Winter’s around the bend, frost is on the roofs and the heater’s kickin’ in every morning. You’d think that would be a very clear sign that it’s time to hang up the helmet and dump fuel stabilizer in the motorcycle tank.
But no. Seems I’m hooked. Just a bit.
It’s like fishing, when I tell myself I’ll leave a fishing spot after just one more cast, a cast that never comes. Every time I hook the Honda up to the battery tender, I lie to myself saying, “Self, time to put the bike away for the winter.” A day or two later I’m waiting for the engine to warm up for another ride.
It’s been cold in the a.m., no more than 40°F. Often less. Then almost as cold during the ride home from work in the afternoon.
It’s not a bad thing, because when I’m riding, I seem to see so much more; smell so much more; and actually enjoy the commute so much more.
But soon, Mother Nature may win. There’s only so many layers I can add and still ride without looking like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.
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