I can, and I do, but I probably shouldn't have

 This is a post-script to my last post, about riding in the rain. Like I said, if you don't have to, don't. I had to.

I had to make a journey of twenty-five minutes or so, and the only means of transport I had was either my bike, or a phone call to ask somebody to pick me up. I am a proud woman, a strong woman, a competent woman, so I chose the bike.

I had been sitting being mansplained at for about two hours by a family member as I watched the sky grow ever darker behind his condescension, and wondered why I hadn't thought to check the weather forecast before putting myself in this position. I hadn't, because the sky had been blue and while I am proud, strong and competent, I am also kinda dumb. Not dumb enough to have forgotten to bring my rain gear with me, but dumb enough to believe that the raingear itself holds mysterious talismanic properties that keep rain at bay as long as I have it. It doesn't, and now I know that. 

By the time I chased the family member away because I was starting to worry about his ability to get home safely, since he's no longer at all young, has only one eye, and thinks that wearing a seatbelt is an attempt by over-reaching government to take away his right to liberty and freedom, it had started raining. And thundering. And lightninging.

So I considered my options, and knew which one I would take even before I considered them. I would ride the damn bike, but I would look at the radar first because that's what any sensible person would do. I looked at the radar which showed a large dark green blob covering everywhere I was or wanted to be and lasting until the radar stopped. I saw that there was a slightly lighter green patch in about forty-five minutes, with fewer of the alarming yellow, orange and purple spots which mean very bad news, and whiled away the forty-five minutes doing pelvic floor exercises, as one does. Then I donned the rain gear, and strode out to the bike.

The radar did not lie. There was no lightning, no cloudbursts, no violent and ominous wind, all of which would have driven me to the second option. It merely rained steadily, and very heavily, until I reached my destination, which was where I found out that rain gear is far better than no rain gear, but it is not without flaws, particularly around the crotch and the lower half of the legs. And the boots. And the gloves. And whatever is underneath all that.

I learnt the following: that is quite possible to wish fervently for a motorcycle ride to end, that at all costs in rain the rider must avoid paint on the road and manhole covers, that you feel much safer upright rather than leaning and that it is advisable to see a seductive curve not as a seducer, but as a treacherous lover who will betray you if you are incautious. I also learned that visors fog up and do not have teeny windscreen wipers, and neither do glasses, but at least they don't fog up, and that it's very important to be able to see when you are riding a motorcycle. And that rain really fucking hurts at 45mph.

Now I know.