Meteorologists. Those silly fools are scarcely right about anything, especially in regards to weather. It has to be a high stress, thankless job. You have millions of people depending on your knowledge of the weather, especially in the summer, to help them solidify their plans. Bikers are one of the more reliant groups of people. Often we (bikers) assume that the weather report is "accurate" and dependable. We check the news on T.V., the internet, even the 90 year old neighbor who has survived long enough to be a living almanac, in hopes of predicting what sort of weather will blanket our ride. We are quick to elevate meteorologists to deity status when they're right, and damn them when they're wrong. I suppose the safest way to approach riding (the true hardcore biker) is to ride regardless of the predicted weather report.

This Thursday's ride was probably no more enjoyable in terms of satisfaction in weather conditions than last Thursday's. I crept upon the Thursday night rendezvous about 6:15 pm. When I left my house in Hudsonville, the sky was clear, the weather was ideal. The sky when I arrived at Deny's on 44th was slightly stained with an ominous gun metal color. I was fervently looking forward to the evening's ride. I had promised Dr. Thuderfoot that we would do a lot of riding together this summer. Unfortunately, this was the first opportunity that I could ride with him (through no fault of his). My "honey-do" list keeps compounding as the summer races forward, leaving only small pockets of times to ride. By the time we were ready to leave for the ride, the group included Dr. Thunderfoot, Dr. Deadman, "Lost", myself, "Riceburner", Josie and Wendy (I forgot your last names-and p.s., nice Shadow!). Since Dr. Thunderfoot was the ride leader, we were waiting on his approval of the weather conditions before embarking on the evening ride. As his eyes dashed across the sky in all directions, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "let's start heading south, and hopefully avoid the weather." Three minutes into the ride, the rain began. We sought shelter under an overpass for about fifteen minutes. The rain poured, then thinned, then poured, then thinned. Finally, it looked solid enough to begin again. Dr. Thunderfoot fished for opinions about either heading south down to Gun Lake, or maybe over to Holland to ride Lakeshore up to Grand Haven. We decided to continue on the original Mecca south to Gun Lake. We rode in a light mist for a few minutes, then happened into a completely dry area for a few miles. Then the rain found us once more. We came upon a gas station on 140th to survey our situation once more. After discussing our options and verbally berating all meteorologists, Dr. Thunderfoot decided he was still going to continue to his original destination. I, however, decided to part ways and head west. My instincts told me that the sky looked more favorable in that direction. I said my goodbyes and expressed my disappointment in the weather conditions, promising that I would meet up with them again on another Thursday ride.

As I journeyed west, I ran into beautiful weather. Not a drop of water anywhere. The smell of wild onions, freshly cut grass, and flowers came in waves. Fiercely enjoying the sensory overload, I wondered if the group was pestered by more showers as they rode south. As I wandered west, I overcame a group of "hardcore bikers". It was the most stunning collection of vintage mopeds I've ever seen. The group numbered around nine. I rode with them for a few miles, more out of novelty than necessity. I zig-zagged my way north to Hudsonville on back roads. I eventually rested in my driveway at about 8:15 pm. I was decidedly saddened that we hadn't had a picture perfect evening for a ride. As I'm writing this rambling note and reflecting on the evening's ride, the skepticism of meteorologists and their reports, and the disappointment of a short ride, I've resorted to doing what I do best when faced with frustration-I'm drinking beer. I hope the group made it back safely.

Cheers! Greeny
Nathan Greenwood - US-MI-Grand Rapids