Riding a motorcycle in a tropical rainstorm is rarely fun. The difference with a rainstorm in the tropics is that the drops of rain tend to be extra large. More than any other place that I have ridden, tropical raindrops slap-sting as they hit your face. In just seconds, one can be soaked in a way that only a barrel of water being dumped on you can simulate. One of the reasons I have two rain map applications on my iPhone is so that I can avoid the rain whenever possible. There are times, even with planning and the use of radar maps, when the rain hits.
There are two options. If you can anticipate, wearing raingear is an option. The sizes do not really work for me, but it is a lot better than nothing. Frequently there is no warning. In this situation, shelter is the only option.
Fortunately, many underpasses are designated as safe havens for motorcycles and scooters. One can spot the pained motorcycle in green on the overpass. One knows that the road will widen, with a designated safe zone that one can wait it out. Anyone who rides is welcome. There are no barriers in this shelter – we are all trying to stay as dry as we can.
As I emerged from a shelter recently, the road glistening and sparkling in the sunlight, I wondered how many other shelters I had in my life that were as open, accepting, and useful. If I had to describe the rain shelters, I would have waxed poetically; “You’re my cave to hide in, my cliff to climb. Be my safe leader, be my true mountain guide.” (Psalm 31.3)
Yes, I know the shelters only protect, but it is protection when nothing else will do! In context, Life is working with the pieces to shelter me, hiding me from the downpours, setting the stage for me to be on my way. When needed, shelters are priceless. Until they are, it serves me well to make a mental note when I find one. One never knows.
