0630: Alarm goes off. Much to do if I’m to leave by 0800 — shave, brush teeth, shower, make coffee, get the bike ready, pack what I’ll need for the day, etc.
0700: What was that? Thunder? Hard to tell with the shower blasting. Maybe Donna’s moving the dressers around. I sure hope so.
0710: Donna’s still in bed. She says it was thunder. It’s raining but I can see blue sky. I think the ride’s a go.
0745: Everything’s ready. The eaves are dripping and the ground and roads are wet, but except for some scud here and there the sky is clear. It’s a go. Feed the dog on my way out the door.
0805: On the road. I’m kicking up a lot of spray, but it’s not raining. Not too cold either. Should be a great ride. I hope some of my Tucson riding buddies can meet me at Montgomery’s in Vail — I emailed them earlier, telling them I’d be leaving from there at 0830.
0835: At Montgomery’s; no one here but me. Might as well hit the road for Benson. Maybe some of the Sierra Vista crowd will meet me at Reb’s Cafe — I told them I’d be stopping for breakfast there.
0840: Heading east on I-10. Dark clouds ahead. The weather looks like it’s farther to the east than Benson, maybe as far away as Willcox. I’m turning south at Benson, so we should be okay. Getting cold, though. Time to turn the handgrip heat on, about halfway. First time I’ve used it since last winter.
0850: Is that lightning up there? Now it looks like the edge of the rain is right over Benson. These must be the same clouds that were over Tucson a couple of hours ago. If they are, that means the rain’s moving east. So the ride’s still a go. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Hmmm . . . maybe I’d better turn the handgrip heat all the way up.
0900: The roads are soaked in Benson. Deep puddles in the parking lot at Reb’s. I can’t be more than a minute or two behind the rain. That’s cutting it pretty fine. But hey, I’ll be here for an hour — the rain’ll be in New Mexico by then.
0910: Breakfast. Nice and warm in here. Sometimes you don’t notice how cold you are until you start warming up. This head cold I’ve been fighting off is definitely getting worse, though — my nose just shut down and I’m breathing through my mouth.
0930: Calling Donna on my cell phone to tell her how I just missed the weather. She scoffs at my “moving east” theory and reports that it’s clouded up again in Tucson. I don’t see rain through the window but I don’t see blue sky either. Could I be mistaken? Another half-hour to wait, in case anyone’s coming to ride with me. Good thing I brought along a book. Better enjoy being indoors while it lasts. Ditto good thing I brought that pocket pack of Kleenex.
1000: No one shows. Probably because they have more sense than to go riding motorcycles in the rain. So when did it start raining? I looked out the window five minutes ago and it wasn’t, but it sure is now. It’s raining hard. And it’s cold. I’m going to have to take the sheepskin pad off the seat and stuff in in a saddlebag, otherwise I’ll have a wet butt all the way home. Yeah, I’m aborting. The plan was to ride south to Tombstone and Bisbee, but it’s all black down there. Looking west back toward Tucson, it’s only gray. Gray is less bad than black.
1010: Headed west on I-10. Just passing out of the rain, but the pavement is still soaked. I’m keeping my distance from big trucks so I don’t get enveloped in spray. I’m sure glad I wore my full-face helmet today. The Goldwing’s windshield and fairing are keeping my body nice and dry, and thank God for these handgrip heaters.
1020: I can see darker clouds ahead, and great sweepers of rain coming down to the ground. It’s hard to judge their distance — if I’m lucky I’ll be turning north off the interstate onto Houghton Road, which leads straight to my house, before I hit it. There’s snot running from my nose down my moustache. Not much I can do about it. With a full-face helmet, I can’t even wipe it on my glove. Grin & wear it, I guess.
1025: Nope. The rain is definitely close. No way I’m going to avoid it. God damn, it’s cold. Fucking snot.
1028: Is that hail bouncing off the road? You have got to be shitting me! Hail? Better slow down. Ah, that’s better, now it’s only rain. Wow, was that loud or what?
1030: My full face helmet lets water in somewhere. It’s dripping down my face. Along with the snot from my nose. Really raining hard now. For the first time my feet feel wet. That’s probably because they’re soaked. I don’t want to look.
1035: On Houghton Road at last, riding north toward home. Still raining.
1040: Every fucking stoplight is red. Of course. Still raining. Lots of church traffic, people snug in their cars. Let ’em stare.
1055: Home. Still raining, but I’m in the garage now. First things first: helmet off, Kleenex out, blow nose! Ahhh . . . now I can turn off the ignition and put the kickstand down.
1100: Wet clothes off, dry sweats & furry slippers on, sitting in my chair with an afghan pulled up to my chin and a little warm doggie wrapped around my neck, a hot cup of tea and a full box of Kleenex by my side. Life is good.