Originally, Nick (aka inmate @nick949eldo) submitted this as a standalone piece—but I realized it basically said everything I wanted to say in Part 2 of myWinter Riding Tactics series. So with no consultation of Mister Adams at all, I’m going to tack the Part 2 headline on his thoughtful column, even though that wasn’t his original intention. That’s the wonder of being the editor… Anyway. Nick has put down many hard miles in freezing temperatures, and his advice is spot-on: Pick your days carefully, and you can ride all winter—Ed.

Picture this. A beautiful, mild and sunny, mid-autumn lunchtime. A delightful cafe/bar in deepest rural Ontario. Four bikes, four riders, in a pleasant four-way conversation, as two strip off their riding gear having just arrived, while two are getting ready to depart.

“This will be my last ride of the season,” one of the riders declares, straddling his late-model Harley.

“Why? There will be plenty more good days before the snow.” I ask.

“I have too much money invested in my bike to risk getting it filthy.”

We say our goodbyes and the two Harley riders depart. They’ve already ridden a couple of hundred miles, and have about the same distance to cover before they’re home. They’re riders, not coffee shop hoppers. They’re on a good long ride. A full day. Their gleaming, thirty-thousand-dollar bikes sound wonderful as they accelerate out of the parking lot. I wish them a joyous and safe ride home.

Over lunch I find myself brooding over the statement about his investment. It nags at me like a mild toothache. It irks me. It shouldn’t, I know: it’s his money, his bike, his choices.

Investment? Now there’s a funny concept. The last time I checked, ‘investment’ implied monies spent with the expectation of profit or income. However, the moment our Harley riding friend rode his new bike away from the dealer, it dropped in value. In two years, even in spectacular condition, he’d be lucky to get seventy percent of what he paid. After ten years, probably less than half. I’m not beating up on Harleys here, which tend to retain their value well – the same is true for any new bike.

It’s a natural and inevitable condition. The very action of riding a motorcycle hastens its demise. Metal parts wear and corrode, paint fades, plastics weaken in sunlight. Chains, brake pads and rotors and a host of other “wear” parts can be replaced, but no matter how meticulously one maintains a motorcycle and how assiduously one cleans and cares for it, from the moment it left the factory it was on a one-way street to the wreckers and recyclers. The gremlins of rust and oxidation are already at work, and with each rotation of camshafts, pistons and bearings, microscopic particles are shed into the lubricant. Fuel additives attack plastic and rubber parts. Things wear out. Things deteriorate. Even unused, a bike will gradually decline. Museum conservators have a word for this. It’s called “inherent vice,” the tendency for objects to decay because of the innate instability of the materials of which they are made.

So? What to do? I say, “Ride them.”

In chilly Ontario, where I live, there are many fine riding days during the months of November and December. It’s actually the time of year I like the best. Quiet roads, cool air, bright sunlight, the smell of decaying leaves as you ride along. Watch out for patches of wet, fallen leaves, and deer and turkeys which seem to loose all common sense at this time of year. Even on dull days there’s joy to be found in gentle rides away from the crush of urban life. There will be days of cold rain, or when the snow flies and the temperature drops, and on these days it’s best to leave the bike untouched. But the snow rarely lingers long at the tail end of the year and the temperature often creeps up, leaving plenty of days when it’s possible to ride.

When full winter finally arrives, there are still occasional days when the roads are dry and clear of ice and snow and the temperature rises well above freezing. These can provide some of the best riding of the year. There’s nothing quite like dressing in full winter gear, leaving the couch and the TV behind, to head out on empty roads lined with snowbanks. Yes, you have to watch for shadowy corners, spreads of gravel and patches of ice, and it’s a good idea to keep your speed to sensible levels. But even a short ride can be enough to blow away those winter doldrums, so that, when the snow and ice inevitably return, you’re in a better state of mind to cope with them. You have to pick your days with care, but the pay-off is spectacular.

Even during the frigid months of January and February, there are occasional days when it isn’t complete lunacy to ride, and by March the number gradually increases as the sun starts to melt the snow and the hours of daylight lengthen. Good, well-padded gear, heated grips or heated gloves, and well-insulated boots help keep the cold at bay.

Road salt, gravel dust and mud spray? Bikes can be cleaned. It’s not the end of the world. It will give you something to do on those days when you can’t ride. And if hurts too much to see your pristine baby covered in salt-spray you can always find a cheap winter hack. There are legions of reliable used bikes out there for pitifully few dollars. As for the investment? Personally, I’d rather invest in the experience and joy of riding than worry about a bit of grime. The bike is eventually going to deteriorate and lose it’s value anyway – you may as well enjoy it while you can.