Rain is why God invented rain suits–get one!
The weather could not have been better the last few days as we rode our motorcycles around southwestern Colorado. Fall colors were at their peak, the temperature was perfect, and the sunshine made it all completely glorious. Crossing Monarch Pass on the way out to Montrose from Denver had been a treat, and our ride over Red Mountain Pass, between Ouray and Durango, was even better than its usual spectacular.
Now it was time to head home and the weather gods had turned against us. We woke up at John’s house to rain and the weather radar showed unbroken storm clouds over much of the state, and over all of our route home. Time to suit up.
Right away Bill had a problem but it was easy to rectify. Bill was on his brand new Harley Classic, his first bike ever to have a fairing, and he had been over-optimistic as to how much protection that fairing would offer him. He had only worn a half-helmet and in a brief shower we’d ridden through a few days earlier he had seen the inadequacy of that arrangement. Fortunately John had an old full-face helmet he no longer used and it fit Bill, so that problem was solved.
As for the rain itself, hey, that’s why we have rain suits. Let’s roll.
Leaving John’s the sky seemed to be clearing, as if the storm might move ahead of us, but to the north, over Montrose, it was a lot darker. We headed for Montrose and rode into it. From there our route was east, so there was no chance we’d be parting ways.
There was a very noticeable absence of motorcycles on the road, and we’d probably been riding for half an hour before we saw any others. This may be prime riding season in Colorado but on a day like this the only bikes you were going to see were folks who had places they needed to be. Like us.
Riding in the rain makes for a very different ride. Slick curves can be dangerous, as can sudden stops, so the pace is necessarily more sedate. Oncoming vehicles can through waves of water over you, so you stay as far to the right as possible when they approach. Riding close behind a truck is a guarantee you’ll get soaked, so you don’t close up to traffic ahead, and if someone passes you quickly drop back behind them.
Cold and Getting Colder
Reaching Gunnison, we were dry but cold. Time to stop at a fast food joint for warmth and coffee. The thermometers on the Harleys read 40 degrees. Monarch Pass was ahead of us and it would be another 3,600-foot climb to the top. Would there be ice up there? Not a pleasant thought.
About a dozen other riders were stopped at the same McDonald’s for the same reasons, and when we came in they asked what direction we’d come, hoping for news of the pass. We had nothing to offer them. After awhile one group said good-bye, they had decided to find a motel there in Gunnison. Later, another group put on their gear and headed toward the pass.
While weighing our options, Dennis overheard a young woman speaking on her cellphone as she headed for the restroom. She was telling her friend about snow on top of the pass. We waited for her to come out and collared her, asking for details. She confirmed the snow.
We decided to cross our fingers and go for it. If we saw bikers coming the other way and they were waving their arms to warn us off we would heed their warnings. Otherwise we were optimistic.
There was no snow or ice on top of Monarch when we got there, and with the highest point on our route behind us the way home was clear. Yes, we had two more hours of cold rain ahead of us but we took our time and made a couple more warm-up stops.
Gearing up again after one stop in Fairplay, Dennis, who lives in the mountains in an area vulnerable to forest fires, remarked that it had damn well better be raining at his house considering that he was having to ride all day in the rain. At our final stop, at the turn-off Dennis would take to get home, I told him with confidence that I was sure it was indeed raining at his house.
Bill and I rode on to where our paths diverged and I headed home. At home it was only minutes before I was enjoying one of the best things a day like this has to offer: a long, hot shower. Now that is bliss!
Biker Quote for Today
You’d kill yourself on a bike? You mean your wife won’t let you have one.
