Ten Steps of Winter up north.

[NONE_too_SOFT]

Stage one. Denial.

Stage one is typically encountered in the beginning months of fall. When the leaves start to change, deep in your heart you dont want it to be true, but alas you know that dirty bitch called winter is right around the corner. But, being the ever hopefull addict that you are, you decide not to heed Falls warnings. Despite the decreasing temperatures, slick leaves on the road, strange looks from motorists, friends, and family, you know that this is going to be a mild winter. Hell, you dont even plan on winterizing your bike until you get five inches of snow, you may even ride up through january even february! Who says theres a riding season in the north?

Stage Two. Withdrawal.

The human body can only take so much. You've polished your leathers. prepped your bike, and are getting hourly updates on the weather paterns via your mobile. 60 degrees, you go out, its not so bad. But then reality kicks in. The weather is taunting you. sure its 55 and sunny now, just wait a few hours buckaroo. Suddenly its averaging 30 degrees outside. You begin to loose sleep due to nightmares of your bike being stolen, wrecked, etc. You spend hours on the shitter reading and re-reading all of the magazines you've neglected from the warmer months because you were actually riding. You wear your gloves while watching TV. You've begun to make a shrine out of your gear, always within reach, just itching for one more fix before winter. Sadly, you are knee deep in a Midwest autumn, and youre all out of bubble gum.

Stage Three. Farewell.

Its no use. There is white stuff falling from the heavens, there is mention of egg nog and a jolly fat man in a red suit enslaving the little people of the world to do his bidding, building trinkets and what not for all the kids on that bus you got stuck behind because your slow ass sedan couldnt pass it. Riding is still a close memory, but you've come to terms with the season and am preparing to grind out the winter with projects and the like, constantly telling yourself "at least i will be able to do SOMETHING with my bike". You prep your bike for the winter. It sits on stands. you put a cover on it after starting it up one last time just to hear it run. You feel a sinking feeling in your heart, and go mourn the loss of a loved one.

Stage Four. Remeniscing

You've made it to new years. The holidays were a nice distraction, and you finally get to go out and celebrate a new year. plus now you can spend money on true love, rather than the impostors you call "family". You've done well not to sit in the garage looking at your bike very much, and it seems like youre over it. Then one lonely night, you Begin to calculate how many miles you put on the year previous. Reminiscing puts a smile on your face as you drift into a peaceful slumber, and that night you are greeted in slumber land with images of riding that was once and is yet to come. sunny days, warm asphalt, new tires, and all day with nothing to do. Then you wake up...

Stage Five. Flipping out.

...and its ten degrees, snowing, and you need to shovel the driveway to get your cage unstuck. Madness. Its time to do SOMETHING, ANYTHING with your bike. This is a critical stage in the phases of bike withdrawal. without a proper support group or distraction, it is very likely you can put yourself into some sort of coma whether induced by alcohol or just the sheer angst of waiting for the parts you've finally ordered to come. either way you eventually end up spending way more money than you should, and way too much time in the garage. You may develop frostbite on your extremities, be sure to take breaks to warm your hands and toes up. and no matter how tempting it be, do NOT lick that socket wrench. Yes, it will stick.

Stage Six. Relapse.

You cant friggin believe that you've blown your load on all these new parts and gear and you've still got months to go until you can use it. Suddenly weather you wouldn't dream of riding in during the fall, becomes paradise. its 40 degrees, sunny, and the roads are clear of slush. sure theres still snow on the ground but not on the part of the ground that you want to use. you feel like you did when you first started riding, with that ear to ear grin, as you head out your driveway looking like the Michelin man you have so many layers on. Be sure to check your tire pressure and take it easy, as in some cases, you wont make it to stage seven. you'll have to go straight back to phase one if you put the wrong part of your bike on the ground.

Stage Seven. Rage.

You fucking retard. Dont you know what all that salt on the road does to your bike? to your plastics? to your gear? never mind all the fucking potholes you hit that kicked gravel everywhere possible, or the fact that you almost got hit by a thousand people because you're on a bike in the middle of winter. Oh and remember those autumns in the midwest? yea, winter isn't much better. Odds are the sun went away, and you got snowed on. That must have been fun. Time to spend the next three days detailing your bike.


Stage Eight. withdrawl (again)

You are delirious. You keep telling yourself "sure i remember i usually start riding every march! march is right around the corner! and shit there are only 28 days in February, its such a short month!" Even though in reality, it snows up until late April most springs. You are back on the weather updates. You become more invested in the weather than a room full of old people at a nursing home.

Stage Nine. Redemption (aka, spring)

Its all down hill. The weather let downs get easier and easier, and you know that with each passing day glorious warm weather is inevitable. This stage is often coupled with delusions, like if you buy a case of air fresheners at sams club and shoot them all off at the same time in your back yard, it may begin to raise the climate in your neighborhood. Or if you turn on your oven, microwave, toaster, and set your thermostat to 90 and open all your doors and windows it may raise the temperature outside a degree or so. Please, do all of these things, and video tape them. Thats funny as hell.

Stage Ten. The first day.

Saturday. 65. Sunny. Gear up, try and find your keys. give up and grab your spare. and pull out. Then come back and adjust your tire pressure. Then pull out. Then come back and get your extra face shield. Then pull out. Then come back and get your wallet and house key. Pull out of the driveway again, and try not to WOT until you get your sea legs back.

wait six months. begin at stage one.

Then get wise and move south.