GUT CHECK

June 8^th, 2004

Gary Houglan

When asked why I waited until I was older (38 and 41) to have kids, I explain that I had a potentially fatal disease earlier in my life. I was YOUNG and STUPID. Today, I'm OLD and STUPID. The difference between these two conditions is velocity. I still exhibit acts of stupidity, but they don't seem to hurt as much since I'm going slower.

An example of this condition occurred last week. I had planned to visit to another stop on HROT's Virginia Grand Tour. The problem was that on the day of the trip, I woke up to an overcast sky. Checking the weather report on the Internet, the forecast called for rain showers turning to thunderstorms in the afternoon (80% chance of rain). Not believing that I had the complete story, I clicked on the radar picture. This showed the storm line off to the west around I-85 (about 100 miles away).

This is where you get an insight into my ability to reason. I looked at the radar and calculated that the storm was 100 miles away. Given that the winds were at 15-20 miles per hours. I performed simple math (100 miles / 20 mph = 5 hours). Estimating the trip would take 5 hours, I concluded that I "MIGHT" get rained on as I was returning to Virginia Beach. Would I let a "forecast" stop me? After all, there was a 20% chance it wasn't going to rain. Was I going to look at the glass as 80% empty or 20% full? Was I a recreational motorcycle rider or a "BIKER"? A GUT CHECK was needed.

You guessed it. It was no longer a day ride, it was now a quest for self-expression. Of course, I threw a jacket into the saddlebags as a gesture of maturity. It was a great ride up to Reedsville. I crossed the HRBT, exited on 17-North at J. Clyde, and turned onto VA-3. Rumbling through Middlesex County (I just like saying Middlesex), I explained to myself that more cars were using headlights during the day, the solar streetlight was malfunctioning, and my goggles made the sky look darker than it really was. I continued up VA-200 and US-360 until I reached the checkpoint.

Proud of the fact that I had made it to Reedsville without getting wet (I ignored the fact I had been traveling away from the storm), I decided to get a quick lunch and gas up for the return trip. At the gas station, I felt a few drops of water tapping on my head. Taking this as a personal message, I put on my jacket. I made a quick decision to take US-360 to US-17 in hopes of reducing my travel time. It's at this point that I started to realize I was drinking from an 80% empty glass instead of pouring into a 20% full glass.

At first, I told myself that a few steady drops of water were no problem. Heck, at 60 mph the evaporation would keep me dry. Then came the steady rain (apparently my earlier calculation about 20 mph winds wasn't going to work out). Even this was OK. Hidden behind my windshield, the only thing getting wet was my shins. (This is where I relearn a forgotten lesson.) After about an hour of steady rain, I realized that my pants had become so wet that the water soaked through my pants and ran down my leg into my waterproof boots.

As predicted, 45 minutes from home, the "Storm Line" caught up with me. Unfortunately, this occurred on that section of I-64 where all motorist come to cuss VDOT. You know the spot. Everything comes to a complete stop as the outside lanes merge into the middle lanes. There I was in a downpour with my pants soaked up to my belt, my jacket soaked to my armpits, and the water level in my boots at ankle depth. Having exhausted every possible position to stay dry, I realized I had failed.

Ah, you say, "This is where Gary admits that he is STUPID again." Well, yes. But, that's too easy. We all knew that was coming. What's important is the difference in velocity. When I was younger, I would have been cussing at Willard Scott and the weather bureau, trying to weave through traffic in the rain, yelling at motorist who got in my way or heaven forbid, splashed me. How did I react? Well if you could ask one of those motorist on I-64, they would tell you they saw the strangest sight last week during a storm. There was this STUPID guy on a motorcycle who was struck in traffic. He was soaking wet. The only dry thing on that bike was the inside of his tires. And what was this guy doing? He was whistling "Singing In The Rain" with a smile on his face.

No, I wasn't happy to be riding in the rain. To tell you the truth, I pretty much decided never to ride in the rain again unless I was trying to catch Noah's Arc II. Why the smile? Well, being older I knew that I had made the decision to be exactly where I was. I was a big boy who made another STUPID decision, and I was living with the consequences. You see, when I was younger, I just thought I was young. It wasn't until I was older that I recognized my STUPID gene. Yeah, I may still be STUPID, but I'm OLDER. VELOCITY makes all the difference.

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