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Page 9 of 20 Our final test that day still lay ahead. We noticed other groups of riders, traveling in packs, wearing their club's logo on the back of their vests. We waved or nodded as we passed them on the side of the highway. It soon became apparent why they stopped - the rain that had been threatening all afternoon suddenly chose that moment to make itself known. You have never experienced rain until you are riding on the back of a motorcycle through a Colorado summer, wearing a cotton T-shirt and blue jeans. Cold water hit our bare skin at 65 miles per hour. Stinging our arms and faces, we both tried to duck behind the windshield. Ahead of us, Roy and his daughter valiantly led the way through the storm. We kept waiting for the signal from Roy to pull over and stop under a bridge, so the rain suits could be put to use. Every underpass was filled with cyclists doing just that - why couldn't we? About fifteen minutes later, we literally drove out of the rain and into the sunshine. Our tense position behind the meager protection of the windshield loosened up and we sat up straight again. It was not until we reached the hotel sometime later that the riddle about the rainsuits was solved - Roy LOVED to ride his motorcycle in the rain!
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