Long, Slow Look in the Mirror
How do I square a motorcycle with 74 horsepower and a top speed of 124 mph with slowness? Or even my 21 horsepower Vespa scooter. The truth is, slowness has little to do with the machine and a lot to do with the rider. It’s a matter of temperament and self-discipline.
More and more I realize I relish slowness — while riding, driving, eating, walking and pretty much every aspect of life. The holiday cold virus I endured did a good job of slowing me down. During the time I was in bed, reading, writing or just thinking, I was thinking about slowing down. A natural progression in life as I enter old age.
In a world seeming obsessed with remaining forever young, my thoughts were moving in a different direction.
Riding a Vespa Slowly
I’ve never been one to ride fast. Not that I can’t, but you just miss so much. The circumstances of my life, since I started riding 15 years ago, have kept me close to home with rides seldom more than a day in length. And despite the seemingly endless roads in central Pennsylvania, I am often riding along the same routes. Again. And again.
That’s where relishing slowness shines. Rushing to consume miles and rides seems to me to be the worst way to experience a place. Going fast, everything is just a blur of images and sensations. And eventually, a bore.
Going slow, and not just while riding, allows me to see more, experience more, and raise my awareness of the world around me. And I realize how much there is and no matter how often I revisit something, there’s always more. It explains why I remained excited to commute to work on the scooter for so many years. Every ride was different because I took the time to experience it.
Riding into State College to meet my friend Paul Ruby at Saint’s Cafe has been happening for as long as I can remember. I ride the same roads, walk the same sidewalks, and sit in the same places. And still, it’s like I’m experiencing it all for the first time.
Relishing slowness is a gift.
Slowing Down at Saint’s Cafe
Being the first one in a cafe is an exquisite way to start the day. With no one around I can relax and let the place reveal itself. The fragrance of coffee brewing, the sound of cups and plates being brought out, the silence before the music starts to play. I’ve been here probably a hundred times or more and each time it’s different. If I’m moving slowly, relishing slowness, I can see it.
Creature of Habit
Perhaps my embrace of moving slowly is connected to my simple wants. Particularly with food. I believe I could spend the rest of my life having oatmeal with apples and blueberries for breakfast. And at Saint’s Cafe, the same morning meal of a bagel with butter and a cup of Earl Grey tea has kept me satisfied for years.
Photography Meeting
Paul and I try to share new photographs each time we meet at the cafe. It’s a habit that first started back in January 2008 with my friend Gordon Harkins and has continued on and off through today.
While shooting film is no longer the norm (it still does happen from time to time) we still try and make prints. This morning Paul didn’t have time to print.
The Rush Begins, Time to Go
Eventually, the cafe gets crowded and noisy, my cue to make a hasty escape.
Wandering Through the Cold
I don’t remember the exact temperature that morning. I seem to recall 29F. I do remember I had to watch for ice. For a rider who is interested in relishing slowness, it makes it much easier to deal with cold weather riding. A rider who lacks the self-discipline of throttle control has no business riding below the freezing mark.
Empty World
A stop in Boalsburg to look around. Honestly, I don’t know why. I’ve been here so many times, on the scooter, in a car and on foot with the dog. I don’t know what I’m hoping to see or how often I’ll stop to look before I say I’ve seen it all. But something tells me that isn’t going to happen.
You can never see it all.
A Dog’s Life
When I’m relishing slowness, I have a better, sharper, more satisfying appreciation of the world in which I travel. And I know if I were rushing by, I would see nothing and quickly tire of what I would convince myself is ordinary and boring. That would be a terrible thing.
My dog Junior lives the slow life I think. He appreciates the small things and finds excitement in the ordinary and familiar. He offers lessons on how to enjoy right now.
As I write this post he’s softly snoring at my feet. He’s seldom in a hurry and he pays attention to the moment. I don’t think he takes much for granted or tells himself he’s already seen this or done that.
If he weren’t a dog I would say he’s leading a spiritual life.
Wonderful Steve!! You put into words exactly how I feel when riding. It’s not unusual in the least for my right hand to ease up without my knowing it until I glance down and see I’m now UNDER the speed limit. A bit risky with the traffic here. I’m not blessed with your country roads.
Still, the same roads (busy or not) the same scenes, the same scents. They all take me back in time but also remind me that my highway of life grows shorter. Slow down Mike. Hurry – to where?
Thanks for your kind words. It’s good to know that others feel the same way about a slowing pace in riding and life. And that it’s a good thing and not some kind of personal failure. In a world striving for more and more, it seems counterintuitive to strive for less.
Steve-
I arrived at the “slow pace – place” accidentally, and was pleasantly surprised.
Currently ride a Kawasaki Concours 1400, the fourth in a series of sport tourers, along with a sport bike and dirt bike. 60 mile commute in Phoenix, AZ. A lot of rat racing in the mountains. Addicted to stupid amounts of horsepower.
Always wanted to try a sidecar – must have been the influence of The Great Escape movie and that McQueen guy. Picked up a 2001 Kawasaki W650 (looks like an old Triumph) with a Velorex sidecar. Entry level. If I didn’t like it = probably sell it for what I paid for it.
The pace is, how to say, relaxed? And I love it! I motor around at sunup to catch the scent of the morning air in the desert. Becoming an observer of landscaping. It’s also gotten me out of the hyper-psyche of the big bikes. It’s all about a little wind, like when I jumped on my first bicycle as a kid.
Finding the slow pace, accidentally or otherwise, can be an eye opening experience. Calls into question a lot of what I imagined to be true or desired in life for myself.
I’ve ridden a couple URALs and have not warmed much to the sidecar experience. I think it’s because of the rather mechanical experience as opposed to the more fluid feeling of a scooter or motorcycle. But a sidecar rig definitely has its advantages in some situations. Just not the right choice for me today.
Your description of your sunup rides is exactly the gift I find in riding. Well said!
Steve,
I guess the reason I enjoy you blog so much is we think so much alike.
When I first started my scooter adventures and long rides I started with a 150cc Vespa LX. My first ride was up US19 going north in rural Florida. I looked down and found I was only going about 45 mph and was surprised as I had the throttle against the stop. What I slowly realized was I as going up a very gradual incline and that was what was slowing me down. Concerned at first, I quickly embarrassed it and 50 mph became my speed. The next year riding the back roads of Georgia, riding along day dreaming on a perfect day, I began to think of a larger motor, but I quickly realized I would lose the moment if I was racing along at 65. I told myself that if I did buy a bigger motor I could control myself and still cruise at 50. I quickly realized that I was lying to myself as the main reason I ride a scooter is because I had “throttle creep disease”. Only years later after riding to the west coast over the mountains at 15 mph sometimes, I finally succumb to a larger motor. I have pretty much maintained the 50 mph rule if traffic permits or unless I am following “speedy” Leuthold.
Slower has always been better for me. Moments not miles is my mantra.
Racing along at 65mph robs, in my opinion, much of the experience of riding. Though I suppose it all depends on ones goals. A photographer friend tells me you see nothing past 35mph and I tend to agree with him. When I ride slowly, I see more, and am more inclined to stop and pull out the camera.
So strange to read you invoking route 19 in Florida. Route 19 was a route our family often was on in Pennsylvania. Kind of cool to think about non-Interstate roadways reaching across the country.
“Moments not Miles.” One of us should put that on a T-shirt!
That’s a nice installment Steve. Your life, what you notice about it, and then what you notice about the experience of noticing/seeing. That’s probably what is meant by “an examined life”.
“An examined life.” Yes, that might be it.
Amen to slowness Steve. 35-45mph seems to be my sweet spot, slowly cruising in the moment. Too bad the rest of the world seems to think otherwise and wants to hurry to the next.
They should make cars look more friendly. Maybe that would help.
The sweet spot of speed for riding is much the same for me. Perhaps even slower. But you’re right, the world in general isn’t much for slowing down. Everything seems to be hurried from traffic to eating to living in general. It’s nice to step off the merry-go-round.
Yes, I find myself going slower a lot as well… On those small country roads it’s even more like 25-30. Last Sunday I even had a hard time keeping up with a cyclist.
I’m grateful to have small country roads to ride on!
I’ve taken the slow life indoors for the winter. Light jazz from my echo on a quiet morning sets the tone for an unhurried day.
Winter definitely provides a stage for exploring the slow life. I wonder how many different ways there are to set a tone for an unhurried day?
You have put into words what I find myself unable to express. Thank you. I do notice the two motorcycles in the garage gathering dust while adding mileage to the scooters. Kymco People 150 @ 12 HP; Stella 2 stroke at 8 HP further slowed by a sidecar filled with camping gear or grandchildren.
So far I’ve managed to engage both the Vespa and the BMW though I suspect as the weather worsens (if it does) that the scooter will find the most use. It’s easy for me to understand the benefits of the smaller, lighter machines.
Good luck with your riding choices!
Very enjoyable …..I liked the fact that the only thing not at a cows pace was the “hasty” retreat from the cafe.
You caught me. Hasty is right. It’s odd, but I suddenly feel I have to get out. Must be some energy level is reached by a certain number of people, or perhaps a sound level. Was at Saint’s Cafe this morning and the same thing happened, suddenly I’m up and want to get out.
I didn’t run though!
Ahhh! The older I get the faster I was but the slower I go. Just about everything I do today has slowed down some. Am I just trying to slow the whole process down, turning back the clock and creating a little more headspace? More likely an effort to savour and enjoy the oh so many things taken for granted for so many years? How much longer might I be doing this, might I pass this way again, hmmm never stopped here before? Well done Steve, another bulls eye. BTW … Is that a X100 variant in the pic at the top of the page?
Yes, your path seems to run parallel to mine. Creating more headspace, that’s something I didn’t consider but sounds right. I think as I get older it makes sense to slow down and savor. I don’t need to keep striving for something, or pretending I’m younger. Sixty-five isn’t the new 55. It’s sixty-five and exactly where I’m supposed to be today.
The camera you see is a Fuji X100F. A wonderful camera.
I wondered which edition X100. I acquired an F a year or so ago and I am enjoying it immensely. I sometimes sit quietly and move rings and dials about with no intention of taking a photo.
The Fuji X100F is a great camera. I’ve really warmed to it and take it with me almost everywhere. I don’t take in on the scooter though. The zoom lens on the Canon G15 is useful for the kinds of photographs I make on the road.
I appreciate your words and your art. More than appreciate, but if I go beyond “appreciate” it sort of sounds kind of creepy and I don’t think either of us need that. I guess tho’ I could also say “Thanks Steve, reading your posts makes me feel like I’m looking into kind of a fun-house mirror and….” no, no…that doesn’t work.
Thanks man. You do a great job.
Thanks for your kind words of support Fred. I’m glad you find something useful in the things I share. Makes me feel my experiences aren’t so odd or strange when others connect with them.
That photo of my bathroom window on my laptop display looks pretty good. I won some kind of prize on your blog and i’m supposed an icon by my name (I think) now.
A prize? What’s that about??
There are moments when I completely enjoy the slowness. I probably should take more time to slow down. When I do I feel refreshed. Thanks for the reflection.
Going slow I’ve discovered is a luxury. And one often ignored by some, and highly prized by others. I’m in the latter category…
It’s funny; the whole reason I love riding a scooter is so I can be outside taking everything in, the fresh air, the scenery, the beauty of the ride. I loathe highway speeds on a scooter. First, it makes me nervous even though my BV can more than handle it, but moreso, it defeats the very purpose I carry as my raison d’etre for riding in the first place. I commute to work in NYC from NJ and people often say, “oh god, that sounds horrible.” I love it. I don’t even mind the stop and go on the George Washington Bridge during the morning commute. I get to look over at the skyline even longer. I appreciate the small joys afforded to me. -And on nicer days (warm, sunny), to be able to take a long weekend ride in the backroads and hills of NJ, just to enjoy enjoying. What could be better than that? Thanks for this post. Hit home and put in words what I have often felt.
Your description of your experience traveling slowly on the scooter are exactly parallel to mine. And like you, even when I’m moving through stop and go traffic, I get to see so much. Far more than I can in a car.
Be well and ride safe!
At last…kindred spirit(s). I apologise for taking so long to find you and other likeminded readers! Clearly of a similar age as you I have been “on” two wheels for years on and off, and have found my way, almost inevitably it seems, to The Vespa. Traffic here in the UK is such that sometimes you have to work harder to find quietness on the carriageway, and there seem to be rather few “inter -town”, greater distance, scooter riders so I spend much time “solo” anyway. I, too, ride four seasons… and love it. My county, Lincolnshire, is often described as flat as a pancake , but the vistas are splendid, especially in the Fens, my homeland and repay pottering about.
Looking forward to reading more. Good health. I retired early two decades ago, following cardiac issues, and have melded slowness into everyday life as well as on two wheels!
I’m glad you stumbled here Christopher. It’s always good to have multiple voices talking about the paths we’re on.
I came to the Vespa accidentally. It was not on my radar at all until a friend let me ride his. To that point in time, I was focused on getting a motorcycle. And like you, I have become more and more aware of the landscapes around me throughout the year.
Hope your ongoing retirement provides the means and opportunity to ride and find the rewards of a slow and deliberate life!
I have “done” motorcycles in my earlier days. Now other folks on the road expect to be able to, nay insist ,as though proving a point over the old geezer on the scooter, to pass at high speed. My safe limit – to avoid over-mind- wandering- is maximum, but mostly sub, 50mph riding. I usually come up to the end of the speeders’ queue and putter past to the front. Quiet satisfaction, one nil to the tortoise.
Regards
While my speed range on the Vespa probably closely mirrors yours with mostly sub-50mph travel, I don’t have the same vehicle traffic you have. And there’s no lane splitting here for scooters and motorcycles so when I come up to the end of the speeders queue I get no satisfaction.
I happily remain the tortoise. Even on the BMW motorcycle!