DUSTIN: Soaked and frozen
I managed to sell a girlfriend on a romantic autumn getaway, complete with comfortable accommodations, fall colours, and fireplaces, but Mother Nature had decidedly different plans for us.
It had taken ages to convince the prim and proper young lady to ride on the back of a motorcycle with me. After a meticulous, ongoing campaign over the course of weeks and months, I strategically pleaded my case by slipping hints about happy couples that ride together and reassuring her of the safety precautions I was taking to be a responsible rider.
My persistence paid off when she agreed to take a short ride. She surprised me (and possibly herself) at how much she enjoyed the experience of gearing up and cruising around the neighbourhood. She even began asking when we would go again. The goal post then moved to a weekend-long excursion.
Having the luxurious BMW K1300GT at my disposal for the week, I felt that the smooth, quiet and comfortable bike featured welcoming accommodations for a passenger and their belongings. I saw this as my opportunity to ease her into two-wheeled travel.
I painstakingly arranged a route through Ontario’s Grey-Bruce region that would see us meandering through small towns where we would stay in quaint, cozy accommodations, but my earnest intentions were spoiled by a weather system that swiftly ushered in teeth-chattering temperatures and relentless precipitation. It varied from that damp drizzle that seeps into your bones, to an outright torrential downpour. Regardless of intensity, it didn’t let up for four days.
She kept up a brave, calm facade and to her credit did not gripe, complain or play the blame game. Looking back with the benefit of hindsight, I choose to recall the times spent warming up in the hotel room or enjoying a post-ride scotch in the Jacuzzi rather than the numb extremities and ice-cold shoulders. As good a sport as she was about it, that was the last time she joined me on a motorcycle trip.
