Left Dillon around 1:00 pm on Friday afternoon headed for the International BMW Motorcycle Owners Association Rally in Gillette Wyoming. 500 miles each way. Skies were cloudy and immediatly hit thunderstorms after about 30 miles. Ran right into a nice cloud burst about 15 miles out of Whitehall. I could see sun shine all around me and these damn storms sat over my head and followed me all the way to Billings. At one point I was in fairly heavy traffic, the sky had opened up and the rain was literally pouring down. My visibility was poor as I had a "half" helmet on. (my full face helmet was in the saddle bag of course) I had my left hand kind of blocking the right side of my face as the rain was hitting me hard. All of a sudden something hit me in the midsection at belt level on the right front. Now at this point I was somewhat preoccupied with ; a) staying on the road in while driving through standing water b) attempting to watch all the other on coming traffic c) cussing myself out for not wearing the full helmet which was in the saddlebag d) wondering why my rain gear was next to the helmet and not covering my soaked ass. I vainly glanced to see what part of the motorcycle had fallen off and hit me. Not much time to be doing that, as I was kind of busy staying alive. Finally I passed out of the downpour and assessed the bike. Hmmmm nothing to be seen, no parts gone, what the hell. I stopped at a gas station in Whitehall for a minute or so and looked the bike over. Saw nothing out of the ordinary. Whatever clobbered me felt like someone swinging a pillow and whacking me in the gut. I still don't have a clue what it was. Bird? Plane? Superman? A pillow? Who knows. One of the mysteries of life I guess.
. (they weren't that big but sure felt like it)