (like me!) were out there to watch whales and see the coast, and by gum and by God, they were GONNA WATCH WHALES.
And they didn't much like me slowing down, on that wet pavement, for hairpin turns. Never mind that I couldn't even see out my helmet face-mask half the time...it was steaming over inside and smeared with crud on the outside...man, oh man. TWO HUNDRED SLOW MILES OF HE**!
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I forgot about the heat (probably because I live in the desert). Last July I stupidly decided to ride my bike from Phoenix to San Diego for a friends wedding. I planned to go early to avoid the 115 degree afternoon temperatures across the desert, but circumstances intervened and I ended up leaving at 11AM. I stopped often to completely soak all of my clothes in water, but that would only last about 30 miles. When I got to the sand dunes, the wind was blowing and I got painfully sandblasted. After 350 miles of that I was thoroughly cooked, dehydrated and sanded smooth.
Two days later i had to make the return trip. Circumstances again caused me to depart at noon and repeat that miserable ride all over again.  I learned my lesson. As much as I love to ride, I'll never be making that trip again.
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(07-03-2015, 09:35 AM)Guth_imp Wrote: I simply do not have the wealth of distance riding experiences that many here do. Even my commute is short. However, this past December we had a wind storm creep up that was a real doozie and since I had ridden to work that morning, riding home that night was my fate. This is the only time I have truly been rather fearful to ride, as opposed to just being miserable, due to weather conditions.
Following is what I wrote in the "Today's Weather" thread back in December.
Guth Wrote:That wind made for one nerve wracking commute home. This was compounded by the fact that the office building that I work in is located in a wind corridor, which tends to amplify the gusts considerably. This caused them to close off multiple streets in the immediate vicinity which really interfered with my planned escape route. When I departed, my initial fear was being blown sideways into oncoming traffic. That fear was soon replaced by the need to dodge moving objects blowing around in the wind. Garbage cans being tops amongst the key offenders. I was plenty glad to make it home safe 'n sound.
This raises an interesting point. Now that deer are more populous and hunters fewer; and now that I've hit two deer with my cars and one on a bike (didn't go down)...I'm REAL gun-shy about the whole thing.
On a trip, when I can, I pack it in for the night around seven at the latest. I try for earlier...about six is when the deer start wandering down to the watering hole. Sunrise and sunset are the most likely times to hit wildlife.
That's well and good; but sometimes real-life intervenes. This same trip, coming home over Lolo Pass...I was running late. Meaning, I was forty miles from home when the sun was setting...too close to home to waste money on a motel; and yet I was in prime deer and elk and even moose country, and at the time they were gonna be running the roads.
I didn't have any true close calls, but I did find a few on the side of the road. It was the only time I ever wished I had open pipes.
I took to tooting the horn, short bursts every five seconds or so. Stupid? Probably. I didn't hit a deer. Maybe the horn had nothing to do with it; but my first order of business was to NOT WRECK. I'll think about courtesy and noise pollution later.
I did make it; but the danger was palpable. I have known a guy who hit a deer and was killed. I hit one, and I thought I would eat pavement. It totaled a $3000 bike. It was the pain of abscessed adrenaline...tangible fear.
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