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

The Honda CT 125 Isn’t Just a Trail Bike

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Steve Williams with his Honda CT 125 trail bike.
I purchased the CT125 for dirt and gravel but it can go almost anywhere. (Photo by Paul Ruby)

Lead Up to a Ride

A few things are in play when I prepare for a ride and they are sometimes in conflict. Like deciding I want to ride the Kawasaki W650 but the destination takes me through miles and miles of dirt and gravel. I try to juggle riding the machines I have to keep them “exercised” and in good working order. A friend recently pointed out that I seem to be trying to balance them on the blog as well. Writing to meet the expectations of readers rather than just share the rides I make.

“I thought you wrote here as part of a personal documentation of your life on the road?”

It was pointed out that as soon as I work to satisfy some imagined expectations of readers the whole thing becomes more forced, less authentic, and ultimately will begin to feel like work. The exact reasons why I’ve put new content on my YouTube channel on hiatus.

So I’ll put the crystal ball away and quit being concerned about what readers want. Hopefully that won’t offend or drive anyone away.

I knew I wanted to take the Honda Trail 125 for a ride. Somewhere. And I had a fixed window of time to ride. In these situations I generally sit down at the computer and open Google Maps and start looking for a destination or route. In this case, for a place to eat breakfast. And the place I decided on was 35 miles away. The ride would mostly be on pavement with some time on roads where people were traveling far faster than the Honda could handle. The adventure would take me to the Kitchen Witch in Howard, Pennsylvania.

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Is 24-Horsepower Enough for a Motorcycle?

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2022 Royal Enfield Himalayan motorcycle parked along a farm field.
Simple, reliable, but too weak for serious riding?

Enter the Era of Downsizing Motorcycles

YouTube is currently full of content declaring the virtues of moving to smaller machines. The reasons vary but the changes are happening. Mostly because so many riders are older and perhaps feeling how much heavier machines are feeling. I’m familiar with those feelings.

The median age of an American motorcycle owner is around 50. In 1990 the median rider age was 32. And in 1985 it was 27. Not great news for manufacturers wondering where new customers are going to come from but no surprise the Boomers and GenXers, used to ever bigger and better SUVs and trucks, seem to end up with mammoth machines that are now getting a little uncomfortable.

Downsizing can be the result of wanting a motorcycle that’s just easier to handle. Or less expensive to own and operate. Or more fun. All that stands in the way of downsizing in an clear understanding of needs and an honest assessment of ego. Ego is a bitch to get past though. Just this morning I was talking with a fellow rider about Helite Turtle 2 airbags. Expensive. Probably useful. But when I saw the Hi-Viz yellow my first reaction was in how it would interrupt the elegant look of my Merlin Hixon II leather jacket.

Style before safety right? Turns out they do offer them in black.

Back to my 2022 Royal Enfield Himalayan. I downsized to it from my BMW K75 because that motorcycle was feeling heavy for the kind of riding I was doing. And it had more power than I needed. Ultimately I wanted a motorcycle to ride in the dirt and gravel. The Himalayan was a much better choice.

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A Tiny Taste of Freedom

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Vespa GTS 250 scooter on a farm lane.
Free in the world on a Vespa scooter.

Do You Taste Freedom When You Ride?

This portrait is different from other portraits made of the Vespa scooter. I made it with a tiny taste of freedom in my mouth.

The word freedom is tossed at everything from promises made by salesman about new cars to politicians proclaiming it with shaking fists. Abstract descriptions of something that has so many different meanings to so many different people that it’s difficult to feel it. How do I know when I’m free?

On this morning, at the moment I made this picture, I could feel the thrill of freedom in my chest. Like a kid released for the summer on that last day of school. For me, it began the moment I stepped out of the DMV with my renewed drivers license indicating I no longer needed to wear glasses when I ride. The surgery for removal of cataracts and subsequent implantation of new lenses correcting my vision to 20/20 gave a tiny taste of freedom then, and on this morning when I pulled on my helmet and didn’t have to legally fiddle with glasses it burst into life.

It was shocking how exciting it felt. So much that I had to temper the emotions so I could pay attention to the road. As I rode a smile acknowledged gone was pressure of glasses to my temples and nose, no ongoing need to raise the visor to reposition the glasses, and no more fogging of glasses on those frigid rides.

A little thing in a complicated world. But I’ll take every bite of this tiny taste of freedom. What about you? When was the last time you had a taste?

Do I Ride to Escape Reality?

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A Vespa GTS 250 scooter parked along a road in a forest.
A few quiet moments for reflection.

Glad I’m Not Young

In a culture obsessed with looking, acting, and being young I’m definitely off course and on a different road. It’s taken some time but I’m comfortable in my skin and with the circumstances of each moment as it comes along. I’m not saying I don’t care about how I look or take care of myself but I’m not on the social rollercoaster to deflect the onslaught of time on my body or try to convince anyone else that I’m not a 71-year-old man. My days aren’t driven by a desire to fill every moment with meaning or to chase an adrenalin or dopamine fix to be satisfied that I am living. I’m not trying to escape reality.

Meandering on a Vespa the the hills and dales of home provide me time to think, reflect, and enjoy the breaths I take without any weight of performance or requirement. Just me walking on the earth feeling in balance with life. And in the particular moment standing in the woods I was glad I’m not young.

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Falling in Love With an Empty Road

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2001 Kawasaki W650 parked in a driveway.
A routine start to breakfast with the W650.

A Benign Beginning

There’s nothing special or unusual about riding to my friend Paul’s house to join him for a ride to breakfast. They’re generally destination oriented by some route chosen for it’s scenic views of the landscape and as lightly traveled as possible. And with the Kawasaki W650 and Harley 48 gravel roads are off the ride menu.

Two breakfast destinations were in my head but the “best” choice remained elusive. Strange how much space a dining choice can occupy in a brain. To quiet my mind I’ll often repeat these two rules — RULE 1: “Don’t sweat the small stuff. RULE 2: It’s all small stuff.”

Difficult rules to follow or even believe. Embracing them calls into question the importance I attach to so many things. And my attachments often just make me miserable. While many things may require my attention, few rise to the level of the importance I create in my head. Like where we should have breakfast.

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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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