Riding in the rain: no fun, no excuses

There’s an old saying:

If you live in Pennsylvania and you don’t ride in the rain, you don’t ride.

Maybe that’s an exaggeration. But the truth’s still there — if you’re the kind of rider who only hits the road when it’s sunny and 72, we’re probably not built the same.

Riding in the rain sucks. No one’s arguing that.

It’s cold. It’s wet. It’s all about focus and survival.

But it still beats the hell out of sitting on your couch watching Netflix like a domesticated house pet.

Let’s Talk About Helmets (And Why Your Face Hurts)

Riding in the rain without a helmet is like bringing a lawn chair to a gunfight. You’re gonna lose — fast.

Some Harley riders skip the lid. I’ve done it too. But try bombing down the highway at 70 mph with rain pellets smacking your face and skull like buckshot. That shit hurts. Then toss in fogged-up glasses or goggles and now you can’t see, either. That’s not “freedom.” That’s just dumb.

Now picture this instead: full-face helmet, proper visor, and a Pinlock insert. Boom — no facial trauma, no fog, no wiper-blade hand gestures every five seconds. Rain rolls off the visor at speed. Vision stays clear. No drama.

If you want to ride through weather, stop dressing like it’s Bike Night at a strip mall and get a real lid.

Rain Suits: They're All Kinda Trash, So Pick the Least Bad

Rain suits suck. Period. They’re annoying to put on, never keep you fully dry, and usually smell like a basement.

But sometimes they’re necessary.

Here’s how I play it:

If I’m ripping down the highway and see a dark cloud ahead, I scan the sky. If it looks like I can punch through in ten minutes, I stay on the throttle and ride it out.

If it’s a wall of rain that’ll last an hour or more? I pull over and suit up.

Nobody wants to do a roadside wardrobe change, but sometimes it’s worth it. Especially when the temp drops with the rain — that extra layer matters.

And yeah, most rain suits are garbage. Even the “premium” ones barely hold up. Right now, I’m running one from Klim. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I’ve found. Klim makes good gear — annoyingly good, considering their Polaris/Indian connection.

Rain boot covers?
Hell no.

They’re huge, floppy, and mess with your foot controls. That’s the last thing you want compromised in wet conditions. Just wear waterproof boots with solid grip. Will they eventually soak? Sure. Will they keep you alive? Also yes.

And don’t roll up to a wet stoplight in Vans or Converse like a style icon. Those soles are ice skates on oil-slicked pavement. You’ll look real cool until you’re picking your bike up off the ground.

Rain Technique: Don’t Be a Hero. Be Alive.

Rain riding isn’t about being a badass. It’s about being smart enough to survive it.

On the highway, you’re in the easiest environment: no tight corners, no sudden elevation changes. Just stay smooth and keep your inputs light. Tar snakes? Treat ’em like snakes. They’ll squirm under your tire and give you a quick “oh shit” jolt if you’re not ready.

Don’t dive into aggressive leans or carve lane changes like you’re at Daytona. Stay upright. Be steady. Your job isn’t to look fast — it’s to stay vertical.

On technical roads or country backroads? Dial it back even more. Big lean angles in the wet are a great way to slide into a guardrail. I try to keep as much tire on the ground as possible — that means lower speed, less angle, more control. You’re not crawling, you’re just riding with your head on straight.

Sometimes traffic stacks up behind you. Let it. They’re in climate-controlled cages. You’re on two wheels in the wet. If they don’t get why you’re slower, they’re morons.

Also — lane position matters. Avoid the center where oil and road grime collect. Stick to the left or right tire tracks where the pavement’s cleaner and drier.

Braking, Downshifting, and Rain Mode Reality

One thing I still forget in the rain? Downshifting like I’ve got sense. I engine brake a lot — always have. But wet pavement doesn’t play nice with that. I’ve lost traction more times than I care to admit by letting the clutch out too fast, too hard, while the road was slick.

Why? Muscle memory. I’ve got over 100,000 miles baked into my hands and feet — and sometimes they do the wrong thing before my brain catches up. That first butt-clenching rear-tire slide usually wakes me up real quick.

Also, let’s not forget the obvious: wet roads = longer stopping distances. Give yourself more room. Brake earlier. And stay off the panic grab. If you’re a trail braker like me, you’ve gotta be butter smooth. Rain amplifies everything — throttle, brake, lean. Get sloppy and the road will let you know.

And if you’re riding a Harley with rain mode or traction control, yeah — use it. Do I feel a massive difference when it’s turned on? Not really. But smarter people than me in Milwaukee think it matters, and I’m not about to argue with engineers who’ve seen the crash data.

The problem is, I forget it’s even there half the time. I’ll be 20 miles deep in the storm before I remember that little raincloud button exists. When I do remember, I hit it. But I never ride like it’s some kind of invincibility shield.

Use it. Respect it. But don’t rely on it. You’re still the one in control. Ride like traction control might save your ass — but don’t ride like it’s already doing the work for you.

Final Thoughts

Riding in the rain doesn’t require some special Jedi skillset.

It requires:

• The right gear

• A reasonable pace

• And a mindset that doesn’t fold at the first raindrop

I don’t go out looking for rain. But if I’ve got a destination, weather’s not gonna stop me. It shouldn’t stop you either.

Because if the road’s calling and you’re waiting on perfect weather —you’ll be waiting forever.

— Bagger Shawn

Founder, Steel Rippers