I've Been in the Wind

I've been out, being a polluting Republican on a Harley-Davidson. I rode 20 miles up and down Old Cutler Road, just for the pleasure of being on a bike I fixed.

My hands are nearly numb. It's 59 degrees out, which is prime riding weather in Miami, and I forgot how cold 59 is when you're not behind a windshield. The cold air also shot up my sleeves and into my jacket, which was bad.

Next time, I'll wear my GAUNTLETS! Yes, I have Gimp-style black gauntlets that come halfway up my arm. I better not wear those if I ride to South Beach. I should also have worn my horsehide pants. I realize I would have looked very odd in a black leather jacket, black gloves, black boots, and black leather pants, riding a black Harley. But they crap on jeans. They're waterproof and road-rash-resistant.

As for the black Harley, that was the only color they had when I bought it. I got my bike right when the post-Clinton recession started hitting Harley-Davidson, and while I got a much better price than people who bought six months earlier, I still had to take whatever was on the sales floor, and they refused to haggle. And what was on the sales floor? A black bike. I kept meaning to get it painted, but I never did.

There is something wrong with men who only drive black vehicles. I mean, grow up, guys. You're not David Hasselhoff. You're not Batman. And black isn't the coolest color ever, and no one thinks you're a Ninja, and you look like a case of arrested development.

That's how I feel. But I got stuck with two black motorcycles anyway. And the black getup makes it worse.

There is nothing less "progressive" than a motorcycle. They pollute like hell. They violate noise ordinances. They're unsafe. They're fun. The only safe protective gear is made out of dead animals. And most motorcycles are made in Japan and the US. Two of the least liberal countries on earth. You'll never see Volvo make a motorcycle. That's for damn sure.

I should try to ride more, now that it's the season. Up north people are cursing because they had to put their bikes away in November. Here, it's so damn hot, November is the first month that's worth a crap. I mean, IF you wear protective gear. My jacket weighs about 20 pounds; it's front-quarter horsehide. Add gloves, a helmet, insulated waterproof boots, wool socks, and jeans, and you tend to warm up pretty fast.

I hate protective gear. It takes ten minutes to put on. It's hot. When you wear a helmet, you can't see anything to your sides or above you. Ear plugs make it hard to hear other vehicles. But what a difference this stuff makes. If you ride a motorcycle that makes no engine noise at all, the sound of the wind can still damage your hearing. If you wear leather, you can slide yards without getting a scratch, but jeans last about five feet. As for the helmet, you can die from hitting your bare head on the pavement at five miles per hour, and how often to you go that slow?

I've ridden without the jacket and helmet a number of times, because it's so much more pleasant. But I was inviting death and misery. I'm sure I'll do it again. Guys who are really manly wear back protectors and armor and don't care if it's uncomfortable or if people laugh, but I'm too much of a wimp.

They still don't make a synthetic that compares to leather in a crash. Tests prove it. Kevlar is a joke. And horsehide is the bomb. I love this stuff. I have a motorcycle jacket, a pair of pants, and an A2 made from it. One of these days I'm going to get a horsehide full-length coat. And I'll wear it to Whole Foods and stand near the soy, singing the Mr. Ed song. "A horse is a horse, of course, of course, unless they KILLED IT TO MAKE MY JACKET."

Okay, time to spend five minutes taking my boots and other crap off.