Your Funniest Bike/Rain experience

I ride in the rain. A lot. But it wasn't always like that.

In 2000, I set off with two friends for a 10-day ride through Yosemite, Sequoia, Kings Canyon, Mesa Verde, Grand Canyon, etc. These two guys were long time riders -- very experienced.

We departed Orange County, CA at 7AM under a clear sky...but that changed in about 2 hours. It went from light sprinkles to a major downpour, with no end in sight. We were on the I-15 and even large trucks were driving 45 MPH with their blinkers on. One of those storms.

Incredulous, I pulled next to one of my buddies and gave him the WTF sign? He gave it back to me. Finally, we took an exit and he asked me what was wrong. Was my bike OK? I said, "DUDE, it's fricking POURING!" That's when everything changed.

He responded, "We don't get a lot of time off of work to ride. We ride in rain or sunshine. I thought you knew that."

I sucked it up, put a rain cover over my (then) leather jacket, and we were off.

It turned out to be one of many great rides with those two guys. We went all over the US in the next 8 years. On that particular ride we ended up enjoying some great weather. But we also experienced more rain, snow, hail and a dust storm in Arizona.

That first ride really molded my riding style. I now ride through rain and barely notice it. Sometimes I actually enjoy it.

There ya go -- one of my favorite rain stories.

I never forget this one. Had to be about 30 years ago, me and a friend were at a red light, on our bikes, ( jap sport bikes back then ) it starts to drizzel, I say I don't think the hard stuff is gonna come down for a while, about 3 seconds after that it poured rain like you wouldn't belive. To this day we kid around and say " I don't think the hard stuff is gonna come down for a while"!

Some things just stick in your mind.

One last rain story.

When I first moved to Tampa I had a pretty little Kawasaki Nomad; I loved that bike. I was seeing a girl and asked her to take a ride with me up the coast. She hopped on the back (no sissy bar) and off we rode to Tarpon Springs/ Weeki Wachee for a touristy visit.

The day called for rain, with a possible hurricane warning. The day looked great -- blue skies..no way!

We were having such a good time that we decided to stay a little longer and have lunch. It started to rain just before the orders arrived. I wasn't too worried, but...


Anyhow, we finished our meals, hopped on the bike and headed back to Tampa in HIGH winds and torrential downpours.

If you've never crossed the Courtney Campbell bridge in the middle of a hurricane on a motorcycle with a girl you've just met. Well, I'm here to tell you about it!

I looked in my mirror now and again to verify that she was still there. She was holding on for dear life and I could have sworn that her feet were flapping behind the bike like the tail of a kite. Well, I felt just horrible but I had to get home.

When we arrived, soaking wet, I asked her how she was doing.

She told me she was just fine and asked if that's always how it is riding a motorcycle. I found out that that was her very first motorcycle ride! Well, with nothing to compare it to, she said it was a blast!

All's well that ends well.

(I married that girl.)

I've crossed the Howard Franklin and I swear mullet were smacking me in the side of the face. Worst day ever. Thanks Tampa.

But I ride with Rainman and STB as often as humanly possible so I am sure there is more in my future .

Probably been a lot more memorable occasions over the years but this one sticks in my mind.

I first got my bike licence back in about 1980 and started riding with my brother and his mates from a small social bike club.
The "Graverats" we used to call ourselves.
Most of the guys had had started out on Honda 4's and Kwaka 9's but already progressed up to Harleys. My first road bike was a 69 T120.

Was mid winter and we'd ridden about 120 mile across to Griffith for a party at a 1% clubhouse.
The next morning I'm a bit seedy and unaware that the guys were about to start heading home. By the time I'd got my boots on and packed my sh!t up half of them had already headed off to get fuel and I quickly followed.
When I had finished fuelling up they had already left the servo again and headed straight home.
Back at the clubhouse the others had gone as well but I didn't know till after I'd ridden all the way into the compound again.

I quickly turned around and headed for home thinkin to myself what pricks they all were for not stickin around to wait for me.
It was bloody cold, the fog was pretty thick and could only see about 1/4 a mile in front for most of the trip.

After an hour or so of riding by myself I passed a few guys stopped on the side of the road syphoning fuel from one bike to another.
10 or 15 minutes later, same thing different group.
I just rode past laughing at em knowing I was 10 mile from home and haden't even hit reserve.

Was first back to the clubhouse and had the fire lit before any others even got there.

JoseyR3Wales said:

I've crossed the Howard Franklin and I swear mullet were smacking me in the side of the face. Worst day ever. Thanks Tampa.

But I ride with Rainman and STB as often as humanly possible so I am sure there is more in my future .

Click to expand...

of couarse they will be more

i wouldnt call this my funniest ride but i was working in savannah ga and was coming home to tn bout 30 min after i left started to rain not bad then it got pretty hard so i pulled off under a overpass for a short period of time then headed on out by the time i got to atlanta ga it was raining cats and dog and it was in the middle of rush hour already had bout 3 inches of water on the road and the only thing i was riding by was the tail lights in front of me after i made it thru atlanta the rain got lighter as closer to home i got the trip took bout 8 hours when normally it would take 6 i think i wasnt in no rain maybe 2 hours of the whole trip

In 1975 I and two room mates took off from Nacogdoches to what was commonly known as "Splash Day" or the official opening of the beach at Galveston, TX. There were three bikes all choppers. Remember this was 1975. One bike was a 1950_ish panhead chopper w shovel head replacements and a loong girder front end. The second was a custom 350 honda w 14 over springer (believe it or not bored to 500) The cylinder sleeves were paper thin. 13.5 quarter mile! And my bike a 650 Tiger (single carb) bold on hard tail 12 over tubes and ~15 degree rake w king and queen seat w taaaaall sissy bar. A really nice looking bike (I gotta find the pics). Anyway.... the Amal carb (I called it an animal carb) worked just fine until it got a little water on it. We made the trip down w no problems, had a great weekend. Of course rain hits late Sunday and we head back in dark slow cold drizzle. I was running a battery eliminator w 2 headlites both only having 1157 bulbs. The problem with the carb was when it got water on it the slide would freeze in whatever position it was in before it got wet. Long story made shorter, I would ride the brake with the clutch out to lug down the motor while going through towns. Did fine untile we got to Cleveland, TX. Bottom line, I wound up hitting a pothole and the back wheel came down spinning causing me the go across a railroad track on my arse. My buddy behind me almost kicked me in the face. The good news was I got to ride the rest of the way in the truck following us.