Captain, Tell Us a Story

[MikeCam]

...and this is the story he told...

I am home, alone with a back injury from doing chores the past two days in sub-freezing temperatures. In and out of the warm house. Lifting and turning (yes I lift with my legs). Exceeding my used vehicle warranty...

So I am now bored. No TV, no good DVD's. Even Jo Momma is fairly quiet over at ADV Rider. Tell me a story.

Here's mine: 1975, Harpers Ferry WV (coldest winter in fifty years -- you can look it up). Had to get to Morgantown, WV. Across the Allegheny Front at 3600-4000 feet; 15 degrees ambient at 500 feet ASL; colder in the mountains. I-70 and I-68 are the route.

Bundled up in every layer I could manage. Army boots with 3 pair socks. Long johns, jeans, khakis, ski pants. T shirt, sweatshirt, flannel shirt, ski parka. 2 pair gloves, ski mask under 3/4 face helmet. Kawasaki KZ400.

Just rode.

Made the first stop in Frostburg, MD and spent a while thawing out. Started west again and immediately hit flurries at Big Savage Mountain. Then real sticking snow at Chestnut Ridge. Had to keep moving because to stop was to stay stopped.

Crossing the Cheat Mountain/Coopers Rock ridgeline, the snow became rain and as I decended into Morgantown, the rain became drizzle. Made it.

I am still cold to this day, 30 years later.

What's your story?

[arkline]

I've got a snow/riding story, if that's what you're looking for.

Back in 1967 or 68, I was working for Boeing at Plant 2. I worked either swing shift or graveyard and road to work on a pretty beat up Honda 305. One afternoon I rode the eleven miles or so to do my swing shift duties and though the sky was weathering gray and nasty, I just figured it would be raining out when the shift was over at midnight. Eight hours later, when I came out to go home, it had snowed pretty heavily for Seattle, say a couple of inches or so. And it was cold enough not to be melting off. So I got my raingear on and the helmet and kicked the beast into life. Started out following the tire tracks that were packed snow, but channeling through the rest of the snow. I got onto the freeway and headed north to my apartment, which was near the north end of the Aurora bridge. I moderated speed and slid around a bit, but as long as I could catch myself I could make twenty mph or so. I took the express lanes which are covered at the south end and at the north end where my exit was. Getting off the snow was great as I motored onto the lower level of the ship canal bridge. My exit was at the far end. I moved right to take the exit and swung down onto the sloping curve and immediately fell on my backside as the bike gently slid out from under me to my left. The bike and I spiraled down to the bottom of the ramp on packed snow that hadn't melted. Once at the bottom I turned the bike off and did an inventory. One right rear turnsignal short, a scrape or two, and that was all. It was a struggle to get the bike upright but I managed. I had a hard time starting it, but it eventually caught and we motored home on some back streets. No more than 5 mph or so. Finally got home and was glad to be alive. My luck had been good to me. There were few cars out in the snow after midnight on a weekday and none had decided to follow me down the off ramp. None came down while I was trying to pick up the bike and none followed me as I, more or less, limped home. I would never do such a thing again. I'd take the bus. Honest.

[Pat]

I was commuting, shopping, and dating on my Lime Green Honda CL360, no car..... justa bike.

I was working as an Offset Pressman on a big Heidelburg and smaller AB dingle. Swing shift, some kind of holiday, but I took the OT to make that "easy money." When it was time to go home, I put on my long johns (under my jeans) and slipped my Levi jacket on over a well worn Pendleton.

Danm...... raining outside, really coming down too! No big deal, I was getting used to it. Though I think that date I took out the week prior on the coldest night of the year, STILL hadn't forgiven me.

I fired up my 70's era, bench seated, parallel twin, and set off for home. The rain ceased, and I was enjoying the ride home that night. One of those little Honda chain driven cars pulled up along side me, cute thing. It had an exhaust and fat tires, and spanked me on that bike!??!! WOW!

Almost home, my favorite 'S' turn coming up...... and so also the rain (again). My having slowed down for the gentle curve to the left wasn't enough, the tires began to slip. One of those little reflectors prior to the shoulder of the road, got my bike airborne. So I'm shooting off the road, still trying to point my bike left, and now I'm bouncing in the mud & muck heading for a ditch!!!! I got bumped entirely OFF the bike & outa the saddle, still sailing along at 30+ mph, still holding onto the bars.......... By landing on one of my feet and my muscular stub for a leg, I got bumped back into the saddle of my bike and was now riding my Scrambler turned street bike!?! I shot back out onto the roadway, regained control of the bike, and made it home....... a little shaken.

I was living in a converted garage in those days, and it was cooooold. So I cranked up the gas heat, ripped off all my wet clothes, and promptly fell asleep on the much used sofa. When I awoke, the wet clothes were steaming, I had cotton mouth, and it was 90 degrees in there!! But I was unscathed from my earlier scare, warm, and my jeans & Levi jacket were now dry, for the following day of commuting to work

on my Lime Green CL360.

[arkline]

Most of them are actually true

Hmmmm. I suspect the veracity of the posts above is being questioned...

All I can say is that that's how I remember it happening. Almost forty years ago, you've got to expect some dimming of the sharp edges in detail. So, let's hear some of those Great White North stories. I'll put on an extra layer and be waiting.

[riceburner]

Living in England I can't compete with the snow drift stories, but sometimes we do get a bit of the white stuff...

About 4 years ago I was still doing an 80 mile commute on my trusted Kawasaki ZR550 Zephyr, city roads, then Motorway, then bigish local roads to home. Getting out of London was fine - but on the M40 the snow started to fall. Ever ridden in snowfall?? When you get above about 60mph the snow stops falling, and comes at you horizontally.... at 80 it's coming at you fast. I was still weaving in and out of traffic too. (yes, I was young and dumb, still am. )

Anyway this continued until I got off the motorway and onto the back roads, the snow hadn't been settling so I hadn't had any problems.

Until I climbed up onto a ridge that enclosed the River Thames west of London. it was at least an inch deep, and it must have come down damned fast because there was no other tracks. the verges, surrounding fields and everything was totally white. absolutely NO frame of reference. Until a tree appeared out of the gloom (I was down to about jogging pace I think). I had to think hard about which side of the road that tree sat!!!

The snow hadn't had time to settle hard, and hadn't frozen either so I didn't even get any slides as I crept over the ridge and down the other side to my home town.

I filled up before heading to the house and discovered why my vision had been deteriorating in the latter half of the journey:

oh - this is the bike I was on btw :


See that fairing? The snow had drifted up in the "scoop" until it was virtually covering the headlight!! I looked down at myself and my body was half covered in snow too!!

I'm wondering if I'll have to do it again this winter....

[wncbmw]

OK - here is my cold weather story. Early 80s, coming back south from a trip to New England on my old R90/6. It is 2:00 AM or so and cold weather catches me and with my normal refusal to concede any on my schedule, I press on, down I-81. Until I notice my hands have ceased to hurt. Bad sign.

I stop at a rest area and nearly drop my bike because my legs have decided they don't want to work either! I stagger up to the bathroom and punch the handdryer and put my hands under it. Repeat. Repeat. And repeat until it suddenly goes pop! and quits working! On to the next! When I left I had warm hands but there were only two dryers still working!

My worse cold story involves snowshoes and a December trip to the Bob Marshall wilderness area! Another time.

[arkline]

Frank,

No offense intended, but I figure you're just full of stories. Thirty years in Alaska??? That would fill anyone's basket of lore.