Spotty rain, wasn't the word for it.
It came down like a bathtub drain. Fog to match. Cold air blowing in on the coast.
Started today in Raymond, Washington. Had a nice evening walking along the old waterfront there; the tidal flats. I guess the village is rich with lumbering history.
This morning, it was coming down. Hard. Nothing to do but suit up...thank all gods for my choice in putting the windshield on. AND in the riding pants, which are waterproof.
Alas, the helmet was not so good...fog under the visor. It's my eight-year-old Scorpion helmet, and I guess the vents are obstructed. I think dead bugs. I would have cleaned it out...but it was stored for two years and I never thought I'd use it again. Turned out it was quieter; so at the last minute I took it.
But years ago, I had ridden through black clouds of midges, in fall...enough to completely obscure vision on the face glass. Guess the dead bugs are still plugging the airways on the vents.
So...start with fog. Then, no abs. Wet roadways...means, SLOW DOWN.
I did so. And I got through MOST of the day. Until I didn't.
Never saw it coming - like most of these things.
I'd needed to double back after passing through a town; so I picked a Park-N-Ride lot to do it. Now small-town transit Park-N-Rides are not like bus terminals in Chicago. This one LOOKED to be paved, but it was only big enough for one short bus...and only half of it paved.
I needed more room; had to run off the blacktop onto the gravel. Not loose gravel.
Alas, the CB...went into a swoon at the thought of leaving blacktop, and flopped over. Pinning me.
(Either that, or that four-inch drop that I didn't see, was two much at 8 mph...)
So, I'm laying there...next to some sort of business...550 pounds of motorcycle on my leg. And...it's only fair to admit to when bad luck has good timing. Two septuagenarians were getting into their car when CB and I performed our spectacle...and they were just transfixed, as if they weren't sure they saw what they saw.
I motioned them over. God bless them, they came.
I told them I was pinned, and if they just could take some weight off, I could get out. Bless them twice, they tried - and I got free.
Once out...I asked them, as humbly as possible, if they could help me righting the machine. They were sceptical...but game. Between the three of us, it came right up.
Thank all gods.
Only damage, besides a LOT of scuffed paint, was: Shifter is bent at about 25 degrees inward. Still works, but I can't get my toe under it. Fortunate that it's not directly mounted to the shift rod in the transmission. As it is, it will probably be a minor fix.
Oh, and my camera. I had it in a case on my hip. I landed on it. Seems to be DOA.
Interesting observation:
When the CB went over...first thing that happened was the engine started winding up. Keep in mind, my hand was far from the throttle, and the throttle grip was on the high side. Didn't rev right up, but a bit - I'd guess 2000 rpm.
Then it shut off like the kill switch had been hit.
My guess is: Once on its side, it lost oil pressure. And that must have made the computer controls kill the spark immediately. When I got it up and cranked it, it fired right up; no issues with the throttle cable...but took a half-second to build oil pressure. Suggesting that the oil galleys had run dry.
Interesting safety feature, if that's what it is.
After all this sunshine (save for today) in paradise it will be nice to see some weather. We'll be tenting it in Idaho so sunshine will be just fine then. 
