I have a personal riding mantra — don’t rush, go slow, be present. It’s in my head during the ride and reaches into the rest of my life.
Do you have a mantra?
Don’t Rush — Vespa on Wet Roads
After a long work week, I was looking forward to a ride on the Vespa. Waking to rain on Saturday morning was a disappointment. In part, because I wanted to do some work in the garden and around the house. But mostly because I couldn’t ride.
Or so my brain was telling me.
When I have the chance to sit still and think, I can often see the tricks my mind plays. Like fueling assumptions about weather and riding.
On the road, my riding mantra calls on me to slow down and step away from the more frenetic pace that’s so easy to drown in. Not rushing is important in making clear decisions. And when the roads are wet.
Riding along the silver threads of pavement winding through the central Pennsylvania forests is always a pleasure. Especially when I’m not in a rush.
Go Slow — See More
It’s hard to go slower than stop. Bringing the scooter to a halt along the road gave me an opportunity to witness the lush growth all around. Especially the fiddleheads unfurling in the rain. Can’t remember ever seeing one through the windshield of the car. Or even on the scooter unless I stop to look around. A friend and experienced photographer once told me you don’t see anything unless you’re traveling less than 35mph. I’m not that good and have adjusted the speed to 25mph or less.
Except for limited access highways the maximum speed limit on Pennsylvania roads is 55mph. And most small secondary roads, the ones I love to prowl, the limit is even lower. Learning to ride slowly is an art. I know few riders who have mastered it.
Everyone seems to be in a hurry.
Riding Inventory
Alone on the road, traveling at a pace that allows a bit of time to digest the surroundings and entertain thoughts, often leads me to think about who I am as a rider. Slow going, loner, keeping to the little roads and consuming time rather than miles. At least for now.
Don’t rush, go slow, be present. That works. So does the scooter.
The places I ride, like this road in Rothrock State Forest, afford a slow and ambling pace. Saw a black bear loping along the road once.
Primeval Riding
In my first age of riding the Vespa was fun. Still is. But over time it has become much more. Anyone who’s advanced past the occasional rider stage knows how addictive it can be. And it’s not just about movement or speed. There’s a blossoming of the senses that lay dormant in most other vehicles or places.
I ask myself if I would pick my way across a stream if I didn’t have a camera. Just to look around? Would I stop at all? Yes, maybe, I don’t know. What I do know is that I see things while riding. And I see more when I’m going slow.
Be Present
As a kid I wandered and explored the woods nearly every chance I could. Now, 55 years later, I still am. A big old kid. One signal that I’m not a kid is the increasing difficulty I have climbing up the bank along the road. As a kid I would never worry about twisting my ankle or breaking a leg.
It’s hell to get old.
But it’s good to still have the desire to explore and be present in the world. And my life. As best I can.
Smell the Roses
Or Dame’s Rocket in this case. Hesperis matronalis for the botanists who read Scooter in the Sticks. It’s blooming everywhere here now and drapes the already beautiful roadways with white and purple flowers.
Can’t say I’ve ever seen another scooter or motorcycle along the road with the rider stealing a sniff of any of nature’s fragrant gifts.
Have you ever stopped to smell the roses or am I turning into an old eccentric rider?
The Cookie Mantra
Among the vices I feel comfortable writing about are cookies. Small round rewards for the good ride, the ride where for a few minutes at least I’ve dwelled attentively in the world. Tea, cookies and a few scribbled notes in a journal provide a non-moving way to connect with life.
Perhaps it has it’s own mantra — don’t rush, go slow, be present. Otherwise I’d make short work of those cookies…
t says
‘Tis a wonderful essay, verbally and visually. ‘Much appreciation for what you offer to the world.
Be Well
Steve Williams says
Thanks T. When you have a wonderful ride it’s easy to come up with something for a blog post.
len says
Hi Steve,
Great post mate.
“its hell to get old….does it just appear or creep up slowly on you….just turning 40 myself and feel I don’t fully understand of whats to come yet:(
“Slow going, loner, keeping to the little roads and consuming time rather than miles” – This does sound a lot like me, we always among other family holiday hire a boat once a year for a week river cruising in Norfolk UK the kids(now young men) love it and in the early days we used to be chugging down the river all day long but now we hardly move far then stop to chill and explore.
another nice post Steve.
Kind regards
Len
Steve Williams says
40…. I remember that. I was still a kid. Unless health issues surface I think you can feel young for a long time.
Chugging along a river sounds nice. Anything by the water does. And what a great place to chill and explore.
Bryce Lee says
“Have you ever stopped to smell the roses or am I turning into an old eccentric rider?”
“You is what you is or thinks you is,” paraphrased by the late Walt Kelly cartoonist for the comic strip Pogo.
Mind smelling the roes can be enjoyable as well.
It is Victoria (for the late Queen Vicky) Day (third Monday in May)here in Canada except it seems Quebec tends to ignore such holidays much preferring St. Jean Baptiste for thair person of holiday note. Here it is the weekend to open cottages, do fireworks at night and general lay back and bum.
Well recall the ditty: “It’s the 24th of May and the Queen’s birthday; if you don’t give us a holiday we’ll all run away. ” Tell the phrase to the young people of today and they look at you strangely, the phrases of old passed down from generations seems not to be in vogue
any more. As much as your phrase “smell the roses.”
Mind this blog read today May 23, seems to be more positive and uplifting a post than immediate prior such postings. And Steve, you are alive, perhap moreso than a year ago, when you were recovering from surgery and a blow to your physical existence.
May I suggest you go hug your Kim, then Junior, then Lily and perhaps a tree on your property and be thankful for small mercies. The hugs will make you feel good;
and even though you are working today, do so when you come home, for us Canadians, eh?
Steve Williams says
It seems we’ve arrived at that place where we’re old and we talk about “those young people”. What happened??
There is a lot of things lost on the young. They think Ozzy Osbourne is a reality star. They never heard of Syd Barrett and Pink Floyd. And the first landing on the moon is like old science fiction. And they make fun of my LL Bean plaid flannel shirts. Smelling roses is old school. They’re posting them on Instagram.
I do have much to be grateful for a generally feel pretty good. Have already hugged Kim and Lily, photographed a couple trees. Junior though, well, he dispatched a bunny today. A first for him. Not sure how that happened but I’m not ready to give him a hug just yet. Alas, he is a dog…
And as always, anything I can do for Canadians!
Frank Armstrong says
“A friend and experienced photographer once told me you don’t see anything unless you’re traveling less than 35mph.” I’m probably the one that said that to you, and I was merely passing on what had been told to me by my mentor: Oliver Gagliani. While I don’t ride a scooter, I have driven and still do drive very slowly down back roads across the whole north American continent. And like you, I’m slow and careful where I place each step when I’m on foot with a tripoded camera on my shoulder. At 80, I’m no longer the mountain goat I was 20 years ago. As to you cookie addiction…..well you’re on your own with that one.
Steve Williams says
I thought it was you Frank who shared that bit of wisdom. One of the many insights you’ve shared with me since we met.
Hard to believe you’re 80. You seem the same now as the first time I met you. Only digital. I was never a mountain goat but really do pay close attention these days to where I tread. Don’t need any more physical issues than the ones I already have.
I have my cookies. You have your single malt. Seems equal right?
Robert says
Cookies! Ummmmm.
Steve Williams says
Cookies. One of the few words that speaks volumes.
Tim says
Great shots, looks like a nice trip!
Steve Williams says
Thanks Tim.
RichardM says
Beautiful images! I doubt that I have a mantra. Maybe “when it breaks, I’ll fix it… again”.
I like the hissing sound that tires make while riding on wet roads. I don’t really notice the decrease in traction anymore. I don’t think that I look forward to rainy days but if it’s raining, that’s fine. It’s still a good day for a ride.
As for the cookie reward, that may be enough to look forward to rainy days!
Steve Williams says
I think Dom has that same mantra Richard. Maybe it’s a URAL thing.
Once I get a few rainy rides under my belt the resistance goes away. But each spring I go through the rain dread again.
John Gullett says
Nothing like a windscreen on a Vespa in the rain.
Beautiful fiddlehead shot !
Frank Armstrong and I share other, likewise convivial vices, but there is nothing like being in the moment when you can do it. And, we hope, there will be many more moments in front of you !
Remember Groucho: “You are only as young as the woman you feel.”
Steve Williams says
Being in the moment is magic. And for me, it takes a lot of practice. The scooter helps show me how to focus but man it’s tough to bring with me when I dismount. But I’m getting better.
You and Frank share convivial vices huh? Oh what could they be…
That Groucho comment — I’ll have to ponder that for a bit.
Kitty says
I used to ride long distances on large displacement touring motorcycles, and I reveled in cruising at illegal high speeds all day long, and covering much ground. Then I bought a smaller engined motor scooter, and slowed down. I’m older now, and I’m enjoying that more. Now I’d like to buy an even smaller engined scooter, and go touring slower, covering less distance — and I’ll enjoy it even more!
Steve Williams says
I’ve ridden a few big touring bikes and can relate to the high speed cruising. Spent some time on a BMW R1200 RT and was shocked to look down at the speedometer to see I was traveling 80mph. Would have sworn I was going 50. Easy to see how a person could spend 10 hours on the saddle of a big comfortable motorcycle and chew up 600 or 700 miles in a day. Probably would have done it myself if my situation were different.
But I’m traveling down the road you are with the smaller scooter. It’s a fine road.
BWB (amateriat) says
“Make haste slowly.”
A friend an client created that mantra, and I think it’s a good one.
I like the occasional fast ride, via pedals or engine. But even on those occasions, “fast” has evolved with time for me…less goal-oriented, more of a sensate thing. Less about maximum velocity on a given path, much more about experiencing the path, understanding its permutations, re-appreciating all five senses, as opposed to just one or two. And you really understand this be learning to slow up a bit, and actually enjoy the pace.
Even when I enjoyed frequently riding fast, I never quite understood the urge to only want to go fast. That speed, like winning, wasn’t just everything, but the only thing. When it stops being an either/or thing, it makes every ride a revelation.
Might’ve been nicer to have sorted this out 25 years earlier. Better late than never, I say.
Note: It looks like Melody suffered some light damage after what might’ve been a bungled theft attempt a day or so ago (we were away the weekend). A fairly easy fix, the worst being a bent brake lever and broken side reflector, but it still left me rattled. (Stuff) Happens, I tell myself, staying mostly-if-not-entirely zen about it.
Steve Williams says
“Make haste slowly”. I like that. Simple yet not so simple.
I never understood fast in a motorized vehicle once I graduated from high school and left my drag racing and Baja 500 dreaming in my parents garage. Enjoying the ride for other reasons is where I am today.
Sorry to hear that someone tried to lift your scooter. That would have me clenching my fists…
Charlie says
I just want to get out and ride to the places where you can’t hear anything man made at all. turn the bike off, sit and bathe in the silence. Be a little while longer tho, leg is still not upto holding the weight of the bike… Until then, loving your backwater pics Steve 🙂
Steve Williams says
Hard to find a silent place in the East. Even in the remote places there always seems to be a chainsaw in the distance, or an airplane overhead.
Hope you heal quickly and are back on the road! Skippy did a number on you.
Dar says
‘Drink in the moment and practice makes better’ I am a meandering kind of rider, I am not fond of going fast just for fast’s sake. I love to stop and drink in the surroundings. I actually prefer solo riding to group, because when you are in a group you are not in charge of the stops or personal points of interest. Quite often when I find myself riding I will see something and think “Oh my I need to stop and take a pic” I love the feeling of being part of the riding environment and drinking in the sights, smells, sound, feelings, and of course the instructor part of me loves to practice to make my riding smoother and better, so that’s my mantra.
David Abrams says
Great post and site. I’m glad to see there are others in the world who also enjoy exploring the world on a scooter and taking pictures.
Pamela, aka Pama says
Steve,
What a delightful and wonderfully true-to-self post. I, too, don’t rush, go slow and be present. I simply can’t think of any other way to ride and fully take it all in. For me riding is like savoring a fine cup of coffee or tea. The cuppa has to take its time to come to a full ~bloom~ before being at its best. I see riding that way, taking the time for the ride to reach its full bloom. Savoring every inch of roadway and the elements present are the added sweetner to the brew. Often a song comes to my thinking — “I may never pass this way again”. What would I remember of the ride, of the places and beauty along the way? What footprint would be left on my mind years after? Would I choose to go back there and ride the ride again? It would always be different than the first time. Or would I be content in the memories of the ride — knowing I allowed that moment in time to ~reach its full bloom~. I think the later is perfect enough to don’t rush, go slow, be present — should I never pass this way again…
Ias I stand in my kitchen steaming fresh kale as a take-along for tomorrow’s Saturday ride, I reflect on rides of old and roadways traveled both my Vespa and my soul. New adventure awaits and yet nothing takes away the wonders of travels of old. We are, as humans, a collection of roses — if we stop long enough to see and ~smell the roses~.
Ride safe dear web friend, and say hello to Paul — it was good to see him posted on here recently. Let him know my Vespa ET 2-stroke still purrs along combing the many backroads and US Forest Service roads of Georgia. I hope that makes him smile.
Steve Williams says
As I read your comments I couldn’t help but think of how riding can be a powerful memory generator at a deep level. It can support introspection in ways that other modes of transport don’t. The notion of questioning what to remember should you never pass this way again — that’s strong.
Safe rides on your ET2!