This was probably the most unpleasant first day of vacation I’ve ever had.
What was supposed to be an easy ride up to Omaha turned into a day fraught with terror, equipment malfunctions and general nasty rainy discomfort.
About an hour from home, an oncoming pickup truck driver flashed his lights at me, tipping me off that my low beam headlight bulb was out. Since the bike has separate high and low beam bulbs, I resolved to ride with the high beam on until I can get it replaced. I know better than to try to change it myself, having gone through that nightmare several years ago.
Somewhere south of Kansas City, I noticed darkness on the northern horizon. I rode awhile until it became obvious that I was close to the rain.
I was much closer than I realized.
I pulled to the berm in front of a driveway and put the bike on its sidestand. By the time I got my helmet off and dragged my rain suit out of the seat pack, the storm was upon me. The rain was coming down in sheets and the wind was blowing so strongly that keeping the bike from going over on its right side suddenly took priority over getting into my rain gear. As I struggled to keep the bike upright, I noticed a huge piece of corrugated metal hurtling across four lanes of the road toward me. It broke into two pieces just before it got to me, the smaller slab sliding up against my back tire and the bigger piece landing about three feet in front of the bike. I remember wondering if it was going to slice me in half, but I was too focused on keeping the bike upright to be really scared.
Finally, I got back onto the bike and rode it up the driveway and pulled onto the sidewalk on the lee side of the pole barn garage while the storm howled around me and thunder crashed all around. I expected to hear the freight train roar of a tornado at any moment, but it never happened.
By this time, I was drenched to the skin, I had water in my boots and only the stuff in my tank bag and saddlebags was dry.
Five miles up the road and I was in sunshine. Ten miles on and I was on dry pavement.
I got rained on a bit coming through Kansas City and found another huge storm about 30 miles north of St. Joseph, Mo.
I finally limped in to Omaha, my GPS no longer running on bike power.
Dom was waiting at the motel and we grabbed a quick Subway dinner and spent an hour or so trying to figure out why my GPS wasn’t receiving any power from the bike. We finally gave up.
And now I’m going to bed.
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