Scooter in the Sticks

Exploring life on a Vespa, Royal Enfield Himalayan, Honda Trail 125, and a Kawasaki W650

Living Better with Scooters and Motorcycles

Riding and the Meaning of Life

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A 2001 Kawasaki W650 motorcycle parked along a highway.
Alone on the road, I don’t often know where my thoughts will lead.

Why We Ride

A fine marketing slogan that swept through the Moto-world a few years ago with the predictable declarations of freedom and escape. I don’t deny those things for they are certainly present, but there is something larger at work as I ride.

On the surface, I rolled the Kawasaki W650 motorcycle out the door to ride to breakfast. Alone, on a hot day, by myself. A simple act with nothing much on my mind as I pulled the choke and thumbed the machine to life.

And almost instantly I was climbing up the Allegheny Front on a road I generally avoid.

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The Power of Fog and Riding

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Cows resting in a pasture on a foggy morning.
The world is simpler in the fog.

Powerful Motivator

Fog still has power over me. Awakening at 5:30 AM and catching a glimpse of that magical murk drives the sleep from mind and body and I am ready to ride. Or more precisely, ride so I can document the world I seldom see. The one shrouded in fog and stripped of the noise and clutter of too much stuff.

I was surprised how quickly I could get up, take care of the dogs, and get out the door on the Vespa. The power of fog and riding to motivate and inspire hasn’t faded.

Note to self: I’m not old yet.

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Fog, Fuel, and a Long Ride to Breakfast

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Two motorcycles at a convenience store for fuel.
The fog was beginning to clear by the time we stopped for gas.

Morning Fog

A few things were different on this ride. It was the first foggy morning in a long time. I love riding in fog. Mostly because photographs appear more dramatic and ethereal. I wasn’t sure how Dave felt about it but since he was waiting on his motorcycle when I arrived at his house I figured everything was ok.

Thinking about fog I was reminded of a ride on a Kawasaki KLR in the fog and took a look at an old post that highlights some of the ethereal moments in that kind of light. If you don’t ride in fog you may want to have a look at what you’re missing.

And for once I didn’t need to stop for fuel. My plan was a relaxed sixty mile ride to breakfast but outdated information from Google Maps upended it and we ended up having to ride almost twice as far before sitting down to eat and having to choose between bacon and eggs or a bacon cheeseburger.

Bacon and eggs is aways the clear winner.

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Riding in the Shimmering Heat

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A hot tea and big chocolate chip cookie sitting on a counter with a motorcycle parked outside the window.
Elements of a reprieve from the heat.

Don’t Tell Me I Can’t Ride

It was already pushing 90 degrees when I rolled the W650 out of the garage this morning. The National Weather Service has been in full panic mode, warning everyone to stay inside like the world is ending. I almost took the car.

I had every excuse ready: It’s too hot. I’m getting older. I should be more careful. Then I caught myself. I spent summers welding inside steel barges in heat like this. Now I’m supposed to be too delicate to ride a motorcycle because it’s 90 degrees? Please. So I geared up, hit the starter, and rode anyway.

The heat was real, but so was the smile on my face the entire time.

I ran my errands, stopped for tea and a cookie, and sat there watching the heat shimmer off the pavement, feeling more alive than I have in weeks.

I’m 72 years old. I still know my limits. And I’m nowhere near ready for the rocking chair. If that makes me stubborn, so be it.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

Aging and the Desire to Ride Motorcycles

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A Royal Enfield Himalayan motorcycle parked at a forest vista.
Stopped at Wampler Vista in Rothrock State Forest.

As Old as I Think

The air was clear, the light brilliant as my friend Dave and I started our ride to breakfast. I can’t count how many times I’ve stopped at Wampler to take in the view, thrilled that the only evidence of civilization are motorcycles and the path carved from the side of the mountain. I’m still drawn to this place, visited many times as a simple destination for an evening ride to watch the light change, see a black bear cross the road, or listen to a hawk shriek overhead.

I’ve been speaking with a friend about getting old and what that means. The conversation highlighted the value of curiosity and adventure as a way to keep old age at bay. My body is aging but my mind stays young through motion, thought, and living. I wonder whether I ride to stay young or I feel young because I ride.

Whatever it is, the desire to ride motorcycles remains strong.

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Scooter in the Sticks

Exploring life on a Vespa, Royal Enfield Himalayan, Honda Trail 125, and a Kawasaki W650

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