Monday, August 4, 2014

just singin' in the rain













Record rains swept through So Cal this past weekend, with Escondido setting records.  Rainfall on one record setting day was 0.05” of rain, or about the thickness of paper.  Yet it set a record, and of course, we were out riding in it, just not by request.  But people ask “what happens when it rains on a motorcycle?” and the answer is simple-you get wet.  As if we have the same safety and security as they do while steering in the rain, one hand on the wheel, one on the cell, radio and AC on, dry and secure.  While the only thing between us and the downpour is a rainsuit, if you are smart enough to put one on before it rains.  They are still effective after you are wet, you just don’t get that safe in an SUV effect.  But over the years I/we have been caught in many rain storms while riding, here are some that stand out.
Riding the Tiger on I-70 outside Xenia, Ohio the sky in back is so sunny that it blinds me in the mirrors, while ahead is black.  And then it pours, so I decide to get off, only to find a Mazda hood deep in rain at the bottom of the exit.  Knowing not to stop I keep going, and find safety for a while under a gas canopy.  And then the bowling alley next door gets hit by lightning....good thing I had my rain suit on.  Later on that same trip, after leaving Bro. Willie’s in Nashville, I encounter severe storms in Oklahoma.  After eating at Lucille’s in Clinton, I talk with some Gold Wing riders who are suiting up, while I go west into the rain.  Before the next exit, it pours, and when the wind blows a semi pulling dual trailers across two lanes, I get off, meeting other bikers putting on our rain suits under a truck stop.  Then on again until I cannot see, and get off, again rain so deep it is up to the Triumph lettering on my tank.  But I keep going, finding solace in a Route 66 museum, while the Tiger is soaking in the rain.  Later when it stops, the winds blow so bad for 200 miles I wish it would only rain.
I had spent the night in Fargo, and when it rains mainly on the plain, it pours.  Suiting up, I ride to Dickenson, over 200 miles away, in rain and wind so bad the sides of my tread on my tires are scuffed.  Dry inside, the rain stops and so do I, as the temp drops to 39 degrees into Montana, and the warm rain is missed-or was my mind so fried that the rain wins out over cold?  Theresa and I left Madison, Wisconsin in the rain, she suited up, me after 10 miles and one good downpour.  Pulling into the Machine Shed Restaurant in Oshkosh, by gosh, when I took off my rain suit, my crotch was soaked.  And walking through the restaurant for one of the best buffets ever, it looked like I had wet my pants.  Parents giggled, and turned their kids away, we just laughed to ourselves.  Theresa dry, me....well you get it.
I was to meet Rex in Prescott, and we would ride to So Cal.  It was clear when I left Durango, but by Arizona it was torrential rains.  I kept on to Verde Valley, finding a room where the manager let me put my KZ750 under his porch, and I called Rex.  Who had called the Arizona Highway Patrol to look for me, but by the next day, the sun was out, and I was dry, and we were off to San Diego.  Coming back after riding Highway 1, we were to meet in Durango the next week.  But it was that next Sunday when I read of his obituary in the paper.  Rain couldn’t stop us, but his over enlarged heart could.  The only ride I never finished with the people I left with.  A different type of rain ended that trip.
And there was the Labor Day last minute ride to Dayton, on my R90S, rain and cold for 1500 miles, most in the dark, getting lost when an Ohio patrolman found me, and led me back to the freeway, “people disappear here and are never found.”  Riding from Ft. Lauderdale to New Jersey with Por Favor on the back, who melted his shoes on my Dunstall pipes trying to keep warm, again the R90S.  The ride in Jersey, when pulling up to a stop, we look up and a bug dump truck driver offered us a roll of paper towels.  He must ride, he knew how much they helped.  So maybe that deluge of 0.05” inches wasn’t much, but only Theresa’s second ride on her own bike in it.  And we made it home OK, dodging rain again the next day.  With always the same wonderful smell after the rain, the air clean, flowers greener, and my bike filthy.  Amazing how 15 minutes of rain can take 2 hours to clean up after.
John B. Sebastian sang “I’ll paint rainbows all over your blues,” and even God gave Noah a rainbow to remind him of the storm he had gone through.  A sign of God’s grace, and how He never left Noah and his family, but rained down judgment on those who turned against Him.  It takes a storm to produce a rainbow, but like God they are really there all the time, it just takes God light to shine through the skies to produce one.  ROYGBIV, all the colors of the rainbow, a thing of beauty.  But it takes a storm to reveal one, and in life it takes a storm for us to see the glory of God.  We don’t seek Jesus when things are going good, but let it rain, and all who ride pray for dryness.  For it is in the storms of life that we seek Jesus, and whether He calls us out of the boat, or calms the storm with His breath, He is in control.  Sometimes the storms are self induced, we never took the storm warnings seriously, and paid the price.  Sometimes it was the time of the season, but we rode on anyway.  Sometimes we were caught by surprise, but they never caught God by surprise.  And in every storm He is that rainbow wanting to show you mercy and grace.  He is like Ester Sunday, you cannot have it without Good Friday, it takes a storm to fully reveal God’s grace.  Yet we pout, complain, and get upset when it rains on our plans.  The Bible tells us that the “rain falls on the just and the unjust.”  It shows no partiality, and while some pray for sunshine, farmers and others pray for rain.  And living in an arid area, we get excited when it rains, for like the fragrance after a summer rain, Jesus is the same in our lives.  Always there, in the midst of the storm, but we fail to see Him, so God gives the rainbow to remind us.  And into life rain must fall...only He truly knows if you are the just or the unjust.  Just imagine the smile on Noah’s face, telling all those aboard, “look up in the sky, all the colors.  God’s majesty.”  After the storm.
And so I am reminded of a Gordon Lightfoot concert at the Garden State Arts Center, an outside auditorium.  And a shower passing over for a few minutes, and how Gordon then broke into “Rainy Day People,” one of his hits.  And the crowd went wild.  We are all rainy day people without the light of God shining on us.  We are without hope and rainbows with no Jesus.  We live in darkness without the sun, and the Son to light the way.  Look for that Son in the midst of your darkness today.  There is a rainbow just waiting to remind you that God is with you in and through the storm.  He won’t take you around it, but will take you through it.  And walking in the midst of the storm, will keep you just singin’ in the rain.  Laugin’ and singin, in the rain.  What a glorious feeling.  Now about that rain suit...
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com