I’m not much of a motorcycle commuter. First off, it does not save me a dime to take the bike. Seems I go through a tank each and every ride home. And gearing up and down adds 15 minutes to each side of an already long commute. Today was one of those days where the bike had a certain utility to it. The car is in the shop for tires and long overdue maintenance; the K75’s rear is in Kevin’s trunk, en route to Jim’s to be reunited with an ME 880; so I found myself commuting to work on the GT.
It is not the kind of day that screams “take the bike”. I rolled out of the garage and into the fog at 7:15. It is unseasonably warm, the air thick with mist. Not enough moisture to fuss with rain gear, even the REV’IT wear could fend off this weather. It’s a day I’d just as soon have slid into the leather seats of the Acura and zoned out to tape 9 of the book of the week.
I enjoyed being out there none the less. Not a bike to wave too, but plenty of quiet time on the long boring ride down the highway. It got me to thinking about the first time I commuted to work. I must have had all of a month of riding under my belt. It was a straight shot down the highway, but it seems liked the longest most harrowing 35 miles of my life! Well, maybe I exaggerate, but I recall my first impressions of highway driving: it was noisy (I hadn’t discovered earplugs) and the wind buffeted my head and bike about. I laugh now thinking about how cumbersome the K75 seemed to me back then, now it’s almost a natural extension of me. I also remember the sense of pride as I rolled into the parking lot at work that day, my hands only a little shaky. I had a bit of that pride today as I pulled the cover over my GT, hoping to keep it dry as I went inside. Commuting, even if the weather’s bad, on a bike is not a bad way to start the day.