The first late summer morning where the temperature dropped to 50F, chilly enough to use the liner in my winter riding jacket, the bright sun adding just enough warmth to temper the cool air making its way inside jacket and pants. The leaves are starting to fall as the fall equinox approaches. Before long the warm, sleepy summer rides will give way to the more bracing rides of fall. Over the years a pattern has emerged showing my riding mileage increases as the temperature decreases. Riding a Vespa scooter is different for everyone I guess.
For me, riding continues to be a solitary experience taking place in the quiet, empty places in central Pennsylvania. At one point in time the ride was about the machine but that faded a long, long time ago. Now it’s become a form of meditation, at times simple and free and others difficult, puzzling, and moving into the unknown. There is an element of self-surrender and introspection, probably the closest I’ll come to mysticism in this life. Strange what a ride can become.
I’ve ridden enough motorcycles to know that the experience would eventually move in the same direction. On the Vespa I just get there quicker. Still, those moments of mystery are short lived and fleeting. One moment I’m flying and the next I’m so hungry that all I can think about it finding somewhere to eat. And this day I ended up at Cool Beans Coffee House in Bellefonte, Pennsylvania. My bad luck that they are closed on Sunday. And worse as I did the mental gymnastics of the next best food stop my phone rang sending me off in another direction all together. And so it goes, even the most innocent rides on the most mundane days can swing from sublime to routine, sometimes in moments, others in miles. Regardless of what the experience is for me I want more, an undeniable craving to be in the world, on the road, air rushing by in a shimmering shaking of living.
As I worked my way home I came upon this odd collection of covered shipping containers, a motorcycle wheel revealing the cargo. The eighteen motorcycles, or I suppose there could be some scooters too, are waiting to provide their rider with a jumping off point for the body, mind and spirit. Riding a Vespa, or anything else for that matter, will be different for everyone. But ride long enough and the machine will vanish and something else will creep into your mind, a flight of fancy that’s unlooked for but mesmerizing.
At least that’s been my experience…
Hi Steve,
I think most times my riding experience is very similiar to yours: riding my scooters solitary, in a quiet and empty environment, only me, my camera and paper notebook. At some point in time, the ride was about the machine. It´s not anymore. “Now it’s become a form of meditation, at times simple and free and others difficult, puzzling, and moving into the unknown “: I feel exactly the same. The only difference is that I discover that i could do it (and come quicker to that point) not only in the Vespa, but with any scooter in the garage. Today i´m riding a Vespa GTS, a LML 150 and a Honda Helix. And not a single one motorcycle.
Thanks for giving us your posts in the blog.
Vasco
Vasco,
Solitary riding yields many rewards, those you and I noted just being a few. I hope to test other scooters in my garage at some point. Or maybe a motorcycle. I’ve given up trying to predict or plan the future though…
I find that the advantage to riding my scooter to work in the winter is that there are no Harley riders around to laugh at me. LOL.
Cold weather certainly does diminish the voices of detractors!
I always found my most enjoyable riding was in the autumn period. The cooler days
were a blessing in many ways. I always wore full leather (not chaps) so the cooler air was comfortable. Well rememberthe period from last week of August 2006 to Mid november of that year. I twas the last time i was able to ride amotorcycle. Planned ight hour surgery for removal of malignant organs and related basically killed my ability to enjoy those wonderful days. Then in 2007after surgery chemo (for four long years) basically killed the whole experience of motorcycling.
I have photos of the period however can thank you Steve for riding in spirit for me
when I shall neverreturn. And too in your own mind, you’re going to be grandfather. Was this the daughter whose marriage you documented so well some years prior?
And yes the days are just a wee bit nippy out there. Your temperature is in the older non-metric system, this Wedensday morning it is all of 6 degrees celsius outside and the sun has appeared so thing shall no doubt become warmer as the day progresses.
I’m sorry for the circumstance that led to the end of your riding life. Each one of us will arrive at the same moment by one road or another. I’m glad that I can help replace a little of the experience for you. It’s probably why storytelling is such a powerful art form!
Right now the riding weather is perfect. If I could only push away a lot of the work and noise calling out for attention…
I always lament the passing of Summer. When I lived on Long Island the change is season was gradual but here in the Catskills it’s sharp and severe. Morning temps drop into the lower forties and it seems cloudy all the time adding to the chill. This year the Summer seemed especially short and unlike you Steve, I don’t ride in frigid temps. The cold and salt destroy my soul and equipment.
Sounds as if life in the Catskills are pushing your two-wheeled life into a Rip Van Winkle state. Cold and salt definitely have the power to suck out a rider’s soul. As I get older I wrestle more and more with them.
Another great thoughtful post Steve. On Tuesday I was riding home, going west, and the setting sun left a brilliant yellow/orange glow in the sky. Occasionally a blinding bit of the sun would peek out on the horizon. I could see the sunset progress as I rode. Fading so much faster than anyone could hope to ride. There was nothing to do but watch the spectacle wane, and eventually the sunset was gone, leaving the western sky bright with the colors of day, and the surrounding landscape in deepening gloom.
It was a deeply moving experience.
David,
Your comment captured the mood and feeling of the fading days perfectly. Oh the gloom…
It’s funny how we all feel the same or similar feelings, for me it started with a scooter and my journey has taken me to a motorcycle. I can however in the future see a scooter again, but one with more than just 50ccs . But in the end I don’t care what kind of two wheel steed, just that it carries me through the wind and makes my soul continue to sing free.
A machine that carries a person through the wind is absolute magic. Whether a scooter or motorcycle doesn’t really matter much.
Steve, if you get bored with the nature rides, you’re most welcome here in Toronto.
We have tens of miles of urban pavement and lots of Xmas (aka traffic) lights.
It’s easy to meditate in nice nature; try to take it to another level by meditating in the city 🙂
I’ve experimented with riding meditation in Baltimore and Pittsburgh. I think it’s possible but really does require letting go of a lot more habits that is necessary in the sticks….