Empty and Alone
Given the option, in most situations I choose to be alone. Finding Saint’s Cafe nearly empty at 9am on a weekend because Penn State is on break is a gift. It’s the same with my Vespa — I embrace the quiet ride.
Watery Routes
Departed Saint’s under a light rain and empty roads. No where to be and time on my hands led me to little used tracks through forest and farmlands.
Peaceful. Quiet.
And nothing but the thoughts in my head to bother me.
Vespa and Gravel
The Vespa is no dirt bike. More recent evidence of that will appear in a future post.
But if you’re not in a hurry and don’t mind poking along, the scooter will go pretty much anywhere save for water and deep mud. And some suggest it will handle those too with the right setup.
But I’m content wandering. Wandering through the world and life just taking in the scenery.
Quiet
One of the best aspects of riding a Vespa scooter is the silence. When matched with the right landscape the experience is sublime.
I have the feeling that most of the world is uncomfortable with silence. Why else does every venue seem to be filled with music and noise. Riders and drivers pumping their head full of music. Watching some adventure riding videos on YouTube I was struck by the driving pace of the riding and music beds. Is that the goal of riding? Go fast and make a lot of noise?
I must be weird. I often want to go slower and slower and not hear any extraneous sound.
Wandering on Foot
At one point I pulled off the road to wander a bit in a local marsh. The zig zag walkway reminded me I don’t always have to make a straight line between point A and B. There’s time to wander.
I forget that sometimes.
Big World, Small Scooter
Riding a scooter offers a unique perspective on the world and life. It’s uncommon for me to stop my car and wander off for no good reason and then suddenly turn and see it on the landscape and say to myself that it’s good to be standing on the earth right now. Maybe I would if I stopped the car. But it doesn’t seem to happen.
A scooter, and for some motorcycles, it’s so easy to pull off the road and look around. And it’s common to wander.
The gift of the awakened rider — wandering.
Being Alone
I don’t know what exactly attracts me to these isolated places. A freeway underpass is at once empty yet just overhead churns the thrum of mechanized humanity. But even in these noisy, chaotic places there always seems to be a quiet place to be found when you’re wandering.
I need to wander more often. Embrace the quiet ride.
Really.
Fantastic photos! They really match the title. I rarely listen to anything while riding, the ear plugs make hearing anything besides the wind in my helmet a challenge. Plus, it makes it difficult to listen for any weird engine or driveline noise. Something you need to do when you choose to ride something like a Ural…
Thanks Richard. Hard to go wrong photographically when the light, moisture and landscape are all leaning my direction.
I wear foam earplugs to minimize the wind noise and help quiet things down generally. It’s a luxurious place to be on the scooter in relative silence. I can still hear what I need to hear but I wouldn’t want to add any laters of sound like talk or music. The only time I might consider otherwise is if I were droning along on the interstate highway and feeling tortured by the boredom.
Regarding the URAL — I didn’t think you needed to listen to anything. I thought they just automatically died every 250 miles…
Steve… The more I read of your blog, the past two years now, the more I’ve come to appreciate ‘the quiet ride’. I never did understand why some folks insist on having a radio or any other form of electronic entertainment mounted on their bikes. I’ve always found that the sound of the engine itself, if anything, was always entertaining enough. And the more mature (older) I get, the less I like of that. Thanks for another thought provoking entry.
I’ve seen some loud motorcycles come by with even louder music blaring from speakers on the bike. The rider had no helmet or earplugs that I could see. Seemed like absolute torture to me — motor, music and wind. But everyone is sparked differently.
Glad you found some satisfaction in the post. I often wonder how things are received. Thanks for the comments.
Jim:
As a fellow local Canadian we both could say we are getting better
with age and come to appreciate the world to a greater extent.
In my recent quest for a bluetooth headset to be able to get turn by turn voice directions from an app on the phone, I kept seeing all these headsets for communication with other riders (which can be appropriate at times) and multiple channel so one can listen to music and be able to get a phone call. All of that is the last thing I want is a phone call while riding and music.
I thought I was an oddball in being content with just riding with my own thoughts and clearing my mind of all the detritus of modern life.
Thank you for this article!
I can see advantages to the Bluetooth communication setup for certain riders and situations. Everyone has to make the choice that’s right for them. I’ve used the turn by turn voice stuff in the car via my iPhone when I need to get to an unknown location in a hurry. But riding, that’s a different story for me. Don’t need that sort of “right now” directions and don’t mind stopping to think about where I’m going. For now, I just want things as quiet as possible.
yes, I agree bike to bike in certain situations in appropriate. Since we go camping in places we are unfamiliar with I like to plot routes/destinations on roads that are not highways. I am currently using tourstart and just got the Cardo Q-solo to get turn by turn from routes I plot on the pc. This allows me to see routes from google earth also.
I ditched the mic on this setup.
Steve, I am so grateful for your blog. I have been following it for many years, and what you posted today reminds why I have followed it.
Thanks for the kind words Steel. Since I’ve retired I’ve tried to be more organized in terms of writing things for the blog. Turns out I’m much better just writing about whatever catches my attention whenever it arises. Wrote this one after waking around 2am. It popped into my head and that was that. Hard to plan that kind of thing.
Press the like button.
No like button in WordPress that I can figure out. So you’ll just have to write “like”! You’ll be appearing in an upcoming post. Still simmering ideas on how or if I raise you to mythic heights.
Good morning Steve,
I enjoy the quiet also now from our back screened-in porch in the early morning with a cup of coffee in my hands. The sound of the morning birds is also very relaxing. Never thought it would be like this in retirement here in New Bern, NC. Have been here since last September and just love it!!!
I’ve spent some time in New Bern — nice place though pretty hot when I was there. Was looking at a sailboat.
Quiet is not to be taken for granted. Morning bird songs are a gift. Can’t imagine now not hearing them…
I can only say Amen to your beautiful piece which absolutely describes how a Vespa fits into the slow and quiet mode of transport. This article confirms why I always expectantly open each of your pieces knowing something new/old and sublime will be revealed and explained, both in words and pictures.
Thank you!
Thanks will for your kind words of support. The Vespa is a quiet partner in a quest for a simple life. For me at least. Unfortunately there are many things the Vespa can’t do. Like declutter my office or garage…
I’ll endeavor to keep writing pieces that are worth reading. The Vespa does help with that challenge!
Steve: Many’s the time I think about my life in Gotham as an adult, and remembering how often I cherished finding a few moment’s quiet and solitude: for quite a few years I’d find it in bicycle rides out of the city for the better part of a day, and in later years I’d take the bike a somewhat shorter distance to the Cloisters in upper Manhattan early on a Saturday or Sunday morning, with little more than a flask full of tea. It was the most refreshing, and invigorating thing.
Now, out in the wilds of the Jersey Shore, I’ve all the quietude I could want, and it’s heavenly. I can “plug in” to whatever’s happening downtown, or even back in Gotham, whenever I want; I can also easily and thoroughly unplug, a luxury I didn’t always have as a city slicker. And even though my most-ridden bike now has an engine in it, the Vespa has in fact become the most simpatico vehicle I could imagine for quiet or even not-so-quiet moments. I can go for an exciting zip up the road when the mood strikes, but when I want a slower, more contemplative roll-along, the bike is totally willing and able to match my mood. This is one reason why I’m not at all interested in something like a louder aftermarket pipe: the bike makes a pleasant-enough deep-but-soft purr to my ears, and I have no need to “impress” others – this ride’s for me.
And, the ability to stop along the way, for any reason – yes, the Vespa allows this a good deal easier than most any motorcycle I can think of. As we’re both also photographers, we don’t need to tell each other what a big deal this is. But even for just finding a emotional “sacred spot” to stop and contemplate whatever, the non-fussiness of the bike invites momentarily leaving it behind for a little while. It won’t mind.
Right now, Melody is once again left behind at Long Branch while I hie thee hence to Penn Station with a literal full trainload of returning long-weekenders. (Yep, working on a holiday…the Freelancer’s Curse, but necessary sometimes.) It’s crowded and noisy, the opposite of what I usually crave, so I have REM on the headphones as I type this. Rather than merely endure the moment, I’m enjoying it as best I can: cheerfully dealing with the yang, knowing the yin is around the corner.
Good words, gooder photos, as usual. Ride on, kiddo.
A flask of tea. I’ve never taken tea along with me. Not sure why but reading those words sparked a desire to do what you’ve described with tea. We’ll see.
I always wonder how many people never give quiet a chance. It’s counter to practically everything we’re taught in this competitive, goal driven culture to do more and get more. Quiet demands we step off the train and let things go. Very hard to do. That empty space is pretty painful at first. Probably explains why smart phones are so popular — assures that you never have to feel that pain.
The Vespa is easy to stop. I don’t hesitate putting it on the centerstand at the edge of the pavement. It’s narrow, stands up straight, and cars can easily move past it while I make a picture or just wander around. Motorcycles create a much bigger obstacle on a side stand and I don’t want to have constantly put a big bike up on a centerstand. So the Vespa is perfect.
Hope work on a holiday isn’t too horrible. Be well and take care. I’ll shoot some more pictures in the meantime…
Given the option, in most situations I choose to be alone.
—yes! me too.
I’ve come to treasure solitude, to be alone with my thoughts and listen to the breeze make its way past me….carrying no sound of nearby traffic or people….just the echo of its passage past my ears.
Solitary surroundings have become a major destination qualifier….boondocking leads to solitude if one’s fortunate.
We’re both fortunate that places of solitude aren’t that far away. You’re an hour away from the Rocky Mountains. I’m 5 minutes from the Appalachians…
Beautiful words and pictures, Steve. I’m a fan of quiet as well.
Quiet is a precious commodity.
So inspiring! I’m taking delivery of first Vespa (but 3rd scooter) this week. I am so looking forward to poking along the quiet roads, and enjoying the winter sunshine. Can’t wait to get off the beaten track!