The Nature of Vespa Scooter Riding
I have nothing to say.
Nothing to write.
My mind is so dazzlingly clear and calm that there seems little need to ride. I’m a morning person. At least that’s what I tell myself. Energy and initiative are in good supply at the beginning of the day. Everything seems calm and well ordered. And despite all this seemingly good news, I still feel drawn towards the road.
Standing alongside a familiar rural road at the end of the day I could feel the flutter of excitement that comes with riding. Thoughts of riding into the night, on towards an unknown destination coursed through me. The Vespa scooter stood there waiting.
It was a fine way to reframe the day, unwind a life.
Solace for the Restless Spirit
The Vespa scooter occupies my thoughts and imagination. I can weigh how well I’m doing by the amount of thought consumed by that silver machine. The more I find myself dreaming of riding, the more likely it is that the business of living is starting to pile up. That sort of flies in the face of thinking all is well.
Riding is a simple act. I need only stand up, walk to the garage, and head down the road on the Vespa scooter. Unfortunately circumstances have colluded to make such things more difficult.
But standing alone looking at the scooter, gazing into the sunset sky, I can only smile as I consider the possibilities. However unlikely or difficult they may be.
For me, the “most energized” time of day can vary with the week. This might be simply a side-effect of having lived the freelance life for so damned long, with its sheer lack of regimentation, which is sometimes good and more than occasionally irritating. Since over half my riding-time is work-related, most of that happens in the morning: assuming a decent night’s sleep, those early rides can be quite invigorating. My return trips are usually after sundown, and provided it’s not too chilly out, and once I’ve gotten beyond the chaos of the city proper, the remaining highway miles can be fast but relatively relaxing. I can say with confidence that as long as my dear Melody is running okay, I never have a bad time riding.
The character of my riding has changed over the years. Age and circumstance largely in control. I bring the the machine a natural temperament which dictates when my energy is at its peak. That doesn’t seem to vary regardless of what’s going on around me. When I was working as a photographer I experienced the lack of regimentation to which you refer. Part of me relished the unpredictability and part of me found it irritating at times as well.
Riding now, some years after retirement, is different. I’m only now trying to wrap my head around it. But like you, regardless of when I manage to get on the road, it’s never a bad time!
For nothing to say and nothing to write you wrote a lot and said a lot. As a morning person sitting here with my fire and my coffee your thoughts and words have me in my mind riding my scooter. Mentally only as it is raining.
The piece was one of those sudden vomiting of words on the page Ken. Something was bothering me and I just had to purge. I’m glad it wasn’t too ugly…
Well, I sort of agree with Lostboater in the sense that a lot was written for having nothing to write about but I dont agree that a lot was said.lol. It just seems like some rambling for the sake of using digital ink. What I get from this–written thought is that the Vespa is a means to an end. In my case, the Forza is a means to an end. That end being the opportunity to ponder about whatever while riding on a scooter not really caring what others think. That is what I get from your having nothing to say and writing about it:)
I am so relaxed, even my writing skills are “suspect”. I think I was thinking french and writing in English lol
I remember my mother once told me she used to think in German. And then one day after she lived in the US for 20 years she started thinking in English. After she died and I saw her journals they switched from German to English about that time. Weird how things work.
I’m surprised anyone got anything from what I wrote. As I replied to Ken, I sort of just purged the thoughts from my troubled mind.
The Vespa is a means to an end. Unfortunately for me, the ends keep moving!
well truth be told, life is about the ends that keep moving… Live on!!
Yes sir. Be well!
I love being part of your virtual riding crew.
That said, my Vespa hasn’t ventured anywhere.
I have to deliver some stuff downtown, and that will be the next trip. Maybe tomorrow.
I hope you find your way into the world on the Vespa. Not everything can be Brompton!
Steve, forgive me if my following observations do not apply to you or your post. I might be projecting my experience on to yours.
I interpreted the first section as “those things I tell myself.” I am happy, content, thinking clearly, everything is fine… But beneath the surface is something unsettled. And it grows undetected, until…
The second section: I recognize that my thoughts have been pulling me elsewhere. It is when I recognize this is happening that my denial of some kind of discomfort or pain or mundanity is at play.
A ride on the Vespa is a wonderful outlet to briefly ponder these concerns (or a temporary escape from them), but as you mentioned, circumstances don’t always allow for it.
If any of this makes sense and applies to you, my hope is that you will be able to find another outlet that works its own magic.
And if this does apply to you, know that you aren’t alone in that feeling. Our circumstances are indeed different, but I can empathize with that feeling.
I think you’ve captured where I was going. There always seems to be something simmering beneath the surface regardless of how bright and cheerful I might seem. It’s alway best for me to be aware and take stock of it.
Denial is a wonderful thing. A fuzzy Band-Aid to make everything better. Problem is the adhesive sucks and it keeps coming loose. And then the wound is open. Best to just deal with the discomfort and pain has been my experience.
The Vespa, more often than not, is like a big eraser. It just wipes everything away and leaves me with a clearer place to deal with whatever is bugging me. Photography works that way too. If I have enough time to really engage the process.
Hope all is well with you.