The Price We Pay

Summer has certainly struck with overpowering rays of equal parts sunshine and warmth. No, no, I'm not going to go on about how hot it is in my office and how I almost fell asleep yesterday afternoon. I'm going to go on about something completely different.

Motorcycling. Aye, grand it is in this weather. Without the slipperiness of ice, the soaking of rain, and the instability of blustery winds, motorcycling is at its best.

You don't have to wear upteen layers of clothing under your gear, and your hands don't go numb because there's no chilling wind to bite through your gloves and freeze your fingers. Sure, when you take your gear off you might be sweating like an Eskimo in the Sahara, but if you keep your speed above forty-five miles-per-hour then your own slipstream keeps you cool.

The roads are also much more reliable, and your tyres warm up nice and quick. So you can put a little more faith in your own cornering abilities and the machine that's taking you around those corners.

There is a price that you pay though. A price for this warm weather.

You see, there's a certain automatic, anatomical movement that a man's body makes when it gets warm. Things... "drop" to stay cool. That's fine normally. But when you put those "dropped" parts of your anatomy between you, your bike's leather seat, and its fuel tank, you can often end up with a crushing sensation. Or at least an uncomfortable crowded feeling.

Maybe wearing motorcycle leathers instead of textiles would be the answer to this. Most bikers who ride sports bikes (i.e. most bikers full stop) wear leathers (a one-piece suit or a two-piece set), and their riding position suggests that they could quickly become even more uncomfortable than someone like myself who has an easy-going and upright posture (thanks to the Versys' high handlebars and ultra-comfy seat).

Something else I've noticed this week (particularly yesterday). In the morning I could smell salt coming in off the sea. Not surprising since I live on the seafront. But in the afternoon, as I got nearer my flat, the smell was almost overpowering.

That wouldn't be so bad if I didn't happen to hate the smell of briny salt-water. With a passion. It's sickly and nauseating. If you have ever been swimming in the sea and managed to get salt-water up your nose... well it's not a pleasant experience and all you can smell for the next hour or so is brine. Well it was like that yesterday afternoon (and this morning!). Yuck!