Almost two months have passed since my last post to Scooter in the Sticks. Finally, I’ve emerged from gray into the light.
From time to time, I find myself wandering in a world of doubt, fear, and uncertainty, and everything becomes gray. At first, I blamed the nagging pandemic and how it affected my life yet a close inspection revealed little change in my daily life. I’ve been riding my Vespa scooter and BMW motorcycle throughout the summer and into the fall with little concern for what’s happening in the world, pandemic or otherwise. Still, there is the familiar, comforting rush being on two wheels, my spirit vibrating with excitement and a stupid smile across my face that surely speaks of lunacy.
Yet when I sit down to write about those experiences I quickly descend into a gray abyss where ideas, thoughts, feelings, and memory evaporate. I face a blank wall. It’s an unsettling landscape without a roadmap or destination. After a while, I’m left wondering if I will ever emerge from gray into the light.
Without explanation, I wake to find myself standing in the light with something to write.
And there it is, my Vespa GTS scooter on a narrow road leading through Rothrock State Forest on a foggy morning. The small tires moved smoothly along the gravel, the air full of moisture with the fragrance of leaves, and the feeling of being alive life filled me as I moved through nowhere to nowhere. I remember that morning now and how it felt to be in the world.
For a while, I wondered if the desire to write had left me. Numerous rides during the past four months along with many photographs had not triggered a need to write. My mind was wandering elsewhere. My body was engaged elsewhere. Perhaps it was the end.
And then I emerged from gray into the light.
Dense Fog
Lest you think I descend into some hopeless romanticism while riding I was keenly aware of the dangers coupled with riding in fog. I pulled into a turn-off for heavy trucks to assess whether I should continue on into the mountains. Visibility was poor. I could see perhaps 150 feet. Car headlights are a bit further. But with the sporadic traffic traveling as if there was no fog it seemed the prudent choice was to head back out of the mountains toward the relative safety of a soft mist in the valley.
I think there was a time years ago that I would have continued on, embracing a challenge and internal competition to see how well I can hurl myself against the elements. It explains a lot about the riding I’ve done in the past in snow, ice, and cold.
But now there is a meager desire to tempt fate.
Wet and Lovely
Round and round through the agricultural valleys, I can ride. Time on the Vespa scooter is similar to walking in the woods. A steady feeling of movement develops where I swear I can feel my blood pressure drop, my heart assumes a slow, comfortable beat, and my breathing takes on a rhythm that floods my blood and brain with oxygen. And at that point, whatever noise and chaos I’ve been carrying is tossed aside and I find my spirit flying forth from the gray and into the light.
The summer has been wet. And lovely. Rides on scooter and motorcycle; walks with cameras in the woods; and time spent watching the clouds and rain from my window have filled much of my experience. On this morning I was content to experience it on two wheels, if only for a short time because biology interfered with the moving meditation as my stomach cried out for breakfast.
Dreams, Daydreams, and Food
As so often happens, my machines find their way to the Pump Station Cafe. Of course, I do nothing to stand in their way. The pandemic has (until recently) changed how I embrace my desire to stop and eat. I enjoy the chance to sit in a corner of a cafe and watch people, eavesdrop on conversations, and assess the world I’m in. Food is secondary to some degree.
Stopping at the Pump Station has been easy. Warm weather and outdoor seating have made it simple. And a surprising number of places have had similar choices. And more recently I’ve been comfortable going inside and eating when a place is relatively empty. Being fully vaccinated along with a booster has helped yet having a compromised immune system due to a drug I have to take adds a wrinkle of risk that clouds the rare decisions to eat indoors.
But thankfully I have emerged from gray and into the light and feel like writing again. Writing has always been a powerful tool for me to process the mental, emotional, and spiritual chaos. I feel better already! GRIN
More rides to write about…
I am in the Seattle area and feel the same. When the sun shines I am in the saddle and heading for places unknown, When the fog and rain come then I just hide in the darkness till things clear up.
The weather can have a dramatic effect on my desire to ride, especially as I get older. My range of temperature certainly has constricted. Sub-zero riding is now off the table I think!
Oh how I agree. After my husband died it was riding my GTS that helped me cope. I felt the lowering of adrenaline, the heartbeat tuneing into the rythme of riding – leaving the grey on the way to something where light has a place. Thank you for offering me your words to express what I felt :-).
I’m sorry for your loss. I can see how riding your GTS might help. Being on the scooter and out in the world has definitely helped me clear my mind of things that were heavy and a struggle to carry.
Thank you for sharing today. Be well and ride safe!
Good morning Steve. It is good to hear from you again and hear about your recent journeys on your Vespa. I have been trying to get out on my Vespa more often. It is always a pleasure especially when it would appear that I am the only one on the road that I use for pleasure. Have a great week.
I don’t think I’m every satisfied with how much I ride. At least I can’t remember a time when I’ve said to myself, “Man, that’s too much riding.” As you say, it continues to be a pleasure, especially around here with lightly traveled roads and the common feeling that I am the only one here…
So very good to read you again Steve.
I have always marvelled at you prolificness and the quality of your insights.
I figured a break was needed and that you would surface again to the delight of all.
There is no question in my mind that Covid has changed the emotional landscape for many of us.
How could it not .
Your decision to leave the fog blanketed mountains in favour of greater visibility,
is a call I would not have made five years ago but definitely would today.
Having dipped into my seventies, I find myself now riding like I still want to be riding in my late eighties.
Stay well Steve.
Read you soon.
Thank you Terry.
For a long time I’ve had many thoughts and ideas accumulate while riding and writing them down was relatively easy. I still have many ideas but they have become more inward looking and often kind of depressing. That may account for some of my reluctance to write. And part was I just needed a little vacation. We’ll see what happens in the coming weeks and if I sit down to write more often.
Making more reasonable choices regarding riding in adverse weather conditions is a skill I’ve also picked up in the past five years. Partly I don’t have anything to prove to myself, partly I’m not worry about having fodder for some “exciting” blog post, but mostly because I want to avoid any accident that I would chalk up to foolish behavior on my part.
I was recently talking to a fellow that finally retired his Harley at age 75. Too big and too hard to handle he said. I suggested a scooter and he said he had thought about it but after a lifetime in the Harley landscape he could not imagine it. Hopefully I’ll remain to willing to keep riding right down to a four-wheeled, battery powered mobility scooter! I understand they have a 15 mile range.
With that attitude you will do well in older age Steve. My wife is 85 and with her bad feet is using a 4 wheel mobility scooter to get around these days. In the past she has had 2 motorcycles and 2 Goldwing trikes and has ridden in the Western US and the western part of Canada (all of that starting at age 59 when she retired). Even though I still get around just fine, I bought myself a mobility scooter so we can continue to ride together.
Thank you for sharing that Jim. I hope I can follow your example when circumstance or age introduces me to an opportunity to make new choices. Nothing worse than telling myself I have no choices.
Have fun on your new scooters!
Steve, your descriptions of “writer’s block” (for lack of a better term) resonate with my experience with making art over a similar stretch of time. Not only have I struggled to make any art since Covid and politics (among others) began to affect my head space, my desire to do so has been next to zero. Perhaps not coincidentally – I’ve also been engaged in a period of personal transformation – the way I see the world has been in upheaval and this has affected my relationships and desire to engage…or not.
I don’t have any explanation for what is happening, but I am comforted when I look back and see other periods of life when I’ve experienced this “artist’s block,“ for it has often simply been a kind of spiritual winter that is much needed and will eventually give way to spring. Seeing it as a recurring season has helped me, as I can often feel guilty (which is ridiculous) for not creating something regularly. It’s as if my self-worth is somehow tied to creating stuff, which is an unnecessary burden to be sure.
The same may or may not be true for you, but regardless I greatly appreciate your post and the lessons and reminders it holds for me.
Covid and politics. Ugh. Such noise and insanity. I work hard to keep it all at arm’s length but it still creeps in. It must have an effect on me.
I think you’re right about a spiritual winter giving way to spring. Not exactly sure how that comes to pass but I have faith it will. I completely understand the connection of self-worth with creative output. While I don’t want to become lazy and indifferent, it is a poor yardstick to measure with.
Thanks for taking the time to share your thoughts Andy. I keep thinking that I should reach out to arrange a ride or meeting. But I’ve been on vacation!
Steve, I would welcome a ride with you anytime–just as soon as you return from vacation! We could even try and convince Ruby to join in the shenanigans.
Sounds like a plan. I’ll be in touch.
Nice journaling Steve, That’s what I hear when I read read your words. Your expressions are good.
I actually thought of you this morning. I was up 5 this morning getting ready to gather eleven tables that were scattered on fifty miles course from Tussy Mt. Run. That took place yesterday. A close friend help me, stop & load up a table and move on, from Tussy, Whipples, Alan Seger, Greenwood furnace, Penn Roosevelt, to Colyer lake, to Bear meadows, back to Tussy. Steve next year let’s you & I take a spin in the woods & take in the beauty of talk.
I was just telling stories about you Mike when Luke was here to service our split system. Small world.
The areas of Rothrock you describe are beautiful. I ride through those areas often on the scooter. So much that I find myself thinking I should get a dirt bike.
I’ll reach out soon.
While you were gone I attended the Americade Rally in Lake George, New York. Attendance was down some with a mere 40k in the area over the five days. I was invited several times by my long time friend and Best Man Marc. His two sons were also along and it made for a smiling good time.
I wanted to do it on the Helix clone but it was down with shattered swing arm bearings awaiting it’s turn at the local bike shop. The 750 Kawasaki became the bike of choice and despite its advanced age it ate up miles on the Thruway with ease returning 47 mpg from its four ancient carburetors. Despite being at the end of September the weather was summer like in the mid to upper seventies while we were there.
Relative to this tome we experienced fog on the Thruway north of Albany. I was at the tail end of the pack watching if my friends to hit the brakes or suddenly moved giving me extra time to react. It was a mystical end to a great trip. Being around a massive group of fellow motorcyclists is something I haven’t done in decades. I’m looking forward to doing it next year.
It’s nice to feel connected to something like the Americade Rally. A large group of like-minded people. I seldom do things like that anymore, in part due to the pandemic, in part due to my natural tendency to isolate from others. I’m glad you had the opportunity to take the trip.
My K75 is almost 30 years old. It runs perfectly but I find myself wondering if and when that might now be the case. The mechanics who service it say to ride it like it was new and that’s what I’ve done. I hope it lasts a long time.
My Kawasaki pre dates your BMW by 9 years, a 1983. I was riding with a new Indian Chief, a 2015 Victory Cross and an “Ancient” 2008 Yamaha FZ-1. The Kawasaki has 44,000 miles but is faded, dusty and a little rusty and ready for more. Plus most of the bike is metal, fenders and all. It was also built in an era of disposable motorcycles. Nobody disposes of a BMW. I saw several BMWs from the 1970s at Americade running like new. The way you maintain your bike it will outlive both of us.
The K75 is in excellent shape with just shy of 20K miles on it. It will definitely last as long as I can ride.
Sounds like you’re having fun on your Kawasaki!
I like the scooter in the fog photos best. I can imagine standing there quietly with the camera in the fog.
It was a quiet place. Until a car flew by at 50mph, emerging suddenly from the fog. There was no way I could travel at that speed and see anything. Visor clouded up immediately and when I opened it up my glasses did. I headed down the mountain and below the clouds.
When I worked for the DoD we called it “the FUD Factor, (fear, uncertainty, doubt); closely related to “analysis paralysis”. Usually by not having specific, measurable, relatable goals. Seems bound to happen with hobbies/pastimes that are not critical. Just enjoy the ride.
The FUD Factor. I like that.
When it comes to riding, writing, photography, and blogging I don’t follow any specific, measurable, or relatable goals. While none of it is critical, at least not in the sense of critical the DoD would define, it’s all important to me. The entire process is a way to investigate and understand what’s going on with myself. The more I think about it, the more important it becomes. I’ve never considered it a hobby or pastime as I define those, but it’s not a job either. With great hesitation I might call it a part of a spiritual practice. But I’m not ready, or able to dive much deeper at this point.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts. They were helpful to me.
I too, enjoy riding in the fog! I know it’s probably not my best decision, but I really enjoy it.
Fog requires a bit of skill, sound judgment, and good choices of where to ride. I would not want to commute with serious traffic or find myself in fog on an interstate highway.
Like you, my blog has been silent and still. Videos… absent.
In my case, I think it’s a combination of isolation and insulation. Our lives with the pandemic revolve around precaution and the calculus of risk. It makes it easier to retreat, desirable even. Writing a blog and producing videos is the opposite of isolation and insulation. You put yourself out there, appealing to an audience. Even though the audience is virtual, and poses no risk, I think that reaching out is just contrary to the dominant desire to hibernate and lurk safely in the shadows.
Combine that mood with home-office busy-ness, of which there has been no shortage, and… there is no reaching out, no blogging, no vlogging.
I miss the creativity, but rather like a hibernating bear misses foraging for berries… not quite enough to venture out of the den.
You’ve been silent a lot longer than I have David. I figured you were bouncing from Brompton to court cases with little time for diversions like riding and making videos.
Isolation and insulation, familiar territory for me as well. And as you say, the retreat away from the world has had its rewards.
I missed the creative process, enough I suppose to write one more post. Time will tell what happens next.
Steve,
it’s alway good to read your posts on what’s going on in your life.
My land yacht has been good for what ails me.
I’ve been riding more and watching less TV.
The political work is going crazy and I refuse to let it take me a long for there ride.
Keep writing and riding and remember, I would love ta buy ya a cup-a-jo when ever you are in town.
Thanks Billy. I seldom get into town anymore so I don’t see the land yacht as often as I used to. I’ve been doing the opposite, watching more TV and riding less. Oh well, seasons change.
You’re right about the crazy in regard to politics. I keep it all as far away as possible. Ugh. It’s just terrible.
I’ll darken your doorway one of these days!
“ I was recently talking to a fellow that finally retired his Harley at age 75. Too big and too hard to handle he said. I suggested a scooter and he said he had thought about it but after a lifetime in the Harley landscape he could not imagine it”
I worry some about this dynamic and like to think that the software is key and not so much the hardware. I have entered that stage in my riding trajectory where lighter has become righter. I hope to happily navigate these waters moving from bigger to more manageable irrespective of marque or genre but keeping to the spirt of the ride. As for fog and indiscernible road surface condition, age has tempered my enthusiasm for tempting fate. Do enjoy long walks in the fog though. Thanks for another thoughtful post Steve and may you long continue to ride in and out of the fog.
Yeah, there’s definitely a mental state in play in regard to riding as I get older. I just try to be honest with my physical capabilities and skill level. At some point soon I suspect the lighter will become righter. I definitely don’t see myself riding any 800 or 900-pound motorcycles anymore.
And tempting fate is a bigger concern now for me as well. Each winter I re-evaluate my limits.
I’ll keep riding and writing as I figure out things.
Well Mr Steve, what ever is buzzing in your mind. The fact that you or on your scooter and moving form grey to light is marvellous. Yes trying to drop all the static of covid and politics is a tough act. But hey your back! Lovely to read your kind and gently thought’s.
Be well, from Danny in South Africa.
Thank you Danny. It does feel good to emerge again into the world. I just finished a few minutes reading the NY Times and it was enough of politics, ethics, and the environment to make me run away.
I’m about to sit down and write another blog essay. For me, that’s a positive step.
Wow!what an outpouring of care and respect for your writings. Nothing I can say will top their replies.Peace and safety from N.H.
Thank you John. I enjoy writing about my experiences and thoughts on the scooter and motorcycle. I’m glad others find some value in the things I post.