oldironnow wrote
Thank you for sharing!
I don't know why, but I feel it's so cool to know someone who felt that moment.
There was a similar "freeze" during the winter of 1967. The day after Christmas 1967 (Boxing Day), we woke to about a foot and half of overnight snow on top of recent freezing conditions. There were no snow plows (ploughs) working due to the holidays and I left my precious 250cc Ariel Arrow at home and walked to our regular meeting place in the center of town to see how many of the other lads had the same idea.
They were all there, and one lad (Derrick Moncaster) who had a nice 650 Triumph Trophy even showed up on his "winter bike", a 1950s 125cc BSA Bantam. The word was that the snow was so thick, and having also been blown into drifts, that the town was cut off. Rumors were that you couldn't get more than a mile or so out of town. Monk and I decided to test the rumor and foolishly set off on his puny little Bantam.
Man was it cold, we had no helmets, or gloves, just jeans and our leather jackets, (we were young!) and only about a mile out of town we soon found the road impassible due to snow drifts, even to a little BSA Bantam. We attempted to ride through/over a particularly large drift but soon got stuck, we quickly made the decision to make it back asap, the bike was light enough for us to "carry" when necessary, but then the rear chain came off due to some frantic wheel spin in one drift.
Initially this didn't bother us too much, we were laughing out loud at the farce of it all. But we soon realized that our hands were so cold that they wouldn't function and we couldn't get the chain back on. We took it in turns to work on the chain while the other put his hands under his armpits to warm them up, but it was to no avail, our hands were just so cold we had little-to-no-feeling in them and they wouldn't function.
It didn't take long to begin to realize we were in a very precarious situation, stuck out in the open, lightly clothed, no gloves, no hats, freezing temperatures and a howling wind, with zero chance of anyone else driving by. We were getting really desperate as we struggled with the little chain on the old Bantam, seconds began to feel like minutes, and soon every minute seemed like an hour. Finally, by both of us using both of our hands together, we managed to get lucky enough to get the chain back on the rear sprocket. I cannot tell you how much of a relief that was, and we jumped on that Bantam and rode carefully but as quickly as we could back to town, both of us as cold as blocks of ice and lucky to have not suffered a worse fate. It was an early lesson to both of us that simple things can turn very serious, very quickly.
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