Vespa Riding
Mornings are the quiet landscape on which my mind wanders the concerns of the day. Looking into the tops of our 70-foot tall fir trees I can see more dying from a blight that slowly kills off the needles leaving stands of naked trees that must be removed. In the past two years, I’ve spent enough removing trees to buy two brand new Vespa GTS scooter. The next two years promise the same.
Sitting in the garden while the dogs play, before departing for a ride on the Vespa, I’m feeling the grip of the heat on body and spirit. That grip is more restrictive than the pandemic which is quite simple to manage in comparison through social distancing, wearing a mask, avoiding crowds, and washing my hands. But heat is different. It drains me physically which in turn drains my psychological energy which leads to doing nothing.
I’ve relied on Vespa riding to infuse me with energy. But I confess a growing reluctance to venture out when the forecast promises temperatures approaching 90F and beyond.
Still, the Vespa in the morning light is enough to get me moving. I’ve made this same picture dozens of times, a visual notation of the beginning of another adventure.
Vespa Riding on Dirt and Gravel Roads
I’ve found myself on this strip of gravel as a result of a message the night before from my friend Paul Ruby:
“I think I’d like to air out the Honda. Have any dirt/gravel roads you’d like to ride on today?”
Dirt and gravel roads. Not something that immediately brings up images of Vespa riding.
I replied:
“Too hot for me. It’s already sweltering and seems like the same for a week. No wonder I don’t ride much in the summer.”
But I had a change of heart and we departed early in the morning before it got too hot.
It was a good choice as the temperature remained cool in the shade of the forest canopy and the loose gravel wasn’t so bad if you stuck to the thin tracks of dirt. And we were rewarded with the sight of a half dozen deer bounding across the road and one large black bear as well.
Vespa Versus Dirt Bike
Perhaps the scooter suspension is getting old. Or maybe it’s the discs in my spine wearing out but the rides off the pavement feel a lot rougher than they used to. Paul has a definite advantage with his Honda CRF250L motorcycle with it’s beefier suspension, larger wheels, and more aggressive tread on the tires. Even so, he doesn’t seem to ride any faster than I do.
Perhaps we’ve developed some sort of rider symbiosis.
This photograph is misleading in that it doesn’t provide a feel for the steepness of the road.
The Appalachian Mountains
I’m grateful to be within walking distance of the Appalachian Mountains. A mysterious beauty still holds me after so many years of walking, hiking, riding, and driving through them. Especially in those places that open a world before me.
This kind of scene reminds me of how small I am in the world. It’s helpful for me to be humbled before nature. Especially when it’s serene.
I was glad Paul pushed me to ride.
Revelation
When the road opens at the top of a mountain like this I feel a revelation visually, and inside as my spirit swells and becomes glad. Glad to be Vespa riding, glad to be with a friend, glad to be alive.
The stop here allowed time to look around, drink some water, and wish I could ride to the far horizon. But already it was hot. The trip down the mountain on the Vespa would be slow due to the increasing amount of loose gravel. And it’s in this situation you realize there’s no engine braking available to slow the descent leaving control solely to the brakes. The rear brake to be precise since any misstep with the front one could put the scooter on the ground.
Social Distancing
Riding seems the perfect activity for me to achieve social distancing. It’s easy to not breath the same air as another person. As the number of COVID-19 infections starts to grow again in this part of Pennsylvania and hospitalizations grow, I’ll have to keep a sharp eye on when it might become too great a risk to ride and potentially have an accident that could add a burden to the hospital system. That concern put Vespa riding on hiatus back in March and April. Time will tell if history will repeat itself.
Paul and I keep our distance during stops. Close enough to talk. Far enough apart that there’s no risk of infection if one or the other is infected. What a strange world we live in now. There are days I wish I could believe that it’s all a hoax and that it’s not even as dangerous as the common flu. Not sure I could achieve that state of mind without drugs. Or a massive infusion of fear.
The heat did get to me on this summit and our ride became a journey towards home. Even so, it was great to get out and embrace the world. Even on this hot day.
While I (somewhat) patiently await the repair of my dear Melody (hopefully this week…at least the necessary bits are available stateside), I’ve been contemplating the numerous ways the bike has been beneficial to me, particularly during this Serious Unpleasantness we’re all enduring. And that list of ways has been substantial: I’ve been commuting from home to NYC roughly twice a week, and the travel time the bike has saved me is astounding: via public transport, I spend upwards of six hours a day just traveling, and that’s on a trouble-free day; on Melody, that gets cut by more than half. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ll take those saved three hours any and every day that ends with “y.”
But then there’s the experience: in another old post I’ve already mentioned that famous bumper sticker that says “A bad day fishing beats a good day at work.” Commuting via motorcycle or scooter versus public trasnsport pretty much fits that description as well. Then there’s the matter of reliability: while Melody failed on me two Saturdays ago (in one of the worst spots to fail, at the approach to a bridge on the New Jersey Turnpike), I’ll take that inconvenience over what happened to me this past Saturday taking NJ Transit into Gotham, where my connecting train from Long Branch, NJ (meeting my train from Asbury) was suddenly cancelled due to, get this, “engineer availability.” Or, to be straight about it, lack thereof. KO’d my day, and for a brief moment I was livid. I’ve never taken my Vespa for granted, but I’ll be ever more thankful for having it once it’s back in my hands.
And, again, a great article. I need to get out on some of those lovely roads you’ve got there, but I might pass on the gnarlier gravel pathways.
Six hours a day commuting. I can’t imagine it. Sometimes I would get frustrated if my commute lasted 15 minutes. I guess a person can adapt to pretty much anything if they believe it’s to their advantage. That human quality could illuminate the trouble with masks during the pandemic.
As much as I’ve enjoyed visiting cities, I’ve never considered living in one. And that was long before a pandemic would create issues surrounding “Engineer Availability.” My desire to be alone is too strong to spend much time with so many people around. I’m not sure if I’m programmed this way or slowly developed these traits because of where I live. Regardless, it’s who I am at this point in my life.
I hope you get your scooter back together and you find life tolerable even on those bad fishing days!
I tend to go really really slow (like turtle slow) as it feels like the vibrations and stones will kill the vespa 😀 I feel like I could go quite a bit faster but not sure the bike would like it? Just don’t want to hurt the thing too much.
You are right – riding in heat is not fun. Up to 25 degrees celsius is fine with me… anything above, meh.
I just came back from a 2-day 400 km solo camping trip through the Ardennes and I already want to hop on again.
The Appalachians look like awesome riding territory.
Looks like my post got mangled… It was supposed to start with ‘How fast do you go on gravel and pothole-rich roads?’ 🙂
I’ll answer the question in your other comment first concerning speed. I travel slowly on gravel roads, mainly to not fall down and not so much that I’m worried about the scooter. On this ride I was in the 25 to 45 kilometer per hour range most of the time. The one possible exception would be going down the mountain — there were a few sharp turns and steep areas where I dropped down.
I’ve been on some rocky roads where I literally was traveling at less than walking speed just so I could navigate the boulders. And on some hard pack gravel roads, I can zip along at 65KPH if needed. But usually, I’m going slow so I can take in the scenery.
A camping trip through Ardennes sounds like a wonderful trip. I confess that most of my reference to that area come through references to combat and war. The local war memorial shows dozens of tombstones of men who fell there in World War I.
The Appalachians are a great place to ride. I’ve barely scratched the surface.
45kph… myeah maybe without potholes 🙂 Some roads had so many potholes and cracks from bad winters you just had to constantly zigzag through them. I think I barely went 25. Can’t imagine the scooter being happy if I’d gone any faster. My mirror has come loose a few times on bad roads, I’ll need to do some adjustments to tighten it a bit better.
The forest service maintains most of the roads pretty well. Unless we have a lot of spring snow melt the roads stay smooth. If not, then potholes and washboard is common which means slower speeds.
I ride at speeds that are comfortable and meet my needs. Turtle slow is common. I’m in no hurry, not pushing and want to look around.
You must have some rough stuff to loosen the mirrors. I’ve not had that happen.
Yeah same. It took me about 8 hours to cover 210 km on a day. Lots of small, slow back roads, picture stops, … Saw many other motorcycles but mostly on the bigger roads going way too fast for my liking.
Thinking about other riders going fast…. Perhaps that’s the ride that’s best for them. I try to ride in a manner that works for me. And usually, it’s slow. Often much slower than the speed limits posted. Fortunately traffic is often sparse. And my ego easily allows me to pull aside to let others pass. I don’t like feeling pressured to go faster.
I’m glad your parts are available. Poor Scooter will be waiting for months for parts for his Liberty. The parts chain is the weakest link in the Piaggio owner experience from what I have seen. I hope I’m wrong for his sake.
I’ve never had any issues getting parts. With the local dealer I did, but Scooterwest.com always had what I needed.
Steve, your photo of the Appalachian Mountains is awesome!
Thanks Andy. Hard to miss with a scene like that. The photograph prompted me to buy a new scooter camera. The dust on the sensor was just getting to hard to retouch. You can see my clumsy attempts in that image. So I’m retiring the Canon G15 and will now be using a Canon M50.
You are so fortunate to have shady roads so nearby.
It is downright sweltering here in the foothills of NC…heat index to be 105 degrees today. Such weather reminds me why I sold my KLR. I live in an urban area, with all roads being asphalt. The asphalt holds the heat, so stopping at traffic signals among dozens of other vehicles is nothing short of misery, especially if one is wearing any sort of protective gear.
Beautiful days make bike ownership seductive again, but not this weather, and not those cold damp winter days either. For me, I have to balance actual good riding days with keeping a bike maintained through long periods where riding is just not for me. So far, not buying another bike has won out, but I always hope I’ll get weak again…
I understand completely Steel. It seems my weather tolerance gets smaller and smaller. I can ease into the cold but it has been more difficult. And now the warm weather is growing more difficult. Before long I’ll be in the 35F to 75F realm. Still a lot of days but not nearly as many as when I could tolerate -15F to 105F.
As my father always says, it’s hell to get old.
Thinking about buying another bike… you never know what tomorrow will bring.
I really like the Appalachian Mtn picture with the haze. It does look warm though… I do miss riding but not when it’s really hot.
A lot of ozone in that scene. I forgot to check the air quality index but we often get some pretty bad air. Ozone particularly.
I do love the mountains though!
Magnificent Vespa? Hmm. I’ll bounce it off them in Group Wednesday and get back to you on that. Did I tell you I was thinking how riding slow can be like meditation? Because I was practicing riding at a pace that my breathing and the life in the surrounding trees and the bear established. There is a precise speed through the trees and on the gravel where I can get into the zone. I think it’s its in second gear I’m not sure. But I could feel my arms get relaxed and the sound of the wind and the engine and me became one (without trying). In summary!: I feel peace when I riding pretty slowly in harmony with the universe. That is not possible for me on the interstate with a destination and a time in mind. It’s a more of a letting go kind of ride than a let’s get to the diner as fast as possible. Although I like the diners too. Pretty much I wouldn’t do much of any of that if you and I hadn’t done it together. I really need the guidance that way. Pax Vobiscum. Pablo Neruby.
Magnificent Vespa? Did I really write that? I had to go back and check and sure enough there it was in a caption. I suppose I’m still moved by the joy I derive from that machine.
Riding slow is a challenge. Something many, if not most, riders never even consider. Thinking about your comment on breathing, I find I match speed and movement in the winter so my breathing is calm and the visor does not fog. Definitely a form of meditation in which I attempt to control my body.
I suppose I miss riding to breakfast. There was something relaxing about the ride and the meal. I don’t see that happening again for a long time.
Until then, there are other ways to eat and drink on the road. Just takes a bit more planning.
That’s what I was thinking. Lets take advantage of the situation Covid19 provides. We can take bagged lunches to any number of pretty and peaceful places. Like that picnic table near the power lines that day or Wycof Run or Marian Brooks, Bilgers Rocks. Or do you not want to go that far or that long?
Sounds like a good plan. There are plenty of nice places to work into a ride where we can sit down and eat.
On the one hand, I love reading your work and seeing your pictures. On the other hand, it makes me miss my Kymco 300i more and more. It’s in a shop because the cable securing the seat will not unlock, which prevents me from re-installing the battery. *Sigh* I seem not to have any rapport with machines. I miss the rides, but hopefully soon I’ll be able to enjoy my own local hills.
Hopefully, you’ll soon be reunited with your scooter and exploring the local hills. I marvel at riders who seem to be able to overhaul an engine on the side of the road. I want to be like that. I don’t want to invest the time and energy to become like that. So I continue to surrender my machines to mechanics and shops when service is required.