I ride my Harley almost every day. With gas prices what they are, and the economy what it remains to be ,I figure I would have run out of money to drive to work a month ago If I had kept driving the “Taco wagon“. Oh the Taco wagon is this customized van of 1990 vintage that has a thirty gallon fuel tank. Driving it to work cost a minimum of One hundred dollars a week ,while the Harley sips about ten bucks.
With the summer rapidly approaching and just a few spring breakers still partying it up at Junkaroos on the beach, you know the afternoon showers are bound to make a few,warmups before the rainy season is officially here, .Wednesday afternoon was quite a warm-up.
I have the ride from Moody Road in North Fort Myers to Gladiolus and bass in South Fort Myers down pat A half hour in the morning, (And as long as I leave by four thirty in the afternoon ) A half hour in the afternoon. If I wait until five my ride home doubles in seat time especially since all those nice Cape Coral people started taking my bridge home at night to save from paying a toll.
So back to Wednesday. I stepped out side and checked the sky, Don’t get me wrong I don’t have a degree in meteorology but I was raised on a farm, That is to be interpreted as ---I have no formal training on the subject however I do have common sense .I could tell the rain was coming. I packed up my paperwork,cramed everything in my laptop bag and strapped it on my motorcycle.
From my office it is best to always go West on Gladiolus because of traffic so I go down to A&W Bulb Road And cut across to McGregor .I just got onto McGregor when the rain started, slow at first, then steadily increasing as I got to, and went under College. About the time I got to where Winkler cuts off the lightning started . For some reason in southwest Florida whenever it really starts raining hard and begins to lightning people in cars just stop. For them It may seem a temporary respite from the violent weather ,to stop then go on, But on a motorcycle to stop and put your wet feet down on the ground in a puddle of water while lightning is crashing all around you, gives no assurance. I was almost to colonial, and I remembers some tin roofed offices with overhangs that allowed parking. I pulled into a protected parking spot and sat for forty-five minutes while the rains continued. I carry my motorcycle jacket in my old U.S.M.C. backpack strapped onto the sissy bar and was glad to put it on as I was freezing. The rain subsided, and I slowly made my was the rest of the way home safely. When I walked into my house my boots were sloshing and I had to mop my tracks, as I was dripping huge amounts of water onto the floor. Just a taste of rainy season, but things could have been a lot worse. I could have driven a car and had nothing to write about.