Riding Pants

Riders start out with two or three basic articles of protective gear: the helmet, jacket and gloves. The additional "coverage" comes from shoes or boots and blue jeans, which are considered par for the course.

However, riding pants and boots tend to arrive much farther down the line. They require a much more specific fit, cost a lot more than their non-riding counterparts and may not be used much by a casual rider. These items just aren't justified to many people.

Most non-riders will notice the "spaceman" - a biker with a helmet and a textile jacket. But only another rider will really pay attention to riding pants and boots.

I called up my neighbor today. "Have you looked outside? Isn't it gorgeous!" He agreed to a short ride after work. We just tooled around town, visiting a couple stores he works with. Afterwards, we parted and I headed to a non-remarkable fast food joint, hoping to grab a taste of their "Big Deal."

I pulled in to discover a BMW 1200 GS parked out front. Among my circles, BMW riders are an odd lot, and supposedly the GS riders are the quirkiest.

I came in and ordered my sandwich. The other rider was sitting in a corner, talking on a cell phone. I let him ignore me; It was the polite thing to do. After he hung up, he called across the room, "Hey! What are you riding?" This spurred a friendly conversation that lasted much longer than either of us anticipated. He told me of how his desire to leave cruisers behind led him to the big dual sport, of some of his off-road adventures, and how he lusted after the new KTM's - but was disappointed in the short supply of quality dealers. I shared the story of the older gentleman who traveled all over on his old BMW R-bike, logging hundreds of thousands of miles, yet never had the desire to draw attention to himself by writing a book, posting on the internet or even bragging about it.

Eventually, he pointed out that I was wearing riding pants. I told him, "Might as well be comfortable." I noticed his riding pants and boots as I passed him in the restaurant; we were both decked-out in full riding gear. It gave a certain measure of validity to each of our stories and added to our respect for one-another. We both admitted to our hooligan sides, but we weren't squids. After a while, we both headed our own way, edified by the company of a civilized rider.

We notice the little things that separate or unite us. This time, the riding pants were more important than the ride.