Annual Polar Bear Motorcycle Ride

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Annual Polar Bear Motorcycle Ride

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I started doing these New Years Day rides 10 years ago and haven't missed one yet. Average temperature has been about 32F(0C), though the coldest I have been out is -10F(-23C). Neither my commie bastard Russian Ural, or myself, enjoyed that ride much. Anyway, loose rules are to ride at least 35 miles with a pic of the speedometers' beginning and ending mileage plus a pic of your rig somewhere along the route.

This years' starting temp was 28F(-2C) and the plan was to be back home on my couch before the predicted snowstorm hit. Racked up 52 miles and the temp dropped to 21F(-6C). The last 15 miles were a tad uncomfortable as I rode through the cold front of the approaching storm. My rig has heated grips and I had to bump up the temp. The heated grips have five temp settings. OFF, STILL OFF, KINDA ON, IT BURNS IT BURNS, and OH MY GOD I NEED SKIN GRAFTS! Save for my toes, the rest of me was fine. Heavy woolly socks with my normal insulated boots weren't quite enough after I rode through the front.
Starting mileage.
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At the Garfield Farm Museum. A working 1840s farmstead.
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Ending mileage.
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Plan for the rest of today is to place my feet in front of the fireplace and watch the Dr. Who Marathon on BBC America.
 
Thats a bit too cold for me to be riding ⛄️, looks like your outfit can handle the snow 👍🏻, I did have a ride out yesterday as it was a very mild 14c .
 

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Bigger garage is nice, I have two. Well, my wife has one and I have one. But you'd be surprised how fast you can fill it. When I bought this place two years ago, I had one antique car, two Solexes, two motorcycles, one lawn tractor, and a dozen bicycles. Now, it's still one antique car, still two Solexes, but now four motorcycles, two lawn tractors, and twenty two bicycles. That's not counting the tool boxes and bench mounted power tools.
 
Your scooter refreshed a memory of where I used to live.
Our downtown would have a Saturday flea market in the summer months. I'd ride the Ural down and park at the local coffee shop, not a Starbucks, wander through the flea market, then grab a cuppa and breakfast. Every other Saturday, a German woman, Danielle, would ride her pale green Vespa into town from a few towns over for the same thing. She'd park next to my rig and we'd share a sidewalk table for coffee and bullshit. She had a thick accent. I helped her with American swear words and we both were friends with owner.
That Vespa and a bicycle were how she got around. Didn't drive and didn't want to.
 
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