The best things in life are free goes the old song. Sleep, laughter, love, friends and good memories — examples of the things money can’t buy.
Good Memories
Of all my rides and Vespa meanderings, the picture of the scooter on a winding road near Hyner View State Park, not far from Renovo, Pennsylvania, on my way home from a camping trip, shines in my memory. What surprises me now is how much the planning and anticipation stayed with me — as if it were a riding event all it’s own.
I’ve been turning another event over in my head, a short trip of five and a half hundred miles, to visit my father, departed now for some years. And like the camping trip, the mental planning and imagining has proved just as exciting.
Perhaps you find satisfaction in the same way?
Imagining the Ride
I imagine myself on the road before dawn, easing into the dark to extend the riding day to allow for choices of coincidence encountered on the road. I know how many miles I need to travel on a direct route — 250 miles to my destination. Miles and miles of winding, at least until I hit the flat grids of Ohio, roads. But between here and there I’ll be presented with endless opportunities to turn left or right away from the plan. Depending on the choices I make I could easily ride 600 miles or more before returning home.
Lying in bed with a map before falling asleep fires the nighttime imagination.
Imagination is always assaulted by the demands of reality — there are things I must do which always seem to try and generate a list. The riding checklist.
The Riding Checklist
There’s a lot of things to do before departing on a trip. The less attractive tasks spin around maintenance, something with which I have a love/hate relationship. Oil and filter change, spark plug change, hub oil change, air filter change, tire change. I usually look forward to change. Hopefully I’ll get the tools out on a lovely day.
I don’t make checklists. At least not for riding. Ideas and needs float around in my head and I try and attend to them. My resistance to organization in regard to riding is a conscious stand against regimentation and the robbery of fun. Just as I enjoy being lost there is a dark pleasure in finding myself scrambling because I forgot something. As long as it’s not my wallet I’m in good shape.
The mental checklist:
- Choice of routes — what general path will I follow? Are there areas I haven’t been to?
- Time constraints — how many daylight hours will I have to ride?
- Stops along the way — any places I want to see or visit?
- Photography — how complicated am I going to make this. Please God, remove video from my mind.
- Clothes
- Tools
- Gear
The choice of routes consumes most of my thinking but when I actually get on the road I often follow a remarkably general, unplanned route toward my destination. There’s a fine measure of serendipity to that sort of travel.
James D. Williams
My father has been drawing me toward this trip. I hear his voice from time to time, that familiar “hey boy” when I would answer the phone when he called. Our talks were usually focused on details of a project lest the conversations lag and end. This time he wants to talk more. In a few weeks it will be 13 years since he died. It’s time to pay a visit to his resting place.
I’m seldom superstitious but open to the unknown — a lesson I credit my wife Kim for teaching me. There are mysteries in life worth exploring, considering. She’s shown me magic and the shimmering of life. But that’s something for another post.
It’s time for a trip, I’m looking forward to the event and the memories it will nurture. Once the snow and cold are gone for a few days.
I try to remember, the best things in life are free.
Riding as a conduit to memories of your Dad, great post!
Thanks Steve for keeping the spark alive. Truly the best things in life are free!
Not too long ago I heard someone say that nothing in life is free. As a Christian I knew that was not true. I remember Jesus saying: If you continue in my Word you will know the truth and the truth will set you FREE!
Can’t wait for it to warm up a bit so I can enjoy riding my Vespa again and experience the FREEDOM of the open road.
Stay warm and safe. Thanks for your posts. Enjoy reading them.
Freedom — a big concept. And whether the truth sets us free or we experience freedom on the road, it seems we’re all on a journey of discovery in one way or another.
Thanks Dom.
I’m not sure I’ll be invited on that trip. Our lives overlap in many ways in this area but maybe you want to be alone or want to visit relatives and that’s easier if you are alone. But I’d like to toss my name into the hat. That sure is a nice photo of Jim at the workbench. I think I’ll set up a memoria display for my father today. I’ll send you a photo.
Not sure how that ride will come about and whether I’ll ride alone. I’ll let you know.
Travel…
For me it’s been day trips on the bicycle – 40 miles, 70 miles, sometimes (rarely) 100 miles. These trips tended to be fairly strict in terms of the planned route, since I was the engine and as such subject to occasional issues on account of thirst/hunger/muscle fatigue. The wanderlust aspect wasn’t all that prominent as a result, at least compared to shorter (usually urban) jaunts, which I’ve been doing since I was ten years old. Now that the Vespa has entered my life, I’m pondering this much broader canvas presented me teasing out the wheres and hows. And wanting to get hold of a few “real” maps to read and ponder, the way I did as a kid.
Your planned trip sounds quite good. Yes, you’ll want to hold off a bit till things warm up. I rode out earlier this evening (22º F), and while I dressed pretty well for it, I knew I’d only be able to stand about 20 minutes of it at speed. Good rolling to you!
Back when I used to bicycle I never found the experience anything like riding on the Vespa. It was always a physical slog for me focused on the route and getting back home. I’m sure I saw things along the way but all my bike riding memories orbit the physical ordeal. Perhaps bicycle riding wasn’t for me.
Like you, the Vespa has expanded opportunities across the board.
Cold this morning. I have my gear laid out. Trying to decide if I want to brave the 9F air and roads that look like winter. No snow but the one going past the front of the house looks like it should be slippery. Looks are deceiving. Testing the road surface earlier and it appears to be dry and has adequate traction. We’ll see.
I LOVE that picture of the scooter on the winding riding road. So much so that I have added the park to my list of places to visit.
I too enjoy trip planning, and anticipation. So much so that, after even the most fabulous of adventures, I always feel let down somehow. Not because the trip wasn’t as awesome as I imagined it would be, but because I miss the anticipation, the daydreams, that having something specific to look forward to.
I need to start planning this year’s vacation. Only then will it become real.
That winding road is one of the many little backroads in central Pennsylvania. A lot of riders miss it as they tear along the boring US 6 or other main arteries. I tend to look for the roads that you find it hard to maintain 40mph…