As I mentioned, I camped last night.It had been such a nice day filled with cool breezes and alot of sunshine. All good things must come to an end, abruptly.

At 2AM I was woken up to the sound of rain.This turned out to be convenient since I needed to take a leak. I crawled out of tent tentatively (pardon the pun) and was surprised to find that none of the rain was reaching the forest floor. "This won't last". And it didn't.

I was woken up again around 4 when the rain started coming down in earnest. The sound of water hitting the tent got progressively louder until it all became a single din. I fell back asleep.

Some hours later I thought to myself, "now isn't that strange, my shoulder is cold, my hands get cold, but never my shoulder". Foreshadowing. Hmmm. Why is my shoulder wet? Because there's a steady stream of water flowing into the tent.

You know I'm pretty smart. As a matter of fact, I am a fucking genius. This genuis, after applying the full weight of his massive intellect to pick out the exact correct spot to pitch a tent, pitched it in a depression that was fed, once the rains came, not by one but by two hills. A small pond had formed around the perimeter of the tent and was flooding it from underneath.

The photo just doesn't do it justice.

I laid there for a while pondering what to do as sheets of rain could be heard pouring down outside. This was the scenario I had dreaded, breaking camp in a cold rain and being wet for the rest of the day. I devised a plan. Man up. Put on my leathers. Run to the bike. Put on the rainsuit top. Break camp. It all went pretty much according to plan ... including the prediction that I would get completely soaked in the process. At this point it had been raining steadily for 7 hours.

I grabbed a shower to try to make myself feel a bit human. The rain continued.

With all this rain I've become somewhat concerned about the bike. After spending all night outside in the deluge, the first time I tried to start it the starter motor wouldn't turn over. Press the starter button, nothing. The second time it worked fine. More foreshadowing? It is an 18 year old bike with a considerable number of electrical connections that are now fairly aged.

I rode to a Perkins restaurant, had some breakfast and then decided to try to make my way north. This rain had to let up eventually, no? I rode for 168 miles in one sitting through a combination of driving soaking rain and wind. From what I could make out through gaps in the fog and mist, the countryside was probably beautiful. Wisconsin is a strange place. Fantastic pristine forest punctuated by tourist trap billboards.

I should have put on the electric vest. Did I mention it was 46degF? Thank you, Duncan, for the heated handlebar grips. They are a lifesaver.

I naively searched for a starbucks for hours. No joy. So eventually I stopped at a gas station and the attendant took pity on me. I sat inside for a while sipping brown colored water (what they call "coffee") and warmed up for a while.

Seeing the error of my ways I put on the Aerostich electric vest at which point I noticed that my nifty tank bag power distribution box had failed. My cellphone was dead and the gps was running on battery. Oh this sucks.

Basking in the glory that is electric heat, I pushed on to Duluth. I didn't realize that Duluth is a port town and that it's big. I was used to towns up here being very small. The rain was coming in at an angle and the wind was still that angry buffeting kind that beats you senseless. Then I noticed the bridge. There's this huge bridge that climbs a few hundred feet up over a body of water. The wind was intense and coming from all sides. Did I mention it was raining as well? At one point a gust damn near pushed me into the next lane.

I found my way down into Duluth and arrived at the Aerostich Warehouse. I had wanted to take pictures of the outside but it was just raining too heavily. So in I went.

Aerostich (www.aerostich.com) sells hardcore motorcycle touring gear and apparel. They produce a highly regarded catalog. I've been buying from them for years. Last year they came out with a leather riding suit that they claim is waterproof and yet breathable. Yea, right. Then motorcyclist magazine did a review of the Aerostich Leather Transit Suit and gave it a 5 out of 5. So this is the reason I'm here.

The Aerostich warehouse and manufacturing facility is located in a 100 year old candy factory. It's actually really cool. The outside is that old brick with a very small Aerostich sign on it. The inside is a bustling mail order business that seems more improvisational than I would have expected given the quality of their gear. It may not be pretty, but it works.

I spent the next few hours trying on various sizes of Transit Suits. My first impression wasn't all that positive. They just don't fit me all that well. I guess I don't have a typical American body. Not enough gut I guess.

But I'm done with rainsuits. Putting on a plastic rainsuit on top of a set of a bulky leathers SUCKS. Especially if you have to perform this operation in the middle of traffic in Chicago when the police are watching. The Aerostich folks swear up and down these suits are water proof but also able to withstand both cold and hot. ("Too good to be true"). So after far more deliberation and trying on various sizes, I finally picked one up.

The Aerostich folks were very nice and are going to ship my Tourmaster leathers back home for me for free. On top of that, since I showed up in person they gave me a 10% discount. Cool.

A guy walked in while I was agonizing over my purchase decision. His name was Tom, I think. He had an old Roadcrafter suit on (the suit that made the Aerostich name way back in the day). The suit was old and faded and his hands were colored purple, the telltale sign of having worn black leather gloves in far too much rain. We got to talking. He had ridden from the West and had gotten rained on every day. Ouch. We talked for a bit, he asked me where I was going and I mentioned that I was going to try to make it to Deadhorse, Alaska. He had done that trip twice. As a matter of fact he had toured all the way down to Tierra Del Fuego from the US! In addition to that, he had ridden Eastern Europe, all through Canada and even done New Zealand. From talking to the guy, I got the impression that he may be the hardest core distance rider I had ever met. I asked a bunch of questions about the Dalton highway to Deadhorse. At first he made it sound doable, but then he mentioned that if it rains the Dalton highway can turn into five inches of soup. He described how the calcium carbonate they use to bind the gravel turned to cement under his front wheel causing it to stop spinning. He had to pull over when he noticed it was cutting groves into his tire. He ended up removing the front fender to free it up. Ouch. He cautioned that I should make reservations in advance if I want to stay at the hotel up there since tour buses go up there now. Yea, a real hard core destination. I'm competing with tour buses.

I asked if I could take his picture. He said, "I'm nobody". I said, "You're someone I've met on my journey".

After I bought my Transit Suit and got everything taken care of I walked out into the pouring rain. Yup, the Transit Suit is waterproof. Tom asked how far I would be riding this evening. I thought to myself, "HELL NO". "I'm staying in Duluth", I said. Yea, hardcore.

I made my way to a Motel 6 not far from the warehouse and dragged all my gear into the room and opened it up to let it dry out. What a mess!

The tent and sleeping back were soaked.

I turned the heat up on full and proceeded to fall asleep to the sound of continuing rain outside. I woke up a few hours later feeling really cold. You know that kind of cold that gets inside you and makes you think you're about to get really sick. I filled the tub with a bunch of hot water and sat in it for a while to raise my body temperature. "Yea, hard core", I thought to myself. I came in the rain. I ride in the cold and wet but I have the option to stay in some powered, heated hotel whenever I want. Imagine if I didn't have this at my disposal. Imagine not being able to afford to pay for a hotel, having instead to camp in the cold and wet using wet gear when your core temperature is dropping? Even with camping, and riding in the rain, and the discomfort, this is the lap of luxury. I might as well be in an RV.

Around 21:30 I noticed the rain had stopped, so on a recommendation from Todd (from the yml.com forum), I headed over to Fitger's, a great brewpub with good burgers and fine scotches. Strangely, Duluth seems to like it's alcohol. There are a ton of bars here. The waitress asked me where I was from and where I was heading. She mentioned some hot springs I should check out in British Columbia but I have already forgotten the name. Bummer. I should have taken the camera. There are so many instances where I should be taking photos to share ...

Tomorrow I start the trip down to Dancing Rabbit. It's only 550 miles away, but I haven't been doing that much mileage. Also, I'd like to look around Duluth a bit. I may have to ride later into the evening tomorrow. There's no way I'm camping tomorrow night.

If you're not a YML.COM member and would like to comment on this, just post over at facebook. I put a link there to each one of these. I really need to build the anonymous commenting code but haven't had a chance ...