I hate to ride in the rain. Light rain, heavy rain, misty rain, whatever, I don’t care. I hate to ride in the rain. Of the six major crashes that I’ve had, half have been in the rain. Don’t get me wrong. They weren’t because the pavement was wet. They were because someone else did something stupid while the pavement was wet. That having been said, let me tell you a short story about Houdini’s ride in the rain to his 10 year high school reunion. It was the month of June in 1979 when he decided that it might be fun to attend his reunion. In the very least it would be a good long ride with much of it on Mississippi back roads and the rest on the Interstate. He looked forward to seeing some of his old friends and see which of the girls had gotten fat and which ones had filled out. So off he goes on a hot summer morning in Florida heading north and west. In about an hour it became overcast and started to spit out a few drops of rain… the big intermittent drops that let you know that the fun is about to begin. If you’ve ever been in a Florida downpour then I don’t have to explain. If you haven’t let me tell you that the cars pull to the side with their emergency flashers going and hope no one hits them because they can’t see to drive. Even their wipers are ineffective. Houdini is heading to Alabama from the panhandle when the big stuff hits. You couldn’t see a thing and the rain beat the hell out of his face and hands. Pulling over and standing in the rain didn’t make much sense so he kept on going. A big rig flew by in the left lane splashing a momentary dry patch behind its tires. Houdini twisted the throttle and slipped in tight behind the big truck keeping his tires in the drier pavement behind the big truck tires. “Just hope he doesn’t have to pull an emergency stop” he thought. While this kept his tires on drier ground, it put his face directly into the spray so he rode with his chin on his tank trying to dodge the horizontal waterfall. After a while they went under an overpass so Houdini pulled over and rode back to it.Even his wallet was soaked through. He waited for a break in the weather and hit the rode again. He turned north on Alabama 65 and the hopped over to Mississippi 45 north. The wet riding had put him behind his schedule so by the time he made it to his “hometown” and the reunion it was in full swing. Everyone was dressed in their best. Houdini’s face was a dirty dark gray from the oil and water that the truck had washed him with… that is except for where his goggles had been. He looked like some crazy reverse racoon. Not fitting in to well, ( you don’t get to many dressed up women to hug you when you are that dirty ) he went off and bought a six-pak. His dad was closing up the small blue collar restaurant that he owned. Houdini’s dad was his best friend so they shared the six and spent time catching up. The next morning Houdini took off for Florida and of course the weather was great. He’ll tell you to this day that it was worth the ride to tip a few with his best friend… but that he too hates to ride in the rain.