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Saddlebags Carry Good Stuff

I was riding up to the clubhouse Friday night for our Christmas party and was saddled up and ready to go before I thought about the weather. It’s been getting cold here lately (well, cold by SoCal standards, at least: in the high 40s) and all I was wearing was a T-shirt, a flannel, and my cut. It occurred to me that it might be nice to have my leather coat on under my cut.

Problem was that I’m a lazy, lazy man and I didn’t feel like going through all the hassle of putting the kickstand down, walking into the house, taking the coat off the hook in the closet, taking off my cut, putting the coat on, putting the cut back on over it, walking back outside, getting back on the bike, and putting the kickstand up again. Yes, I’m that lazy: the effort of putting the kickstand up precluded everything else that followed on that list.

So I thought to myself, Naaaah, I don’t need the leather. I’ve got a windshield and it’s not that far. I can suck it up if it gets cold.

Well. I’m here to tell you that cold is a hard thing to suck up when you’re in the wind living it as opposed to in the garage blowing it off. It gets to ya. I was heading north into the hills at the I-5/CA-14 transition, 10 miles from the clubhouse, when Naaaah, I don’t need the leather echoed, mocking, in my head and the jaw-clenching shivering really set in. I was freezing when I finally got there.

For the ride home, I went old-skool: I punched holes in a garbage bag and wore it under my cut. It really made a difference. Unfortunately, I was still wearing my open-face helmet with a windshield that dumps air right onto my forehead, and worn-out leather gloves with holes between the fingers, so I couldn’t feel my face or hands. And on top of that, I rode home with a hangaround who got confused and took the wrong freeway exit so we ended up on the 5 north into Santa Clarita where it got even colder. He almost earned a new road name with that one: Frosty.

So when I got home, I was pretty well frozen through-and-through and swore that next time I’d make the extra effort to go inside and get my leather. The last thing I did before going in the house was open my saddlebag to get something out of it.

And there in the saddlebag, right on top, just inches from me the whole freezing ride up to the party and back home again, there was my leather jacket.

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