That's a little too much rain
No, I’m not talking about the beach. I was surfing the net, checking out some biker sites I’m sure, when my spousal unit surprised me with “Let’s go to Omaha on the bike.” Not being sure I had heard what I did, I inquired as to the exact nature of the conversation piece with a highly intelligent response of “Huh?” Once again the spousal unit uttered the words I was positive I hadn’t heard, “Lets’ ride up to Omaha and see Tim and Jess and the kids.” “You mean ride the Harley to Omaha?” was my calculating question, determined to whittle down to the bottom line. “Sure.” was the swift reply. “Ok” said I, “but you realize that means you’ll have to actually ride on the Harley to Omaha.” “Well of course.” came the terse reply. I said to myself “Myself, your fact finding mission had best come to a close.”
Riding in the rain, no, not in Spain
Road trip!!! I fired up the mapping software and began planning the run from KC to Omaha. After some consultation with the spousal unit we decided to just run the super slab up to Omaha. I-29 N to 370 W would run us pretty straight to the part of the Omaha burbs that we needed to hit.
We were up early on Saturday morning and it was gorgeous. Bright sunny skies, with just a hint of partly-cloudy to keep from getting baked to a crackly-crunch made for high spirits that morning. We rolled up 29 and past St. Joe with no problems. Shortly after the plains began to level out and the rolling hills gave way to mile after mile of farm fields, it became clear that Mother had decided the wind needed to blow with gusto that day. So on up to Omaha we motored at a very pronounced lean, getting buffeted around pretty badly. To her credit, the spousal unit took most of this in stride with only a mildly irritated “Man, its windy today.” during one of our stops.
That's one wet StreetGlide
We arrived at our destination of La Vista NE about mid-morning and after a short lunch and a quick visit with the spousal unit’s Niece and her husband Tim, who happens to be a Lieutenant Commander in the U.S. Navy, (Go Navy!!) We spent the remaining afternoon and evening at the house, visiting with family and playing with the kids. We talked and ate and threw back some brewskies until the wee hours but we finally had to give up and call it a day. It had been trying to rain all evening, and hope I did that it was not a forbearance of things to come. Little did I know that my feelings of dread concerning the weather were not without merit.
Sunday dawned gray and rainy, and I was looking forward to the ride home about as much as a root canal. We did the breakfast thang and hung around a while and let things dry out and it started looking like it was going to be a righteous ride home. We left the house in La Vista at 2:00 pm figuring we’d motor on home easy and roll in at 6:30ish at the latest. How little did we know. We had an absolutely gorgeous ride from Omaha, through the little stretch of Iowa and about the first hour into MO. Then things started getting dark and things started getting gray and as we eased on into a fuel stop, we noticed another pair of bikers getting their rain gear on. We’d see them several times during the remainder of the ride, but we didn’t know it. After another short consultation with the spousal unit we decided it would be best to err on the side of prudence, and started digging out our rain gear too. After about 15 minutes of snaps, zips and Velcro hell, we were once again ready to be on our way into the great beyond, keen in our search for adventure. Yeah, right. I mumbled to the spousal unit that “now that we’ve put all this stupid rain gear on, you know it won’t rain.” I have to stop sayin stuff like that.