Of raining motorcycles.

Actually, that’s motorcycles in the rain.

I think my comment might have been interpreted other than what I intended. : )

Many years ago, when I was a young innocent soul, I happened upon a group of motorcyclists.
Okay, I wasn’t too terribly innocent, but I was still young.

Annnnnyway, the group of motorcyclists was based out of the Pacific Northwest, where most of us, at that time, lived.
This group loved to get together, go riding up and down the mountains, then come back and have a potluck dinner. It sounds so staid and boring that way doesn’t it?

Over the years a tradition developed, one member was an extraordinary cook, so the dinners were at his place. We’d all ride over to his place, eat lots, drink lots, fall over wherever there was room when we finally got tired, then the next morning we’d go get some breakfast and ride home.

So, the phrase “Drink heavily and ride motorcycles in the rain” is synonymous with “I miss the PNW”.

There’s another interpretation of the phrase; “when you’ve done all you can, don’t stir yourself into the mud, go do something you can still enjoy.”

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