Riding Motorcycles in Winter

When I lived in Grand Junction, we rode motorcycles mostly all winter. Now, I never was one of those seriously die-hard riders--like the folks in Minnesota who affix spikes to their tires and head out into the white stuff to play--who waxes fearless in the face of contaminated road surfaces, but the cold didn't seem like too much of a problem.

Some riders--like Jude Hayes--prefer to suspend riding when it gets cold. Others prefer to keep riding and take advantage of heated clothing and heated bike surfaces--such as heated grips and even heated seats, but the "adventure rider" crowd positively embraces the idea. Better have a beefy alternator and battery to deal with all those electrons the heated vest, and heated grips, and even heated socks slurp up. It's a lot like cell phone data plans--it's easy to use up your allotment before you know it.

I've had several BMWs and all of them came with heated grips. Worked great. I've used Velcro-secured heated grips on other bikes, too. I've been a fan of the heated vest, also. Other than that, I'm pretty old-school. Thermal underwear. Jackets with good liners--and armor, of course. A nylon balaclava under my helmet--a full-face helmet with a breath shield. Warm socks and thick riding boots. I found a couple insulated riding suits that weren't too bulky--Harley makes a great line for that, as do dozens of other moto clothing companies. The challenge is wearing enough to stay warm, without degrading your mobility on the bike to the point that it becomes a safety issue.

It takes a couple of cold seasons and lots of trial-and-error to find the right clothing for the job. After a while, you get so you can look at the thermometer and know exactly which clothes and how many to wear for the day's ride. Always bring motorcycle luggage so you can store clothing shed at the lunch stop.

The great thing about Grand Junction is that when the cold comes to the Grand Valley, you can don the aforementioned duds and still keep riding. In upstate New York, cold-weather riding is more problematic. First of all, we have leaves. And I mean LOTS of leaves. If you've never been to the Northeast, you can hardly believe how many species of deciduous trees thrive here. When leaves meet road, usually after a rainstorm, they make an extremely slippery surface. And a non-uniform one, at that.

You'll be happily motoring along that damp road and round a corner to sail into a huge patch of wet leaves plastered all over the road. Hopefully you didn't take that corner too fast! I realize that Colorado has leaves, too--from pretty aspens and cottonwoods--but it's like saying the heat is the same in Ohio as it is in Death Valley. We have LEAVES here. They down a lot of bikes every year.

Compared to New York and New England, the Western Slope is a delightfully dry place. Our relative humidity tends to be much higher here--not like Florida, but higher. Think "black ice." Yes, it can form anywhere, but it's much more likely to form in a humid climate. When you ride below the freezing point--or even if bridges and other normally cold surfaces dip below 32 degrees, but the air temperature is higher--black ice can form. And you know what? It likes to hide under, you guessed it, those infernal leaves!

Our snow is more persistent, too. It can snow a couple inches on Junction in the morning, and by afternoon, the roads can be dry--the snow just sublimates--goes right from a solid to a gas. Not in New York. It hangs around, slowly melting and refreezing that night. Sometimes after the first snow, the roads never really get clear again for the rest of the winter. Even if the snow goes away temporarily, there is another problem.

We have EVIL road salt. When the road needs to be de-iced, Colorado favors magnesium chloride. Sure, it's an ugly black slime on your windshield as you head over Vail Pass, but when the snow is over, mag chloride dries up and blows away. Not so in the Northeast. We have the nastiest road salt on the planet. It stains the roads bright white, it clings, it lingers, and boy howdy is it corrosive!

New Yorkers tend to winterize the bike and tuck it into the garage with a cover and a battery tender come the first application of road salt. For some reason, when we do have a lull in the snow, most towns and cities don't bother to send out the street sweepers and police up the salt. They wait until, like, May, usually, causing me to start growling in March that it's time to get on with the job.

When the winter holidays come, dress warm, ride safe, and contemplate with pity those of us whose bikes are relegated to snoozing peacefully in the garage while we try to alleviate cabin fever with mere sleds up in the Adirondacks. When I was a kid, we called them snowmobiles . . . but that's a post for another time. I'm definitely becoming an old lady--but hey, then I can be just like A.J. Pierpont! Well, maybe like A.J. but a few billion dollars lighter. . ..

Here's our Jude Hayes quote for the day:

“Holidays are just one big diet disaster to you, aren’t they, Jude?”

“I prefer to think of them as celebratory opportunities.” I patted my waistline, aware that by Christmas I might be shopping for new jeans. Hmm. Maybe no joke there. Oh well. There was always the long winter to lose the extra holiday pounds before bathing suit season. Oh, wait—I hadn’t donned one of those things in years. The only gauge that really matters to me is whether I feel like a bratwurst stuffed into my motorcycle leathers by the time riding season rolls around in the spring.