Many mornings of late start with just wandering through the countryside near home. More to help brain and body greet the day than any sort of riding adventure. There’s a slow, reflective state that I can enter as the scooter quietly rolls along, and I just soak in the view.Continue Reading
Riders are unique individuals. They may ride the same scooter or motorcycle, or dress according to a code or style, but when you look closely, they’re different in small ways, and big. Thinking about riders I’ve known, I’ve not met two who are the same.
Recently I had the opportunity to ride again with my friend Paul Ruby, and with fellow blogger and Vespa rider, David Masse, who had ridden his scooter from Toronto, Canada to have a closer look at the sticks of Pennsylvania.
There’s a special magic in the mountains and forests of central Pennsylvania that can cause even the most even tempered riders to succomb to a sudden onset of riding madness — that temporary giddiness that results from flying through the world on two wheels. And when it happens, it’s hard to tell where it will lead.
It’s not often that you meet a Canadian lying in the road.Continue Reading
The past few weeks have been a collection of exquisite riding weathers — fog, warm days, cool mornings. For many riders it would open the door to long rides and adventure. I wish I could say that’s what I’ve been doing. But I’ve been doing some aimless wandering, on foot and on the Vespa scooter, but it’s not so much about the physical act as it is about engaging the senses. Relishing the perceptions of being out in the world.
I stood for a long time at this railroad crossing gazing at the edge where what’s visible disappeared into the fog. I wasn’t looking for anything; just feeling life flow around and through me.
That’s often the case when I’m riding the scooter.Continue Reading
I have no idea what to write. Only a handful of photos from a recent ride. A ride fueled by a desire to be on the road and in the world. No goals. No destination. Just the need to recharge my spiritual batteries. To take a long Vespa ride.
At this point in my life you wouldn’t think I would need to justify or rationalize why I’m getting on the Vespa. Oddly though, I find myself at times struggling for a reason. Perhaps desire is enough.
I sat at the end of the driveway for a few minutes wondering which way to go. I was reduced to left or right. Growing impatient I muttered to myself, “F*ck it” and turned left.
All I was doing was keeping the Vespa in motion, confident that some plan or idea would surface. As the scooter rolled along familiar pavement I remembered a conversation with a friend about an Amish bakery. A plan emerged and 40 minutes later found myself surveying boxes of Bear Claws and cream filled donuts in a self-serve bakery along Smulton Road in Smulton, Pennsylvania.
No one was around. A can with cash sat on a table to accept payments. All the regular donuts were gone — the telltale chocolate rings evidence of the prize I was after. I left without sampling the more complex cream filled offerings.Continue Reading
Just down the road from my home, I sometimes stop at the Boalsburg Military Museum to make a photograph of the scooter. I’m not sure why but suspect it’s often a time where I contemplate where I might be going that day. A kind of riding ritual connected that lets me consider options that factor in time, weather and how I’m feeling.
On this morning last weekend I was thinking about the fog I could see in the distance and the appointment I had with my friend Paul Ruby at Saint’s Cafe in State College, Pennsylvania. Conflicting assignments. The desire to ride through fog is always strong, but so are the get together’s at Saint’s to look at and talk about photography. Some quick calculations suggested I may be able to touch both.Continue Reading