First came the rain. Then came the hail. And then the sleet was upon us.

For three days across the Colorado Rockies last fall the elements came at us in fits and spurts, punctuated by periods of sunshine, but mostly the rain fell. It dropped in buckets at Monarch Pass, on our tents as we slept, and blasted into our face shields as we motored back and forth over the Continental Divide searching for rain-flattened-and-fast fire roads and long stretches of asphalt to make time.

In the slow wind up to Independence Pass, our troop of simple dual-sport bikes and beefy BMW GS's rose up and out of the mid-70s warmth of Buena Vista, Colo., up Highway 285 and into the biting cold sleet of 12,095 ft. There's a saying about places like Colorado that if you don't like the weather, wait a few minutes. When you're riding motorcycles through places like Colorado, halve that time.

You've got to hand it to Tucker Rocky and FirstGear for picking a dual-sport ride through the Rockies as a way to showcase the features of its TPG (Technical Performance Gear) riding apparel. They either had strong foresight into what we might encounter or had some major pull with certain parties to arrange that kind of weather.

If the goal was to demonstrate how well the TPG lineup handles the elements, they succeeded in spades. In interest of full disclosure here, Tucker Rocky and FirstGear supplied me with the riding gear for the purposes of demonstrating its features. And Sun Sports Unlimited, a dealership in Gunnison, Colo., loaned me a 2009 KLR650 for the ride.

That being said, I wouldn't be able to rhapsodize about what was one of the best rides of my life had I spent the whole thing shivering away in rain-soaked riding gear and soggy chones. I realize that the largesse of these three entities could color my impressions of the TPG apparel, but I'll be as forthright as possible.

But first a little about the TPG lineup. The collection is essentially a three-piece system consisting of Basegear (optional) to keep you dry, a Tech Liner inner jacket meant to help control body temperature, the Rainier outer jacket, and the Escape pant. The latter comes gender-specific and features a comfy liner. I'll give my pros and cons for each piece later.

The gear is also the only apparel in the FirstGear lineup to get the new d3o armor, a replacement from the more commonly used Knox armor. Relatively new to the U.S. powersports market, the d3o protection (see here for an earlier story on d3o) is more flexible, less bulky and more high-tech than anything currently used. Its energy-absorbing nature comes from what are known as "intelligent molecules" that move freely under normal conditions, but lock together stiffly in an impact. Pretty cool stuff.

One other feature about the TPG apparel I almost forgot — it comes with a two-year crash protection policy. What this means is should a rider crash and damage his or her TPG jacket, pants or gloves, the company will send a free replacement. To qualify, the damaged gear and a police report must be returned to TR along with any additional feedback.

Hitting the Trails

On to the ride. Our guide, FirstGear apparel specialist Mark Kincart (who has since left the company) outfitted most of the group in pieces from the TPG lineup. I say most, because many of the riders were reps and regional sales managers from Tucker Rocky and they already had their duds.

I trial fit all the gear in my hotel the night before the ride and was worried a bit about their bulkiness. Taking Kincart's advice, I ditched the Escape pant liner and opted for the Basegear bottoms and the outer shell.

Then, going with a moisture-wicking undershirt and some compression shorts, I doffed the gear and set out to our jumping-off point, Kincart's home in Gunnison. Save for the fact that winters hit an average of about minus 8 in Gunnison (a record low of minus 60 was once recorded!), this makes an excellent starting point for a dual-sport ride through the Rocky Mountains.

We took easy asphalt up to the city of Almont, a small dot of a town at the junction of the Taylor and East rivers, and hit the dirt. Blasting up Taylor Canyon and over to Taylor Reservoir, we stopped for lunch and this is when the first of much weather hit. We went from clear to freezing rain in a snap, but given the only activity was sandwich eating, my only concern was soggy bread. It was once we took off up to Cotton Wood Pass that I started paying attention to whether or not all my dry parts were still dry. They were. By the time we hit the 12,126 ft pass the air temp had dropped a fair bit and my hands were getting a bit cold.

To be fair, I was wearing a pair of men's Tundra gloves, which were made for using heated grips and only feature insulation on the back of the hand. Kincart had warned me about this so at least I wasn't cursing FirstGear when my digits started to chill.

After a quick pic or three, we headed down around one of the most picturesque left-handed sweepers I'd ever seen, and into the town of Buena Vista, Colo., to regroup and refuel. Off again, this time to Monarch Pass, where near the top we detoured over the Old Monarch Pass, which tops out at 11,375 ft. Needless to say, it was chilly up here, but not quite as teeth-chattering as the downhill side of the road, a treacherous bit of dirt road featuring off-camber left turns, with the sloping side facing downhill.

There's something about reaching the bottom of a pucker-inducing ride that makes you want to really get on it once the road straightens and levels out. So I did. For a good two miles or so. Until it started to rain. And hail. Big hail. Luckily most of the group found shelter at a row of covered gas pumps at a nearby station. We sat, bikes pulled in tightly while the pellets plinked down on the tin above. (Continued on page 2.)

As it can get with big groups, there was some confusion about where we were going next. A group of guys with GPS headed out to scout a few roads to see if they looked like the way to go. Most were not. Eventually, our group found its bearings and we made it to our campsite to unload, rewind and relax. There's nothing so perfect as sitting around a campfire in your road-dirty duds, having a few beers and shooting the breeze. Unless, of course, you're digging into a big bowl of green chile pozole, courtesy of Kincart's wife, Rose. She whipped up a giant cast-iron pot full of the stuff and had it not seemed strange at the time, I'd have poured some into my pockets to enjoy later.

That night I opted to wear the Basegear as sleep wear, a wise choice as it got down to a temperature hostile to my California-bred body. Between the crashing thunder, the rain bucketing down on my tent and the mummy bag I'd borrowed for the trip (these things are designed by sadists, for use by masochists), there was some sleep. But only in fits.

The second day on the road would pose the most climate-related challenges. After a hamburger feast at K's Dairy Delite in Buena Vista (it's the kind of roadside burger stand that makes you thank God there are still roadside burger stands), we left 75-degree weather of the Arkansas River Valley and up to the 34-degree temps of Independence Pass (12,095 ft.).

For me, this was the benchmark for the level of comfort the TPG stuff provided. It was damn cold up there and the ride down and through Aspen into Glenwood Springs would be a real-world test that took us through a handful of miniclimates — cold sleet, a torrential downpour and back into 70-degree temps — all along one 60-or-so-mile stretch of highway.

On that long rainswept ride, about the only water I felt on my skin — anywhere on my body — was on my face, and it was coming through the vents on my Arai's face shield.

At the bottom, one of the other editors on the ride (Marty Estes of Source Interlink) remembered that he'd placed a couple of his business cards in the wrist pocket on his jacket. They were all dry.

We wrapped up the trip the next day, but not before a couple of haul-ass rides up and over McClure Pass, and then onto Kebler and Ohio passes, riding over some of the best unpaved roads I've ever ridden. Along these routes, we hit more of the same cold-then-hot-then-cold swings in temperature and the FirstGear stuff never missed a beat. Not at all.

Later that day, after rolling into Crested Butte to chow on what will forever be known as the Best Pizza on The Planet at a joint called the Secret Stash, I again surveyed all my riding gear. It was stinky and it was dirty, but what it was not — especially in places where it shouldn't be — wet.

The Gear

Rainier jacket

A lot of times, the features and benefits of any piece of apparel get lost in the maelstrom of high-techy sounding fabrics that goes into it. The Rainier features this brand-named construction (600-denier nylon, Kevlar and Teramid), but it's technical construction also point to a garment that is well-built for its intended use.

As FirstGear brand manager Mark Salvatore put it, they knew the customer for this high-end bit of riding gear is demanding. These are the guys who ride 25,000 to 35,000 miles a year. "If you're going to sell products to them, it's gotta be technical," Salvatore said. "When it comes to building technical or selling technical, you have to earn that crowd. You don't just throw it out there and it's gonna sell. It has to be proven and tested and people have to give feedback."

The Rainier has just about all the pockets a person could want, including one just inside the zipper, by the chest, perfectly suited for cell phones. One feature I didn't use, but only because I didn't have time to think about it, was the under-helmet rainhood. Safety features include reflective panels and a hoop on the back on which a light can be clipped. The Max Flow Vent Lock system allows air to scoop into front intake vents and out through the back.

A two-way zipper front makes adjusting your pants nice, too.

One of the biggest bonuses of the Rainier is the Tech Liner jacket that zips out and can be worn as a standalone piece. Not only does this allow a rider to shed the outer shell during stops and still stay warm, it's a smart bit of kit when you're looking for a more casual look. I never found the three-layer combo to be uncomfortably bulky. If anything, the three pieces together provided that real cozy, lived-in feel you get from your gear after spending three days on the road together.

Kincart said the jacket is built for all weather and all conditions, a pretty reasonable claim. "It's the jacket you pick if you're going from Florida to Alaska," he added. "It is a motorcycle jacket first and foremost, but because of the build standards that are used, and the quality standards, it is something that will last. It's almost an investment." The jacket retails for $399.95 and comes in small through 4-XL, and in Tall sizes, large through 2-XL.

Escape pants

As mentioned, I never needed to use the liner of the Escape pants, just the outer shell and the Basegear bottoms. These — and a little bit of engine heat from the KLR — provided all the warmth I needed on the ride. Like the Ranier, these pants have myriad pockets in all the right areas, including fleece-lined hand-warmer pockets. And heat-resistant panels from the knee to the ankle protect against hot exhaust cans.

One of my two issues with the pant is aimed at one of the features I also really liked. This was the knee-to-foot zipper on each leg designed for easy on-and-off. I happened to be wearing motocross boots on the trip and the ankle-end of the pant wasn't wide enough for the zipper to be closed all the way down to the foot, leaving the pants flapping a bit in the breeze.

The other issue is the location of the knee armor. I'm well aware of my short inseam; however, I'm not sure I like to be reminded by knee protection that hangs down around my shin when I'm not on a bike. I can hike it up into place while riding, but it just seems to hang a bit low.

Perhaps this would be different if my waist was a little smaller. The inseam would shorten up a bit! This or I should have checked out the short sizes. The Escape pants retail for $249.95 and come in men's and women's sizes.

Tundra glove

What can I say about these gloves other than I wish I'd had heated grips to really test their features. That said, they still did a great job of keeping my mitts warm enough and I was never really uncomfortable.

There's something about hard knuckle protection that makes me feel like my hands are that much safer. The Tundra has a molded plastic plate that fit my knuckles just right. Often, I'll find that the molded type is too small and doesn't extend all the way from my forefinger to my pinky. A hard skid/impact pad on the palm added to this increased security and served up a little side benefit. I found that when my throttle hand got fatigued, I could use the pad to keep steady pressure on the twist grip — sort of like a improvised cruise control.

Comfortwise, they were great and felt like they were lined with kitten fur, though I know they aren't. They're just really cozy. The glove retails for $89.95.

Winter Basegear long-sleeve top and pants

Since the trip in September, I've found that I've been using the Basegear more than any other piece of TPG apparel. This is mostly because here in Southern California all the layers aren't needed, but it's also because this stuff is darn comfortable. Late-night and early morning walks. Sitting around in the morning drinking coffee and reading the paper. These two pieces are now my leisure wear.

Each is constructed of a combination of fleece lining, spandex to keep things snug (not too snug), and water- and wind-resistant front panels. The top's zipper neck helps regulate body temperature and the bottoms have double top-stitched seams to eliminate chaffing — a good thing.

Both also do a fantastic job of wicking away moisture to keep your body dry. These pieces retail for $69.95 apiece.

The Bike

Here's a Sun Sports Unlimited

This multiline dealership is located in Gunnison, Colo. It has been in its current location since 1978. and is the oldest KTM dealer in the state.

Morrill Griffith and Debbie Stewart opened the store at 219 W. Highway 50 and still own it to this day. Griffith is a racer who started way back in 1970 aboard a Hodaka Ace 100 and has since competed in multiple ISDEs and in the Rocky Mountain Enduro Circuit in the AA class.

The store also carries Kawasaki (as evident by the KLR650 they so generously loaned me), Yamaha and Polaris and is a big snowmobile dealer for the area. Sun Sports' service department is known for its expertise in dealing with high-elevation requirements in addition to the region's technical terrain and ever-changing weather.