I’ve done lots of short, cold rides. I’ve done really long rides that were cold for part of the way, and at least one 475-mile ride that was cold the entire way. But this weekend I did one of my coldest, semi-long rides, all in the name of reuniting my reduced number of motorcycles under one roof as we start a new chapter in life in 2023.
I’ve always been a year-round rider, though naturally I ride a lot less in the winter, at least since I moved away from the tropics. But I always found ways and reasons to ride at least a little and prevent complete motorcycle withdrawal and keep my skills from totally rusting over. I rode to work when I had a daily commute to the AMA offices (my personal record was one morning when it was seven degrees F), and when I no longer had a commute I would often run a short errand or a slightly longer one, or take a ride on New Year’s Day for the tradition of it. Despite partially sharing a name, I’m absolutely no Oliver Solaro, riding remote Canadian ice roads in winter. But there was never a calendar month in which I didn’t ride. Until last year.
In January 2022, living in Cambridge, Massachusetts, I never started my Honda VFR800. The snow and ice, the salty roads, the short hours of daylight and, most of all, the alternative of better ways to get where I needed to go, all added up to keep the motorcycle parked for a full calendar month, a first for me.
This January, we made another move following my wife’s career, going from city life to small-town, college-town life again. I already wrote about how I got my old Speed Triple to Massachusetts in preparation for the change. We made the actual move in the opening days of the year and the only thing left to do was turn in the keys to our apartment and ride the VFR across the state from Cambridge to Williamstown. The weekend forecast called for cold but sunny conditions, so it appeared to be my last window of opportunity.
The forecast turned out to be optimistic. Unexpected snow on Saturday morning had me on edge, and unexpected snow was threatening Sunday late afternoon in the east, but I was able to escape the city in between and ride a somewhat circuitous 173-mile route home, just to make sure I’d be on dry roads. It was 38 when I left Cambridge with the heated grips on “5,” rose to 43 in the sunny part of the trip in central Massachusetts, and fell as low as 28 when I got near home in the Berkshires. But cold I can deal with. As long as there’s no ice on the roads, and they were clear.
Mount Greylock, the highest point in Massachusetts, was frosty on top, and there was some lingering snow in the shade of this pull-off, but the roads were all dry and clear, making for an uneventful trip.
I’ve previously written about tips for riding in winter weather and dressing for cold-weather riding. To me the keys are:
- Stay dry. If there’s any chance of getting wet, you must avoid it in the cold, when it becomes not just uncomfortable, but potentially dangerous.
- Make yourself windproof. Give it half a chance and the wind will find a way in. Make sure there are no gaps. And don’t forget your neck. On this trip, I wore both a balaclava and my fleece Turtle Fur neck gaiter.
- Layer wisely. My article linked above talks about base layers, insulating layers, and weatherproof shells. For my ride this weekend, I counted up 13 articles of clothing I was wearing, without separately counting the removable insulation layers in my riding jacket and pants. Other than my toes and my nose, I never felt uncomfortably cold, even after three-plus hours mostly at highway speeds around the freezing point, with no electric gear other than the heated grips.
One thing that helps with all three points, and many may not think of, is to wear a rain jacket or suit over your insulated riding gear, even if the weather is totally dry. It doesn’t provide insulation, but it’s a great way to make yourself windproof and eliminate drafts.
As someone who was averse to the cold even in my college days, I’ve only gotten predictably worse with old age. And 13 years in tropical and sub-tropical climates didn’t help my resistance to the chill, either. So while my Sunday ride wasn’t as cold as my shorter, coldest rides, or as long as my longest, cold rides, it was a bit of a challenge for me. But one handled with the help of good gear and a little experience at doing stuff like this.
The payoff is that I’m once again functionally a two-motorcycle household, with a private garage where my bikes have been reunited. Now that we’re back in a small-town environment, where everyone knows everyone, I expect to begin the process of building my reputation as that strange guy who’s married to that really smart woman at the college — you know, the guy who rides his motorcycle even in the winter.
