It’s just pouring down, heavy drops patter incessantly on the visor of my helmet and although I’m dressed for battle with elements, rain jacket, rain pants, and big floppy shoe covers that are impossible to walk in, there is till considerable discomfort. The drops sting my lips every time I accelerate, my gloves are already wet through and through, and there is a coldness in my crotch which I sincerely hope isn’t water soaking through my pants. Sometimes, on a good road in good weather, riding a motorcycle can be thoroughly enjoyable; swooping smoothly from turn to turn as you carve your way through a gorgeous landscape is a pure hedonistic pleasure. However, riding the boring old backstreets of my morning commute, in this shitty weather, is an exercise in stoicism. Stop hunching those shoulders, sit straight in the saddle and face the elements head on.