Undoubtedly, this has been a very hot summer riding season. The Pittsburgh area received no fewer than 20 plus-90 degree days which makes daytime riding something of a chore. I’ve been fortunate enough to own a couple of perforated textile riding jackets and some riding jeans specifically designed to be both protective in case of a fall and (relatively) thin enough to help protect my hide from the ravages of the asphalt. I can’t be the only motorcyclist who owns this type of modern, lightweight riding gear, but I’d swear I am, especially when riding on blistering, hot days. Just about every other rider I encounter seems to be wearing the same “uniform” when piloting a two-wheeler these days, a minimalist get-up consisting of a pair of nylon exercise shorts, rubber Crocs gardening shoes or slip-on guy footwear and a flimsy T-shirt. Helmets are seldom seen in our neck of the woods since the state’s mandatory helmet law was struck down back in 2005, but I still can’t wrap my brain around the carelessness with which the average motorcycle rider approaches safety equipment.
I often meet other riders at roadside rest stops, convenience stores and gas stations and I often make it a point to ask why they’re riding in less fabric than your average stripper’s onstage costume Most times they simply offer a sheepish grin and a brief comment of two about how hot and uncomfortable the weather is before speeding off as if gravity and injury are simply things that happen to other people. Of course, this sort of wishful thinking and psychological transferrence is something we all use to rationalize away the inherent dangers of our favorite sport; we must convince ourselves that accidents are incidents that happen to other people, nbiot us. If we didn’t, I’d imagie it would be impossible to continue riding.
But people really should give themselves a fighting chance out on these busy, congested roads. My practiced comeback for complaints that it’s too hot to protect ourselves is this: “if you think it’s hot now, try spending a few weeks in the hospital’s skin graft unit. Now that’s hot!” I always tell them. My words are falling on deaf ears, obviously, which is a real shame. If we, the riding public can’t be bothered to take our sport seriously and responsibly, how can we ever expect lawmakers to do the same. This time of year I’m frequently finding myself traversing roads covered in oil and gravel chips, an idiotic, inconvenient road resurfacing concept no doubt put in place by legislators who never once consider how this traction-averse goop will affect bike riders. But when they see us on the roads, dressed like we’re all headed to a beach volleyball game instead of operating a powerful, motorized vehicle on dangerous, crowded road, they likely think we’ve already exhibited that we don’t give a damn about our own safety so why should they.