Gibberish Is My Native Language
October 29th, 2008

Still a little damp

The first half of my ride home from Georgia was great. I was moving along at a good clip, and the sun was bright and shining.

That is, until I got to Fayetteville, North Carolina.

Fayetteville seems to be the tipping point for bad motorcycle weather. On my trip down, my route south of Fayetteville was completely covered by rain. I guess the northern part of my return trip got jealous and wanted to get in on the “fun.”

It rained non-stop, and hard, all the way home. It wasn’t as bad as my trip down, but it was a soaking rain. Paranoid (and hopefully wiser) from my gear problems on the way down, I adjusted my waterproofing strategy slightly.
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October 25th, 2008

A little damp

The first half of my trip down to Georgia was fantastic. It was cool enough that I wasn’t hot in my Rev’It Cayenne Pro jacket, but not so cold my hands were freezing. It was overcast enough that I didn’t have to squint behind my Native sunglasses, but not so overcast that I had to worry about rain.

That is, until I got to Fayetteville, North Carolina. Then the sky opened up. It didn’t stop until I reached Savannah, some 280 miles later.

What followed was a near total failure of every piece of waterproof motorcycling gear that I owned. Am I being too harsh?
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September 30th, 2008

Remembering Ghost Rider, 2008

My friend Ghost Rider passed away on July 4th, 2007. The following fall his mother and family put together a benefit ride to Yorktown, Virginia. We did it again this year, this time heading up to the Blue Ridge Parkway.

The weather called for rain for most of the day. I was not deterred for a moment — I’ve ridden in the rain plenty of times and have specialized gear that goes on top of my protective clothing — but I was afraid the event would be postponed until the next day. I already had plans for Sunday, and didn’t want to miss out. I put on wicking bottoms and top, my Motoport mesh kevlar pants and my Teknic perforated leather jacket. I stuffed my waterproof gear in the side case and motored off to the rallying point: the Starbucks where Ghost Rider used to work, and where we met for the first time.
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