Fearing What's Ahead

Last week I rambled on about fear and its effects on the motorcyclist when riding. In the right dose it can be a good thing, but too much of it will kill you (applicable to so many other things in life, I know). Yesterday morning I was out riding and fear was there, hidden in one of the dark corners of my mind of which there are so many. This fear was different though, as it was a more general feeling; not a specific sort of "watch out for that tree" or "cellphone wearing SUV cager" kind of fear, which creeps up on you when you least expect it (so always expect it, eh?). Nope, this was a fear that starts to rear its ugly mug every year about this time: winter's coming.

OK, I'll admit that it's rather grim to start talking about the "W" word in late August, but I've already seen the signs: days are getting shorter fast, the nights are way cooler, and - horror of horrors - I've even seen the boys at the Dept. of Transportation working on their snowplows! I suppose this yearly cycle is something that should be embedded in my soul, having been born in the snow on that January morning thirty-some years ago; but sometimes I can't help but wonder if there is any truth to the concept of reincarnation, and if so I'm quite convinced that my previous life (or lives) was spent somewhere warm with no snow, or freezing rain, or frost heaved roads, etc.

Late August is always a rather blue time of year for me, as it signals the downward spiral towards winter. Everything before the 8th month is a build-up, but after there's little hope until next spring. Oh, there's still alot of good riding time left before the V-Strom gets put into hibernation (last year roads were good until mid-december), but the added layers of clothing, thicker gloves and frost on the helmet visor somehow take a bit away from the fun of it.

Oh yeah, and riding in a cage just isn't fun (they lean the wrong way in corners you know)!

Bah, enough doom and gloom, I better go out riding before December gets here.