And I didn ’ t scrimp on getting good tyres . Tread and grip ... simple logic . But I feel at this point I have to confess a rainyday sin I committed around ’ 76 . I was heading for a race meeting at Manfeild and the forecast was a shocker . Rain with potential strong winds down Central Hawke ’ s Bay . But , hey , I ’ d done the hard yards before so on went the waterproofs and off I went . I was approaching Norsewood and the weather was as foul and ferocious as it could pretty well get , so I branched off the highway and into the quaint little township for a bit of a break . Which is what another couple of well togged up blokes were also doing . “ Screw this ,” one said with a smile , his opening remark to me , “ We ’ re heading back .” I said I understood completely and watched them set off into the murky rain on the return home . And about three minutes later I joined them . It was my one and only surrender to the elements but I balance it out with the memory of a mid-winter ride from Napier to Christchurch ( all in the one day ) and the dash along the Kaikoura coast where smudges of snow dotted the edges of the hillsides . Cold ? When I arrived at my brother ’ s flat I struggled to both speak and get my gloves off . Great fun though . On this note , my thoughts of late have been with the motorcycle fraternity of Auckland which has been in a lockdown for what must feel like about a thousand years to them . Rain ? No problem ... the ride is still on . This Chinese pandemic invasion from Deltaville ? Nope ... the ride is not on . I take strength in a song that came out sometime in the 80s ( I think ) by some band I can ’ t recall the name of . But they summed a lot up in the title of their hit song which was called ‘ Things Can Only Get Better .’ The ride ’ ll soon be back on .