This morning, I went to my 9am class at UBC on two wheels. The skies were overcast, but the roads were dry and the weather network promised a sunny afternoon. The weather network is a fucking liar.
I arrive, park at the meter and head to class. Halfway through lecture I peek through the crack in the front door and notice people in the hallway looking out their windows, mouths slightly agape and eyes pointing up. Whispers of unrest. Something is not well. Have they spotted a UFO? Is the building across the street on fire? What's going on out there? I stop paying attention to Query Optimization and instead focus my attention on the possibilities.
By the time I get out, I finally see what they were looking at. It is snowing like the middle of January, big multi-dimensional flakes charging in all directions. It is snowing up and down and sideways and across, my overcast spring morning turning into a wild snow frenzy. It could be worse as far as Canada goes, but I was raised in warmer climates and by the end of March, I am usually thinking about beaches and swimming and worrying about sharks, not being stranded on campus with the snow cascading and only two wheels to get me home.
But the roads are dry. The white stuff has not yet accumulated on the ground and traction appears to be sufficient. At this time, traffic is light in the home direction. Friends suggest I take the bus and leave the bike. I wonder aloud if the bus driver will let me take the motorcycle on the bus. Ryan tells me, "It was nice knowing ya."
I weigh my options.
I reach my Ninja 650R and find its windshield, instruments and mirrors completely covered by a thick white blanket. The sight is hilarious and terrifying at the same time.
I start 'er up, hop on and immediately feel my butt get cold and wet as moisture soaks through my jeans. I take a ginger ride around the block to feel for the traction, find it sufficient and start tip-toeing it home. Home is about 15 mins away. I make gun-fighter eyes and tell myself to focus.
By the time I get on to the highway, the flakes are hitting me so hard I have to clear my visor every few seconds to keep my vision from being buried. I hum along in the slow lane, hazards on and pray that people can see me. Not many people are heading in my direction. By the end of the highway, my hands have gone numb. At stop lights I reach down for the warm engine, hoping to revive them. It works, sorta.
Thankfully, the rest of my short ride goes without drama and I get home cold and wet and uncomfortable, but safe and happy and alive. It was kinda fun but definitely not something I'd volunteer for again unless I had to.
P.S. On my way there, I exchanged nods with a girl heading to class in a red/white R6. I hope you made it home all right. You were wearing nothing but lululemon.
Anyone else get caught riding in the snow today? What about other snow-riding stories you can share?