THE MARVELS OF SPACE AGE TECHNOLOGY AND ITS USE IN MOTORCYCLE WARM WEAR.

Last Saturday as I got ready to go out on the Harley I got out my super warm BMW Motorrad PCM ™ long johns to pull on and noticed what I assumed to be a long lost handkerchief bunched up in the lining over the right knee. Then I discovered a similar lump on the other leg. Then it occurred to me that there are no pockets in BMW long johns. Without cutting into the fabric there was no way I could remove the cause of the lumps. Therefor like any sensitive new age male would do, I left them in a heap on the floor to attend to when I got home.

And this is where the story really starts.

To paraphrase BMW’s promotional material, BMW Motorrad PCM ™ pants contain ‘Phase Change’ materials that regulate temperature fluctuations utilising the  properties of Schoeller®PCM ™ space age technology.

Their space age fabric contains paraffin capsules of minute dimensions that absorb body heat in a controlled fashion and works best in outside temperatures of between 5 and 15 degrees celcius. Ideal for our winter climate in the Southern Highlands.

Now I’ve used my long john Schoeller undies for many years and I can vouch for their efficiency, comfort and durability. I should add the caveat, ‘before you realise the garment has reached its used by date.’

Oddly enough, none of the tags, labels or other bumpf mention use by dates.

On my return home I grabbed the long johns from the floor, sat down, scalpel in hand and attempted to unpick the stitches surrounding bump number one. The stitching was designed to last forever and as my unpicking was not proceeding at speed I resorted to a quick scalpel slash across the fabric.  That was mistake number one because immediately following the cut, minute black sand like material spewed onto the carpet.  I jumper up with the long john in hand and rushed into the kitchen where the floor is tiled. That was mistake number two because I left a trail of the black substance in my wake. What a surprise awaited me inside the fabric sack though. I pulled just under two handfuls of the black muck from the interior space. Some of it was rolled into golf ball sized hunks and was damp to the touch. The rest was granulated and in differing sizes. Fortunately it was odour free. I consigned it to a plastic bag and got rid of it.

Next, prior to the return home of my significant other I rushed around the trail of evidence with the vacuum cleaner and removed all traces of my misdemeanour. Of course, later that evening I made a full confession. A stupid admission as it turned out. There was no visible evidence. Even the vacuum cleaner bag had been changed. My confession was totally unnecessary. Fortunately the Judge, Jury and Executioner thought it was humorous and recorded no conviction against me. Not even a bond or a small fine, not even a reprimand.

Just goes to prove that confession can be good for the soul. Or something like that.

Lesson learned, I waited for today to continue my surgery on the other leg and for evidentiary purposes made a photographic record of the event.

THE OFFENDING BMW SCHOELLER LONG JOHNS.
                 THE OFFENDING BMW SCHOELLER LONG JOHNS.

If you look closely you will see there are a few bulges around the knee on the leg to your left as you look at the image and also a small incision around the knee on the other leg. Note that all of these photographs were taken on the outside of the house.

The bulges are more evident in the next image.

THE TELL TALE BULGES.
                                           THE TELL TALE BULGES.

I’d just draped the long johns over the outside table and sliced into the fabric when my supervisor decided to get up close and personal.

MEET GINGER, MY EVER ATTENDANT SUPERVISOR.
               MEET GINGER, MY EVER INQUISITIVE SUPERVISOR.

Have a look at the next two images of the granulated, dried out Schoeller gunk.

THE GRANULATED       DRIED OUT SCHOELLER GUNK.
THE GRANULATED DRIED OUT SCHOELLER GUNK.
WHAT CAN I SAY!
                                                WHAT CAN I SAY!

It’s all turned out well though, I’ve Googled my nearest BMW dealer and yes, they have these marvels of technology in stock and with any luck, tomorrow, I’ll proudly possess a pair of newies, the purchase being fully approved by the Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Then, as soon as the intermittent rain stops I’ll be out and about to try them out.

The beauty of BMW underwear is that other Harley riders have absolutely no idea that you have gone outside the fold in an effort to keep warm.

That’s one crime for which I will never confess.