I drive a 'Bimmer'. It is a 1987 535is BMW automobile also known as The Kelvinator.
I ride a 'Beemer'. It is a 1978 R100RS BMW motorcycle also known as The Motorsport. This vintage of BMW bikes is known as the 'Airhead', named because the heads (and engine) are entirely air cooled.
Notice the difference in the words. Short 'i' sound - BMW cars; long 'e' sound - BMW bikes.
So a week ago, I drove my Bimmer to Pittsburgh for a BMW event. It was the Pittsburgh Vintage Grand Prix, held in Schenley Park in downtown Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. What actually is going on is that a bunch of separate events by different car clubs and groups is held, centering around a handful of races through the park by vintage ('old', 'retired', etc.) race cars. It is a charity event that raises a significant amount of money for autism and has been around for awhile. This was at the height of the summer's late July heat wave and my air conditioning is somewhat - shall we say, 'marginal' in the car, so it was a pretty miserable time most of the weekend.
I set out very early Friday, clearing Milwaukee before sunrise. At the time the sun was coming up, a nasty thunderstorm was coming down. It was also the time I was thinking about a quick stop for a Kwik Trip donut and coffee for breakfast. As I headed toward the exit ramp, up ahead, through the heavy downpour, I could see a taillight. Just one, going on down I-94 ahead of me. That meant it was a bike, a guy probably getting very wet, and a hardcore biker who wouldn't be stopped by a mere frog-strangler of a rainstorm. In other words, probably a BMW rider.
It rained heavily all the rest of the way to the north side of Chicago. I was thinking how glad I was that I was not that biker. As the day went on, it got hotter all the way across Indiana. By the time I hit the Ohio state line, it was above 95º and the car's a/c was fading fast. I decided it was a good time to just stop and take a break at one of the excellent rest stops on US 30. I was looking for a shaded spot but in the middle of the shadeless lot, I saw an Airhead. Blue with white bags and seat, I was intrigued by it, so I pulled in beside it. I could see a guy sitting back under one of the picnic table shelters and I yelled, "Izzat yer Airhead?" "Yep!" he replied.
I walked back and sat down beside him. I pulled out a picture of mine and showed it to him. He was an old school hardcore biker. Big beard pulled into a tie below his chin. Work boots. Worsted work pants. T shirt and head rags. All good for protection and some heat dissipation. But once the temperature and humidity hit those levels, there's no cooling effect from being on a bike. Moisture doesn't evaporate and hot air doesn't remove any heat, regardless of how fast you go. It's like being in a blast furnace. I told him I was really glad I wasn't him riding in that heat.
We introduced one another and I asked him where he was headed. "Mid Ohio," he answered. To the vintage bike races there. He figured he was about 90 miles away and I agreed. He hadn't been there in a number of years, so I told him he'd love that 30 was new the rest of the way. There would be no two-lane slogging through little s***holes like Crestline. Four lanes, divided, and light traffic all the way - but hot. Then, I asked where he was coming from. I hadn't noted the plate on the bike. "Milwaukee." "Hey, wait; was that you this morning ...?" Yeah; it was. He'd had an entire state to dry off, so it wasn't too obvious by then. Wow. It's not often that I get to pity the same guy twice in a day for two such totally different reasons.
As we got up to leave, I offered him a bottle of ice water from my cooler in the back seat. He'd been drinking from a one liter metal water bottle and he tried to refuse. When I insisted, as we walked toward the rest stop building, he said, "No; I can fill this up at the bubbler inside."
I stopped and turned to him to look him in the eye. "No," I said firmly. "There is no bubbler inside. This is Ohio. We have 'drinking fountains'." As it dawned on him what I was saying and he started to grin, I added, "Besides, mine is colder." So we went to the car and he got a cold one.
I hope you had a good time at the races, Jim.
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