Aerostich / RiderWearHouse

Self portrait by Rich Waters

"The details about this photo may not be...a wild adventure - but it is a true story.

I went out to hit some of my favorite country roads just about an hour North of Pittsburgh, PA. I could see dark clouds ahead and five minutes into the ride it starting pouring down rain. It rained for about 30 minutes or so and I continued on my ride with confidence that I would be dry.

Years before this ride, I had a similar thing happen to me. I went out for a nice ride and got caught in a downpour.

Only I didn't have my Aerostich back then. My weatherproof riding gear failed and I was soaked! I swore that would never happen again.

I researched motorcycle riding gear and decided on an Aerostich Darien Jacket and a set of AD-1 pants. Once I received my new gear from Aerostich I was in love with it. Finally, I understood first hand why people were so proud to wear Aerostich!

The rain had stopped and the skies were clearing when I reached my favorite back roads. I stopped to take a few pictures and I removed my riding pants. When I got back on my bike, I looked in my mirror and could see the Aerostich logo (on my Darien Jacket). I smiled and thought back to that ride when my gear failed and how happy I now was to be dry. So, I got back off of my bike and grabbed my camera. Sounds crazy, but I wanted to have a picture of myself in my Aerostich."

Rich Waters, a photographer from Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, is able to combine riding and working by using his motorcycle to find unique and interesting photo opportunities. Thanks for sharing your story Rich!

Why do you ride motorcycles? We would like to invite you to share with us. Send us your photos and/or stories from your adventures, rides, rallies, commutes...Share your unique perspective on the ever-changing world we as riders encounter. >> aerostich.com/photos

An Aerostich Roadcrafter and Triple Digit Rain Covers help make every ride a good ride for Mark Kunath. Photo by Leah Keel.

Riding in the Rain today.

We are doing what we can here (to support riding for daily transportation). There are about five of us who commute-ride regularly. Today, in the hard rain there were three. I did a few run-around errands today, riding a total of about ten miles and at each stop I went in, wrung my saturated leather gloves of about a cup of water on the sidewalk before entering, and then squished into each of the places.

From experience I knew I'd get looks like I was from Mars, but now I'm ready and read more in these scenes than I once did. At a popular restaurant downtown, I fed the meter three quarters and walked a block in driving rain. The money for the meter was in the sleeve pocket of my tightly closed Darien jacket. A cluster of people were sheltering under an awning on the front of building six feet behind me, watching. A teen boy said "kinda wet..." and I replied, "sure is", smiling as I walked still-helmeted toward the lunch meeting.

A few steps farther and the microfiber baseball cap came out of the right front pocket of the Darien. It lives in there, more for sun and bald-headiness than hard rainfall. As I walked/splashed across the avenue, stepping over an eighteen inch wide, inch-deep river in the gutter, I pulled off my helmet and for a moment felt the drops hitting the top of my balding head. In a second the baseball cap was pulled down, snugged and adjusted. The wet gloves went into my helmet and then I looked almost normal, bundled inside a tightly Velcro-flapped collar, wrist-zipped up-to-my-neck yellow Darien jacket. Just walking along between a few brave umbrellas, with large shiny drops of water running off the edges of curved ball cap's bill, two inches from my eyes.

Upon entering the restaurant I set my wrung out gloves and the helmet on the empty table inside the door and un-Velcro'd the collar and flaps, then zipped down the main zipper. A nice puddle of runoff drippings had already formed around my feet. Like I'd just stepped out of the shower onto a bath mat, except there was no mat, only a hard floor. The place was noisy and busy. Two tables away, a ten year old boy sitting with his family had turned himself almost completely around to watch. He'd seen his sibling and a parent looking up for a moment, across the table, and that was enough so he needed to turn around to see what had caught their eye. Now, he was too fascinated by my dorky, drippy, un-zippery display to turn himself back around and eat.

Others around the room had glanced up, too, then they'd quickly and politely turned away. I could see mesmerizing questions in this kid's face. Like ‘Just how does that (riding in hard rain on a motorcycle) work?' he wondered. And ‘Why?’ And lastly, ‘That does sorta look like you are having fun...’ And I was.

Behind me, across the windows in front, people ran back and forth along the sidewalk toward their cars, splashing under tilted umbrellas, or holding their hands just above their eyes. Not having fun.

- Mr. Subjective 9/19/09