Canon G15 6.1mm 1/1000 @ f2.8 ISO 100
Riding Reflections
This will be a short post. It’s premise and conclusions obvious to many who already ride a scooter or motorcycle. To others, and perhaps most of those men and women who are thinking about riding, the idea that riding has any sort of powers or rewards beyond transportation or recreation may not even register in their thinking.
I don’t want to preach. I’ve long ago understood that what I believe, the actions and approaches that work for me, may be utterly useless for others. We each walk (or ride) our own path and come to understand and embrace what we will regardless of what others accept or reject.
My own experiences riding the Vespa scooter, and with most motorcycles I’ve had the opportunity to ride, have demonstrated their power to soothe the savage beast within — the terrible noise and drama that can play out between my ears and twist the body in terrible ways.
Canon G15 6.5mm 1/500 @ F5 ISO 100
My Kingdom for a Horse
Had Shakespeare written Richard III today, surely the words would have been, “A Vespa! A Vespa! My kingdom for a Vespa!”, realizing the madness and rage quelled only by a ride.
I exaggerate. A little.
The desire to ride was strong. The need to ride even greater. A quick exit from the Nittany Valley over Tussey Mountain and into the forest along dusty gravel roads that draw like ribbons through the forest. No cars, no cell coverage, no sound except for the Vespa and my slowly calming thoughts.
Canon G15 30mm 1/1250 @ F2.8 ISO 100
Ride 25 Miles and Call Me in the Morning
Just what the doctor ordered — a short ride in the warm spring air. Stopping to make the photograph I can barely remember my troubles. I almost don’t know who I am. If there’s freedom on the road, this must be what they’re talking about. Standing in the middle of the road I can almost feel myself getting lighter. Younger.
Now, days later, the weight of life has returned. Nothing dramatic or terrible in the grand scheme of things, but noisy nonetheless. There’s always some little thing chewing, nagging, asking for attention. My local Vespa dealer is moving 40 minutes away. Someone told me they’re dropping the Vespa line. Has me wondering about the future of my scooter and if I’m ready to take care of maintenance and repair myself. And on the heals of those thoughts come the pondering of a replacement ride from one of the two remaining local dealers.
Probably none of it is true.
The moral of this post? Ride more and you’ll end up worrying less.
I need to get on the road…
Spot on, Steve, spot… on…
At this moment for me personally, it’s not a matter of whether I want to ride or not, but rather an almost constant need to ride… to ride for hours, focussing to stay upright, breathing fresh air, stopping to snap a picture and constantly looking for new perspectives…
Very refreshing and enriching… just too bad the background noise takes over once the engine is switched off.
I feel the need to ride. It comes over me like the desire for salt and sugar. Hopefully it’s not a bad habit. Your description of the hours on the road is perfect. I have to pay more attention to exactly what happens when I switch the engine off. Perhaps there’s a way to extend the glow…
You are so very lucky to have quiet geographic areas to ride in. Here in my part of Southern Ontario the madness and volume of vehicles on the roads is a constant and it would take two hours or more to get away from said traffic.
That noted, my one friend who rides a Vespa has his dealer inToronto an hour’s drive east. Too many other two wheeled conveyances available with more oomph and horsepower; that’s where there is the market share.
And it is a new riding season here, at least one or two fatality on local roads already;
there will be more, there always are…
I am fortune to find myself living where I do. I remember riding through Baltimore on a hot summer day on a Friday afternoon. While the novelty made the ride interesting, on a daily basis it might be oppressive. I know many enjoy urban riding and commuting. I’ll have to reserve final judgement, perhaps forever, until I find myself an urban rider.
We’ve had no fatalities here this spring that I know of. But they appear as well. And for myriad reasons from errors on the part of cars and trucks to alcohol, speed and lack of experience. News of those events helps keep me honest. Especially when I begin thinking I’m a good rider…
Bummer about the dealer moving 40 minutes away….as to Richard III wishing for a Vespa to ride….I think a Ural would have been better choice….more room to carry the lance and all the armor when not actually charging at some enemy.
By the way, my motorcycle rides are failing to provide the restorative powers they used to….
I think you would need to consider a Vespa more of a scout’s ride. Quiet, unobtrusive, invisible. The URAL, well, it would give pause when you see ten thousand of them appear over a rise…
I am the town mouse to your country mouse.
Believe it or not, there is restoration and happiness to be found in the hectic mayhem of big city riding as well.
Threading my way to my destination efficiently, getting from A to B in considerably less time than would be possible by car, yields its own peace and satisfaction.
The way I feel the powers of nature flow through me, momentum, gravity, centrifugal force, and the rush of wind, and the subtle way I use them, controlling my trajectory with the throttle and brakes at my fingertips, and subtle inputs from the pressure of my palms on the bars, is a source of pleasure and satisfaction. Those feelings coupled with the quiet concentration and the isolation of my helmet yield their own therapeutic benefits, in spite, or perhaps because of, the hurtling mass of the vehicles I share the roads with.
Completely different recipes, yet similar pleasure in the results.
I can understand the process. You’ve seen the minor “urban” character of State College. I find satisfaction in that riding like you do. But I don’t feel the danger around me like I have in Pittsburgh, Baltimore and Philadelphia where the traffic pace is frantic. And chaotic. Unadventurous by nature — no thanks to roller coasters and speeding cars — I tend to prefer my environs quiet and slow. That’s why three people in a conversation is troubling.
All that said, my desire to ride is strong enough the if I found myself transplanted into a city, I would find the sweet spot on the road through the noise and chaos so I could step off the Vespa with a smile.
Couldn’t agree more! I got on my enduro and hit the trails yesterday and within minutes I was out of breath, covered in mud, and helmet drenched in sweat. All my cabin fever blues lingering from winter were washed away with one twist of the throttle.
“Ride more, worry less” <love it!
Sounds like a great way to shed the cabin fever blues. The Vespa has limitations in regard to trails, especially where water and mud is involved, but I’ve found myself covered and out of breath a few times. It’s a great feeling!
Thanks for stopping by and sharing your comments. It’s always nice to have reminders like yours.
Very well put. I’m sure you’ve been asked many times over the years “why?”. Non-riders wonder what the attraction is especially when compared to the quiet, warm container they opt to travel with in.
While there are times that I luxuriate in the container, most times I feel antsy in the car and just want to get where I’m going. On the scooter, I never want the ride to end. Or almost never anyways. Just a startling difference in experiences for me.
As far as the “why” questions about riding. It’s difficult to explain in an elevator speech. But I’m working on it!
While reading this latest post a thought, a question occurred to me and I am interested in the answer: Do you think that the restorative powers (as opposed to a mere need for transportation) of a Vespa ride are also very much linked to the environment you ride in?
I feel that you are extremely lucky to have such an appealing landscape to ride in, and am wondering if you felt the same way if the environment were different. I absolutely understand what you are saying in your post but – as it relates to me personally – the feeling of rejuvenation or whatever you may call it was always also very dependent on the beauty, or non-beauty, that surrounded me during my rides, climate/weather included…
I used to think the environment was directly linked. Required in fact. And that unless I could spend many hours on the road I could not reap the reward of satisfaction and restoration of mind and body. I know now that’s not the case. I find myself invigorated and spirit restored running errands on the Vespa in much the same way as a long ride through the northern forests. While the character of the experience is markedly different, the benefit is not.
The landscape here is great to ride in. And it appeals to me photographically as I’ve always been drawn to the landscape. As a photographer I’ve come to recognize the beauty inherent in the man-made landscapes as well. And because of that, riding in it has become more pleasurable than when it was merely a place to escape. That took time, and paying attention myself, and to the work of others, to appreciate.
And thinking of climate and weather — I ride in a lot of circumstances that many might brand as awful. I’ve learned there’s beauty and contentment there as well. Riding the Vespa has helped me shed a lot of my prejudice and snap decision making and be more open to what’s ever in front of me. I’m not a perfect practitioner, but I’m trying to just ride and not worry so much about where…
Thanks, Steve. I appreciated that.
Steve, I was thinking about your Vespa the other day. Having ridden big cumbersome machines and little easy to use bikes, I think having an unobtrusive (small, light, automatic, upright riding position) machine can grease the skids to enlightenment. A Road King requires some time and open space to reach riding zen but my XS500 brings happiness just scooting down River Road for a few minutes. (preaching to the preacher here)
Peace and grease
I think you’re probably right about needing time and space to get into the flow with a big motorcycle like the Road King. Any sort of short, lots of turns and stops sort of errand riding would get pretty irritating (for me) on a big bike. The XS500 would be nice. I’ve actually been pondering the Yamaha SR400 as a motorcycle version of the scooter. And with a kick starter.
Anyways, keep preaching.
No problem. Thanks for the question. Helps me think about some of the things I might otherwise overlook.
I grew up in the country north of Toronto on a farm. My adult life was spent working in the big city to make a living. Once retired I knew I wanted to return back to the country. I now live near Belleville Ontario, out in the country. The roads out this way are a scooter riders dream. Like you Steve the view of the world from my Burgman is carefree, youthful and adventurous. It’s sunny here today, 14 degrees. I’m going for a ride.
Riding in a place like you describe provides an opportunity to relax in ways more hectic riding can’t. What I enjoy on some of my country rides is the ability to throttle back and really look at things. I find myself riding along at 15mph so I can see the wildflowers. Or look at the creek without running into something suddenly.
Hope you had a fine ride. And thanks for sharing here. Nice to have that sunny day picture in my head.
Here is a link to my Facebook page with pictures of yesterday’s ride. http://www.facebook.com/scooterworldontario
Thanks for the link. Love ghost towns. All those unspoken stories swirling in the air…
We have out of town guest so I not been riding this week. I have been out to the garage to putter with the scooter a couple of times, that does not stratify the need to ride.
Funny how that draw to the garage works. For me, it’s almost like looking at maps. I go out and look the scooter over, check the oil, and suddenly I’m imagining a ride. While not as good as the real thing, it does help brighten the day. Or night!
My son gave me a coffee cup with these words: “It’s a Vesps thing. You wouldn’t understand.”. If you have a Vespa and like to ride then you DO understand. I live in a gated community and can ride for about 5 miles around the perimeter and most of the time the road is all mine. If I go outside the community I can travel another 5-10 miles on certain days and the roads still seem to be all mine.
Enjoy the ride Steve and have a Blessed Easter.
The Vesps thing. Yep. I understand. Our secret society. All fellow travelers.
Have a blessed Easter too Karl.
About three weeks ago I got out for my ride first ride to Lake Huron about an hour from London Ont. The joy of that first exciting ride of the season and doing it on a couple of newly found back roads made it feel special…like it was my first ride and I fell in love with it all over again.
Wonderful!
Brent
It’s great isn’t it? I wonder how many first rides we get to have. I’ve never thought of it that way but you are on to something Brent. It does often feel like a first ride. It hasn’t gotten old yet!
Steve, maybe for a second career you can start a two wheel rehab program. I would never sign up, but maybe there are people that would.
As for me, I am dying down here. This is spring. I do looong rides in the spring. My mind has me going to California seeing wonderful things enroute. Right now I cannot get the blooming cactus in the Big Bend of Texas that a artist/two wheeler described in detail. I see them in my mind with me on a red Vespa among them. I see me in Chama New Mexico visiting the train and being on the 25w radio station. I see me in lots of places. But, alas, I am trapped like a rat or a working person. I fell on my head and decided to build a “Vespa Garage” where my old perfectly fine garage is. This project is keeping me from roaming far from home as I do in the Spring.
“Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing — absolutely nothing — half so much worth doing as simply messing about on Vespa’s.”
“Simply messing…about on Vespa’s — or with Vepsa’s… In or on ’em it doesn’t matter. Nothing seems to matter, that’s the charm of it. Whether you get away, or whether you don’t; whether you arrive at your destination or whether you reach somewhere else, or whether you never get anywhere at all, you’re always busy, and you never do anything in particular; and when you’ve done it there’s always something else to do, and you can do it if you like, but you’d much better not.”
But, alas, hope springs eternal and maybe, just maybe………..
What a great idea Ken. Food for thought. Virtually at least. I wonder how many miserable folks would be helped, if not cured, by a scooter. Wonder if insurance would cover a Vespa? Certainly cheaper in the long run than therapy.
I’m sorry to hear you traded riding for construction. One can only hope the resulting space will make up for the loss of Big Bend or the crashing waves at Point Lobos. As my friend Paul tells me, it will be there when you’re ready.
You would cringe at my Vespa garage. It’s more like scooter meets hoarders. It’s on my retirement list to transform the space into a Vespa garage.
Love the quotes. I’m going to be messing about on the Vespa in a few minutes! Thanks for sharing your struggles and wisdom. As David Masse has indicated, you are a legend among scooter riders. Your journeys on your Vespa around the world inspire a healthy measure of awe.
Some riders seem to find escape only by embarking on trans-continental trips to such remote locales as the Alaskan wilderness, the Arctic Circle, or Tierra del Fuego.
I envy those who can forget their worries and troubles by engaging in simple (and let’s face it, safer) activities like gardening, painting, reading, playing an instrument, etc.
I’m happy that I don’t have to embark on a trans-continental ride to find escape. Not to say I don’t dream about it. It’s been on my mind since high school. Not sure it will ever happen. But I’m grateful for the satisfaction I’ve found on a ride across town.
The other activities in life — they pale compared to a ride.
A lovely post, Steve. I know absolutely what you mean about mindfulness while riding a scooter! My busy life hasn’t had near enough time for me to ride my lovely bike lately and I’m suffering for it. Maybe I can go to that happy place just by thinking about scooters more and about all the other stuff less…..
It’s good to have a mental happy place to deal with stress. Like you, I have a lot of fine scooter memories to lean on when I can’t actually get out and ride.
Richard III was British. “My kingdom for a Triumph!”
Probably an ADV bike.
You’re probably right Jim. And definitely an ADV bike.
Riding really is like therapy. When you’re on your bike, it’s just you and the road. I’m not thinking about what waits for me at work or back home, I’m focused on the road. There’s nothing like going out for a ride, just going where the wind takes you, maybe finding a quiet restaurant to enjoy a bite. It’s addictive.
It is addictive. Your description of the shedding of what holds sway at work or home is perfect. Thanks for sharing that. If it weren’t heading toward midnight I might go for a ride now…
Your dealer for Vespa moved from where to where and off hand, why?
State College, PA to Tyrone, PA. About 30 minutes on the expressway. Longer for my scooter meandering. Lots of reasons for the change — business prospects, location, rent costs vs. owning a building, etc.
But they’ll continue to sell and service Vespa and Piaggio. And if I add a motorcycle that happens to be labelled BMW I’ll be in good shape.
At least here’s a decent candy shop in Tyrone, just down the street from the Norfolk Southern main line where there was a magnificent solid brick railway station in Pennsylvania Railroad days…as I recall…
Have a good friend who has ordered one of the new 300 cc BMW’s manufactured in India. There are only ten of those machines allowed into Canada, she is petite and currently rides a Yamaha 250 cc,. She was the oldest and operating the smallest in terms of displacement motorcycle in the 100 year anniversary of the two ladies who rode from NYC to Springfield to San Francisco this past summer; and took took her time coming home…
More guts and physical ability than I could ever muster…
A train derailment took out that lovely train station. There’s still a stop there but the pomp of the railroad heyday is gone.
Gardners Candy is in town. Decent candy but not my favorite. Since the heart attack I’ve really throttled back on chocolate. Sadly.
That’s a big trip on a small machine. I’m not up to that now. Maybe never.
Of hand; from where to where for your dealer;
40 minutes further in your neck of the woods is quite a distance!
Ok. I went to Google Maps and plotted the route I would generally take to get there that would avoid Interstate 99. That route would take 55 minutes and cover 34 miles.
Wandering Route to the new Kissell Motorsports
If I go on the freeway it would be 30 minutes.
I feel like there’s a common thread between baseball, fishing, and riding. Every time you step to the plate your skills are tested and their’s a chance for glory. So we keep stepping up for another crack at greatness but knowing we could get skunked just the same.
Thankfully my batting average on the bike is far greater than on the field. (fishing has been around .700 so I’ve got that going for me too!)
I have never thought of things like that. I haven’t played baseball in almost 50 years. About the same for the last time I went fishing. Man, where did the time go? So that’s probably why it hasn’t come up. I can see fishing. Baseball is a bit harder to imagine.
A ride is always a cure for the extraneous noise I tend to bump into and I too try to get a little something in ever day. You do not stop riding because you get old, no, you greet old because you stop riding! Or something like that.
Off topic here but tell me Steve. Is the optical viewfinder on your G15 as inaccurate as it is on my G16?
Well, I’m off to the rest of my daily fix ?
I hope I don’t ever get old!
The G15 optical viewfinder is pretty much worthless for anything beyond pointing in the right direction. It’s no different than my wife’s G16. Perhaps that’s a bit harsh. It does show about 80 percent of the picture. I live and die by the rear display.
Hey Mr. Williams,
The collective “we” would not navigate / gravitate to your site if we did not welcome your perspective, be it written or captured in the images you choose to share with us. Thank you. ‘Been said that riding is akin to meditation; allowing one to be omnipresent in the moment, subconsciously witnessing and processing on a subliminal level, but allowing the inundation of inputs to evaporate as we pass. Mindful meditation.
Thank you for your supportive words. I try and remain mindful of myself and the world I occupy at any given moment. Riding provides the most consistent, and extended experience. But I”m to be in that space more often generally. It’s work for me…
Dave Masse’s point about there being “restoration” and “happiness” in the “mayhem” of the city speaks to me. I find that just gearing up, mounting my bike and heading out is enough to re-calibrate my brain, calm my nerves, and allow for some mindfulness–even in the midst of crazy traffic. I will admit that occasionally the traffic will get under my skin and I’ll need more, which is my signal to go farther, ride longer, take in more of the moto drug. It’s the only addiction I have…
I feel the same way. While I don’t often have the urban experience and can’t really say if the experience would persist, the gearing up does recalibrate my mind.
Moto drug — love that idea. I wonder if it’s addictive?