Does riding a scooter or motorcycle allow you to appreciate the small things?
A comment on a previous post by Dar, author of the Princess Scooterpie; Adventures of a Motorcycle Diva blog, suggested that riding changes you in small ways. I’ve been turning that over in my head for awhile and believe that’s absolutely true in many cases if not most. Certainly it’s true for me. And it has changed my appreciation of the world. In short, riding has helped me become a better exploring life.
I see the change during my rides to work.
Seeing fog out the bedroom window stirs an excitement I can only associate with youth — those times as a kid where presents or adventures were imminent. Having just turned 61 it’s satisfying to know I still get excited by the little things. And that wasn’t always the case. Before I started to ride I missed the details of living. Not sure how it happened but it did.
Riding through the morning fog I was aware of the changing flows of air, of temperature and fragrance. Everything seems fresh and alive along the way — the utility poles disappearing in the distance and the sweeping yellow lines on the road. I know they don’t mean anything but I see them.
The only fog is outside my head.
I write a lot about riding alone. Standing in a field looking at these trees is a reason why. I just wanted to look at the shapes against the foggy sky, the fences stretching across the field, the muted greens and yellows before me. With another rider along I would probably not stop, not want to explain what I was looking for, or illuminate the trance I can find myself.
These scenes are part of exploring life. They’re the noise and the music that remind me I’ve alive and walking on the earth.
One last stop before riding on to the hospital and cardiac rehab. If riding helps me see the little things, appreciate what’s all around me, if it’s pushing me to explore life, I have to say it doesn’t stop when I park the scooter.
In cardiac rehab I’ve watched myself respond to the gentle pushing and prodding of the staff to explore the boundaries by my heart attack recovery. They’re testing my limits much in the same manner that I test them on the Vespa in snow or rain. And I’ve learned to pay attention, watch and process experience into something useful.
I wonder if I’m alone in this kind of experience? Are other riders in their head as much as I seem to be or are they just roaring on to work or on a little trip without much thought to anything?
How much has your scooter or motorcycle helped you to explore life?
Steve, in response to your first question, a resounding YES!
Also, years ago, when I began going around by scooter, I noticed right away that as long as I was on two wheels, I was more patient in city traffic. Civil society needs MORE two-wheelers.
I think I’ve become more patient on the road generally because I see the traffic differently and have low expectations of behavior now. If it worked like that for all riders then more of us would lead to a more civil society. Unfortunately I think things are going the other direction…
Yes. After being a rider you’re not the same as other people. You see the imperfections in the road, enjoy the curves and feel the air in motion. I always said that people in cars act like the windshield is a TV screen and they’re just watching. It explains why they feel the need to text, talk on the phone and eat while driving. Don’t get me started on automatic transmissions, cruise control and air conditioning. They just add to the Living Room environment and detachment from the task. Riding is all about involvement.
I love the phrase Jim, “After being a rider you’re not the same as other people.” Your description of what we see must be pretty universal. And you’re right about the mobile livingroom. I won’t ask about automatic transmissions though…
Riding a twist-and-go scooter is certainly less involving with the machine than a conventional motorcycle, but conversely it allows for more involvement with one’s surroundings.
Nice to have a choice of both in the garage.
I share your observations regarding twist-and-go and a conventional shift motorcycle. For me I always know I am astride a machine when I’m riding a motorcycle. The shifting, noise and general physicality of it scream “machine” for me. That’s not bad and I usually enjoy riding them. But the Vespa is an entirely different experience that I can only equate with flying. It’s so smooth and effortless that I feel as if I’m part of the air. Makes it really easy to connect with the experience.
Really well put…I have always though of my small scooter as flying also. It is so smooth and magical. It is more of a magic carpet feel not so much a machine as my sportbike is.
Brent
Yes, that pretty much sums it up Brent!
I’d agree with the others. Active participation is required. Plus you are immersed in the environment your passing through. The scents from the fields (both good and bad) and the sounds. I find it hard to even listen to music while riding as it’s a distraction that I don’t need or want. Riding with others is a distraction as you must consider their needs and wants in addition to your own.
Riding is a full immersion activity if you want it to be, desire it to be. But there are plenty of ways to minimize the immersion — drinking, preoccupation with problems, drugs, music, and more I suppose. Keeping things simple might be best. Makes me think of the old joke about why Honda Goldwing riders don’t wave — they can’t find the autowave button.
Steve, it wasn’t until after I came face to face with my own mortality that I took up riding (seriously.) Inside the helmet, travelling alone, focused on the road, immersed in the journey … it is a place I didn’t know I would enjoy so much, but I do. You are not alone.
The immersion in an action is a wonderful place. I’ve met many who share the experience you describe.