My most favorite time of the year to ride is the spring time. It is the perfect temps for motorcycle riding, enough of a cool breeze to leather up and not sweat profusely.
Speaking of sweating profusely, reminds me of the trip my brother and I took in the middle of the July heat, across the Nevada desert. Temperatures were around 110 degrees, adding another 5 to 10 degrees for the radiant heat of the pavement. We both sported camelbaks filled with ice water.
At each gas stop, after riding about 120 to 130 miles, our camelbaks would be bone dry, and we would refill them again with convenience store’s complimentary ice and water. At least I think it was complimentary. The store clerks never challenged us, or at least confronted us, with filling the packs with their ice and water. After all, we were bikers, and bikers were not to be messed with. I did, on occasion, ask permission before using their water and ice.
After riding through Reno and over the Donner Pass, we dropped into the scorching heat of the Sacramento Valley. We were stuck in stop and go traffic for the longest time. The temperatures were almost unbearable. After putting up with the stop and go traffic, for what seemed an eternity, my brother said, “Hey, doesn’t California lawallow for motorcycles to split lanes?” Before I could get a reply out, he was off riding between cars, so I followed. About every 10th car, seeing us coming through their side view mirror, would move over and block the lane split. So we would stop until traffic started again, and continue our shooting through cars.
That night, as I prepared my air mattress, sleeping bag and tent for a tired biker’s body, I then realized just how hot it was that day. When I pulled out my mattress blower to inflate my mattress, it had gotten so hot that day that my batteries had exploded. Now that is hot.
Anyway, I welcome the spring temperatures and am saddened when they give way to the punishing summer temps.