Northwinds and the smell of rain

Today's article comes courtesy of UKBike member Mike, who shares his views on winter riding...


South Downs, New Year's Day 2002 - shade...


...and sunlight

Northwinds and the smell of rain

Winter riding.

Some do, some don't – and it's a subject that tends to polarise opinion quite radically: over the years, there has been a lot of acrimonious debate and name-calling in the letters pages of the biking press, along with an awful lot of written material about how to lay a bike up for the cold months or, alternatively, how to survive out on the road.

In many respects, I view the question as being not so much one of whether you ride all year round as why you ride at all. It just so happens that bad weather – in other words, a certain amount of adversity – is a good catalyst for separating points of view on what motorcycling is all about.

There can be no doubt that increased prosperity (...albeit that may be on the way out...!) and various economic and social drivers have resulted in significant changes to attitudes and expectations. It is commonplace to have multi-vehicle ownership and a choice of transport. There is a great deal more reliance on the convenience and use of cars to ferry around children, partners, friends and purchases. And there is a much higher expectation of comfort and ease while doing so.

There is, in fact, a fairly valid argument that it is demonstrating nothing but sheer bloody-mindedness to stick to two wheels come hell or high water – especially when there is no need to do so. There isn't even the economic argument that bikes are cheaper anymore: except in the very small-capacity arena, any ownership and running cost differential is negligible. In fact, it's more expensive per mile to run a big-bore sportsbike than a clean, green family runaround.

All of which is fair enough, except... why was it again that you ride at all?

The answer probably won't be: because it's a practical, everyday form of transport that can be made to do pretty much everything necessary – although it can be and in some cases most certainly is. Equally, it probably won't be: because there are few other ways to successfully negotiate our increasingly-crowded roads and towns – although, again, it's a valid reason and the decider for some people. In all likelihood, the answer that comes back will be: because I enjoy it.

Good answer, other than "enjoy" being too anaemic a word to properly describe the depth of feeling that biking inspires – or, at least, should inspire. That'll basically be because there is nothing which beats the freedom and exhilaration of being on two wheels. It's an experience to be enjoyed, treasured even: the chance to be a part of the world rather than watching it pass by through a window.

Okay, then: so what is it that stops you from getting that same enjoyment out of winter riding?

To borrow an almost perfect quote, "Four wheels move the body, two wheels move the soul". Is it noticeably improved by adding "...unless it's a bit damp, or cold or possibly just cloudy but might rain later, in which case take the car to be on the safe side"? Possibly not. In any case, weather can be a capricious beast, especially in Britain, especially lately, where the winters have been mild and wet... and so have the summers.

Clothing technology has improved significantly, even over the last decade: waterproof, thermally-lined garments that genuinely do work are readily available. I spend a lot of my winter riding time quite comfortably warm and dry (...something that wasn't necessarily the case back in the eighties and nineties!). Of course there are cold snaps and hard frosts, not days when a hundred-mile thrash would be my first thought, but riding for business or pleasure is still eminently possible. In a bad year there are perhaps a handful of days when there is ice or snow deep enough that I might take the train to work instead of the bike. In a good year there aren't any.

So is it the road conditions? It is a common misconception that riding in winter is akin to spending a day at the DoT skid-pan, that every corner is a lethal hazard coated in wet slime or ice and that the only option for a biker is to wobble round like a novice taking the CBT cone section.

In fact, it's nowhere near as bad as that. True, it's not wise to expect to explore the upper levels of a litre bike's performance envelope, but the grip and feel of modern tyres and chassis is quite phenomenal these days. Learning to use it is a good argument in itself, as is being able to read road surfaces, to ride smoothly and with control, assessing and understanding limits. Certainly, the roads can be harder to negotiate and some judgement is required – but regular riding in poorer conditions is guaranteed to improve machine control and confidence. Not only that, but the improvement in riding skills will pay dividends come the spring.

Perhaps it's the thought of road salt and acid rain turning a once-shiny motorcycle into a rotted, rusted hulk? To be fair, that used to be quite a serious problem to keep on top of, and decent build quality and finish was far and away the best reason for buying a Honda.

Even so, it' s always been possible to spray everything with WD40 (or ACF50 for the wealthy), let the grime build up on top of that and clean it all off when the weather improved. A bit of elbow grease (effort involved largely depending on age of machine...) on the fasteners and cheaper alloy parts usually gets it all looking ship-shape again. In any case, motorcycles are meant to be used - it does them no favours at all to stand around idle for months on end – and it doesn't hurt any if they look like they've been used, too.

Or perhaps – and maybe the only excuse that really holds water – it's that there isn't much of a social scene going on: fewer ride-outs, gatherings, friendly faces parked up at the local coffee stop. Does that fundamentally affect the enjoyment of riding, though? It shouldn't, unless it isn't the riding that mattered in the first place. Fair enough, if it's buying into the motorcycle lifestyle rather than the bike that motivates an individual and full marks for admitting that to be the case. Of course, you always have the option of organising something yourself...

My take on it is: there's absolutely nothing that stops me getting the same amount of enjoyment out of winter riding. In some ways, I even prefer it – it gives me a stronger bond with my bike, in the way that shared experiences always do – and there's as much satisfaction to be found in precision as there is in speed. The roads are usually quieter out of town and there's a special, stark beauty to the landscapes and the skies that isn't found at any other time. A more sedate season, true, but not one without charms of its own.

There are certainly others out there who – for whatever reasons of their own – can be seen every day, as I am, mixing it with the elements. Hopefully they're all wearing the same kind of grin under their helmets from doing so. It's quite noticeable that the percentage of waves, nods and acknowledgements from fellow bikers goes up dramatically over the winter months...

If you don't agree and it's not for you, well, that's fine. I'm not seeking to change your mind or tell you that's wrong. All I'm saying is that you might want to ask yourself the question and give it a try. You may be pleasantly surprised by just how much fun it's possible to have on two wheels, whatever the weather. And if not, that's fine too. It suits me enormously to have a large number of good-as-new, never-seen-rain, low-mileage machines available on the secondhand market...

- Mike Liassides a.k.a. endemoniada_88