Recently, a work-related assignment sent me to CA, specifically the Bay area. It was four degrees Fahrenheit when I left Chicago and, of course, the wind chill made it feel like minus 11 degrees F, according to the weather report. By the time I reached Menlo Park, CA where I stayed for part of the trip, a blue sky and the sound of motorcycles at every turn made me forget my roots and wonder what it would be like to live in this part of CA. Riding year 'round, having mild winters, ridding myself of the need for a car...I can live with that--happily. The
n I remembered the earthquakes ...
In Palo Alto, on Stanford University's campus, bicycles are ubiquitous! A tour guide said there are 14,000 students enrolled there and 12,000 registered bicycles . I don't know if this includes faculty and staff who ride to work, but the place reminded me of images of China's congested two-wheel traffic. Riders zipped around campus, which appears devoid of overt bicycle lanes . How they manage to avoid crashing into each other is beyond me. But bicyclists seem to know who has the right of way and how to avoid cell-phone talking strollers immersed in conversations so important that they are exempt from following any rules of the road, and bicyclists seem also adept at avoiding tourists, who stop wherever the mood strikes to read the campus map.
I didn't miss the special parking set aside for motorcyclists either. Very thoughtful.
Next stop: University of California at Berkeley, the massive flagship school in the mammoth UC system. Talk about set aside motorcycle parking! It's everywhere! I saw a young guy riding a silver '02 SV650. I couldn't restrain myself from striking up a conversation with him and given that I am old enough to be his mother I knew he'd know that I wasn't trying to pick him up. I asked him how he likes the SV. He loves it! I've yet to meet an owner who doesn't.
He told me that he pays a nominal fee to park on campus but that all street parking is free for motorcyclists. He's able to literally ride to his classroom building. He also introduced me to many of the bike's upgrades, none of which he added, by the way. He got a "great" deal because the previous owner did all the work. He had Givi luggage and rack, Corbin seat, and a "slip-on" exhaust system, which gave his bike a nice, deep throaty sound--definitely not loud. Still, his neighbors complain about it. Their problem, he said, is that they simply don't like motorcycles. They've complained but his landlord, who lives on the premises has sided with him and also contends that the bike's exhaust level is a non-issue. Frankly, I'd add that "slip-on" in heart beat. It wasn't loud at all! It brought to mind a Ducati I once heard...
While walking the streets of Berkeley, motorcycles were omnipresent. Parked along each street, sometimes lined up four and five cars deep. I saw several SVs and if I didn't fear an arrest and didn't respect other people's property, and no one was around to catch me, I swear, I would have tossed a leg over one of them and just had my own little personal thrill for a minute or two.San Francisco, near Fisherman's Wharf, was a haven for motorcyclists. By then, I'd become less obvious in my glee at seeing and hearing a bike go by. I focused on the riders. Every one I saw wore a helmet--including the passengers. I did notice that many wore the beanie helmets, which I surmise is an attempt to circumvent the mandatory helmet law 'cause those helmets sure didn't look very protective.
Beautiful weather the entire week made me wish I'd made arrangements and had the time to rent a bike while there. I must return in March and if time and funds permit, I think I'll look into that...Upon my return to Chicago, and despite the fact that I was met with single digit temperatures and a wind so cutting that it could easily rip the skin off your face in only a few minutes of exposure, I felt inspired to get my moto jackets and pants ready for the riding season. I diligently separated the hand washables from the dry clean only. The first cleaners hesitated to say he could clean the garments. Something about the leather and textile mix? Within days, I learned that they could not clean the garments. Supposedly, the leather parts could be cleaned but there was concern about the textile.
Recommendation: "Clean it yourself." 
Later, I stopped into another cleaners and explained my situation. "Oh, yes, we can clean that." But upon examining the two jackets and one pair pants, a husband and wife team said they would check with their cleaners (the cleaners has a cleaners?--outsourcing, I guess). Well, long story short, they won't or can't do it either. I have about six or seven jackets and several pairs of pants. These three items are the exception with regards to cleaning. Every other garment can be hand washed in cold water. And, I typically avoid purchasing clothes that need professional cleaning. I bought these garments because they are cute--and protective. See, it's easy to get the protective part, but as a female, it's challenging to get the cute part. It's difficult to acquire garments that fit your shoulders and taper a bit in the waist. Contrary to what some motorcycle cloths makers think, female riders need more than a garment made for a male but in a smaller size. It's about the cut and the style and...oh, don't get me started. 
I'm not a clothes horse; however, I've become a fashion maven about motorcycle wear. I don't ride comfortably when the jacket I'm donning doesn't fit well and reminds me of being a child trying on her father's coat. I've made too many purchases that initially seem suitable, only to find out later that they don't ride well. One doesn't wear such garments, they sort of just hang on you. So, now I have these two jackets that ride well that I absolutely fancy but can't get professionally cleaned!
Later, I stopped into another cleaners and explained my situation. "Oh, yes, we can clean that." But upon examining the two jackets and one pair pants, a husband and wife team said they would check with their cleaners (the cleaners has a cleaners?--outsourcing, I guess). Well, long story short, they won't or can't do it either. I have about six or seven jackets and several pairs of pants. These three items are the exception with regards to cleaning. Every other garment can be hand washed in cold water. And, I typically avoid purchasing clothes that need professional cleaning. I bought these garments because they are cute--and protective. See, it's easy to get the protective part, but as a female, it's challenging to get the cute part. It's difficult to acquire garments that fit your shoulders and taper a bit in the waist. Contrary to what some motorcycle cloths makers think, female riders need more than a garment made for a male but in a smaller size. It's about the cut and the style and...oh, don't get me started. 
I'm not a clothes horse; however, I've become a fashion maven about motorcycle wear. I don't ride comfortably when the jacket I'm donning doesn't fit well and reminds me of being a child trying on her father's coat. I've made too many purchases that initially seem suitable, only to find out later that they don't ride well. One doesn't wear such garments, they sort of just hang on you. So, now I have these two jackets that ride well that I absolutely fancy but can't get professionally cleaned!
Fortunately, I have other jackets and pants that can be handwashed. But I tell you, they are not as much fun. They are functional, yes, but not necessarily fun. I desire and deserve both. For example, I love my FirstGear Kilimanjaro jacket--it's definitely my favorite.
For long trips, I never leave home without it. There are those days, however, when the FirstGear is in the laundry and it's a beautiful day out, where I know I don't need to worry about rain protection or plummeting temps and I want something a bit more stylish.
I bought a silver TourMaster Transition jacket, which I wore around the store for a long time, debating its practicality. I bought silver to match my helmet and the trellis on my bike. Bad idea! The jacket is a dirt magnet! I can stretch three, maybe four outings out of it before desperately needing to toss it in the laundry--that's way too much work. Thus, it hardly gets worn.
The quest for an intrepid cleaners to tackle my jackets and pants continues. But just in case the search fails, the back up gear is clean and raring to go.
It is 22 degrees F this morning. Still, if I take a really deep breath, after the nose hairs thaw a bit, I can smell spring in the air. I really can...
