"Check that out," Nick announced looking out of the window. It was about three in the morning and Fred and I crowded round looking out at the strange and miraculous scene outside. It was raining without a doubt. I can't say that I envy the cops out on the streets when it's raining, but it does tend to slow the drunks down a little if it rains early enough in the evening when it keeps people home. This rain came too late for that and when I left the station just before six this morning it was still coming down.It happened that yesterday I got a new riding jacket by Tourmaster which I found on eBay for $110 delivered. It's sold as a warmer and waterproof jacket than the summer mesh jacket I use year round and which is rather inadequate in winter for my tropical skin. Now was the time to test my Tourmaster Pivot.
I love riding in the rain- when I'm properly dressed! The air is fresh with ozone and the smells of all the grasses and trees (and trash cans!) released by the moisture. The road shines under the street lights and tucked away inside my warm jacket and waterproof trousers I could enjoy the cold air on my face without feeling cold or wet. It was snug in there, and listening to the Bonneville hum through the gears without missing a beat gave the ride home a more than usual feel of flying through the night.The rain dissipated passing Boca Chica on the four lane stretch of highway one and I thought the morning was going to be a disappointment as the air dried and the view of clouds and moon light rose up over the islands and water of the Saddlebunch Keys. A cruiser with a bright halogen headlight and annoyingly bright spotlights tucked in behind me to take advantage of my knowledge of the road and I kept hoping he would teach me a lesson and pass but he was too smart for that. I led him through Sugarloaf and out the other side, plunging back into darkness beyond the street lights at the Fire Station. I saw a gray mist in the dawn's early light ahead and a sudden blast of frigid air preceded the flood of rain. I slowed to 50, then 45 and tucked behind the Parabellum windshield. The cruiser closed in, obviously afraid of missing a turn in the sudden fog of water that surrounded us. The traffic light at Sugarloaf came and went, trucks roared past heading to Key West with the day's groceries and suddenly we were back out into the crisp dry air beyond the storm.Cheyenne, alone at home, was fast asleep when I arrived and I had peeled off my waterproofs by the time she came downstairs ready to jump in the car for an early morning walk destination. I was dry under the jacket so that test worked. Summer is here at last, properly.