A Rainy Visit

I have a son in the Navy. He flys helicopters in Fallon Nevada. Last winter he decided to outbid everyone on E-bay for a 400 KLX with 1800 miles on it. The problem was it was located in Bloomington Indiana. His solution was to have a friend of a friend who lived in Bloomington Illinois go pick it up and store it til spring arrived. The plan was to come out for a visit and we would ride back crosscountry together in May.

The usual complications set in. There was leave to be arranged, schedule conflicts, his friend got transferred to another state and had to clear the garage suddenly. One thing led to another and Sunday I got a call saying he was in Illinois with the bike in the back of a truck he borrowed in Colorado on his way to Michigan.

His friend Marcus was going to visit friends in Lansing and would drop John in Marshall Michigan so he could continue on the Kawasaki the last 75 or so miles to my house. With a rainstorm circling the area for the past week, I told John I would meet him halfway and escort him back to town.

The first part of the plan went like clockwork. I spotted the bright green Kawasaki just before the rest area we had picked for a meeting place. A quick photo and greeting and we were off, heading east toward a black wall of clouds. It didn't take long for the first sprinkles to start. I pulled under an overpass and offered rain clothes and heavy gloves. A couple of exits later, now in a downpour with lightning flashing, he took me up on the offer.

The open bike at freeway speeds was draining off body heat faster than John could generate it. We took a side road to lower the impact of the rain. I was pretty toasty on the Gold Wing but John was starting to turn a light shade of blue. After what seemed like hours, we finally pulled in to a tiny gas station in Manchester. John was soaked and frozen. A few sips of cocoa and on the road again.

By the time we made it home, another 15 miles away, the last of John's resolve was beginning to fade. I offered him a cold beer or a hot shower and he chose the latter. About half an hour later his estimated core temperature had returned to slightly less than that of an Eskimo Pie.

Monday was more rain so we decided against any long bike trips. An even better decision was to have Marcus bring the truck down and load the bike at our house for the trip west.

Tuesday morning we left early for work just as Marcus pulled in. When we got home the boys and the bike were gone.

I'm glad my son has followed in my footsteps as far as spontaneous travel goes. His visit also gave me a chance to reflect on my own youth in Alaska when my father used to take me on forced marches in the rain, only to kill a moose and commit us to a days worth of misery, cleaning and packing through the dense wet brush of the Chugach Range. This trip finally gave me a chance to pass on this family tradition of torturing sons with the elements.

It was a great visit and Ihope we have more (and warmer days).