Morning Chaos
These photographs and reflections are from a ride I made this past September 2021.
There is a short time interval between the calm and quiet of waking in the morning and the sudden jolt of frenetic chores, tasks, and running around. If I manage an hour of quiet time I feel blessed. And as the day continues to unfold and the chaos increases I find myself frustrated by what seems to be biological programming to shut down and do nothing. And it’s in those moments I think, “I need to go for a ride.”
It’s that thought that often has me dropping everything and heading out the door to save my soul. I let the Vespa do the heavy lifting.
Heavy Lifting
What is it about a Vespa scooter ride that has the power to change the way I think and feel?
It is, after all, just a machine. But riding on it does seem to give me permission to let go of all the things I’ve made important as if attending to them is a matter of life and death. And then suddenly I’m standing in the woods, looking at a muddy puddle, and feeling lighter than I could believe possible, all because I decided I need to go for a ride.
Astride the Vespa I’m able to shed the skin of my ego, a difficult task normally, but not while riding. And suddenly I feel comfortable, at home in the world. And when I open my eyes I can sense the spiritual nature of the landscape. At first inside me. And then with a camera.
That Frenetic Pace
I can’t control the world or the people in it. I can only control the choices I make myself. And when things get hectic I can feel like I’m the victim of circumstance, society, and life. That can be a heavy load to release, one that demands awareness, patience, and accepting the reality in front of me rather than clinging to thoughts of what it is supposed to be. But when I release my grip I am able to step away from a frenetic pace of living.
I often think of time spent on my Vespa scooter as a form of therapeutic meditation. I can’t think of any time when I have been standing along a quiet road next to the scooter and not feeling relaxed and calm. It’s those memories that continue to tell me I need to go for a ride.
Being Quiet
Being quiet, especially with others around, is a challenge. I appreciate the power in silence, inside and out, but wonder if it’s a foreign concept or goal for others. The relentless retreat to a phone screen, when faced with a moment alone, seems the preferred choice. Standing in the woods, quiet, and doing nothing other than looking and listening can be a nervous choice if I don’t practice leaving the damn phone in my pocket. God forbid should I ever mount it to the handlebar.
There’s nothing like being delightfully alone on the road.
Relaxing into a ride takes a few minutes, to get past the sudden exhilaration of motion and the feeling of flying. In my head, there’s a sudden swirl of thoughts and concerns as they exit my consciousness like water down a drain. And then all is quiet. I’m alone. Calm. Serene.
Seeing a road winding away into the distance is always exciting. There was a time I saw such things as an impediment to my goal of getting somewhere. Now I see them as doorways into something unknown. An experience to embrace.
The Tug of Change
It may have been on this ride last September that I began to think about the wear and tear this kind of riding was doing to the scooter. Jarring bumps that bottomed out the suspension, wandering tires when the gravel suddenly became loose and deep, and the endless stones and rocks grinding away at metal as they pummel the underside of the frame.
I began thinking I should get something more suitable for this kind of riding.
Lust for Food
Maybe the real reason I ride is to have an excuse to go out to eat. During the pandemic, my attendance in diners and cafes has dwindled to almost zero. Whenever I learn of a place with outdoor seating I register that location in my mental Garmin and use the data when an opportunity presents itself.
Whatever thoughts that I need to go for a ride were in place, my stomach was overriding them to say, “I’m hungry!”
Hublersburg Inn
The September afternoon was pleasant enough to have lunch outdoors at the Hublersburg Inn. The temperature being in the mid-60s meant most people were eating indoors. Four people sat at a table on the other side of the patio so I felt comfortable indulging my culinary needs.
This wasn’t the first time here. Back in the 1970s, I used to have dinner here but then there were no options for outdoor dining. The patio setup I suspect is the result of the pandemic. And for me and my drug-suppressed immune system, it’s a possible option.
Heart-Healthy Lunch
No. Probably not.
But damn those fish and chips were tasty. Just what I needed after some time immersed in moto-meditation. After a leisurely lunch and thoughts about the day, I got back on the Vespa and turned towards home.
Since then I’ve returned once with my friend Paul. And when the weather warms again, I suspect I’ll find my way there again.
I Need to Go for a Ride
Winding my way home after lunch was a slow, reluctant journey through fields and forests. Part of the day was immersed in exploring, and part was a rejuvenation of my spirit. I passed many places I had seen before, but with different eyes. That’s one of the powers of riding, its capacity to transform the familiar into something new.
And then I was home, sated, smiling, and ready for whatever life would bring my way.
Again you have sucked my thoughts out of my mind and put them in more eloquent words than I could ever manage. I am sitting in my mini-suite at the Jacaranda waiting to meet Bill and Celeste for morning coffee. It has been a great weekend of riding and friendship. It has been cold (for us) and misty and every minute of the riding was fantastic. Riding in the mist through the orange grooves with the sweet smell of new blossom is heavenly. Having ice cream in cold weather in Frostproof, FL at the Frost Bite is like your eating experiences just not as sophisticated.
After the temperature climbs out of the 30’s, Bill and I will saddle up and head in different directions but the next trip is already planned and it will only be a few weeks before we do this again in north Florida.
About the “mini-suite”, it is not nearly as elegant as your mind is picturing it. The air-conditioning sounds like a jet engine and the old steam heaters leak. But it is going back in time as it was built in 1926 and nothing has been modernized. Plus, when all the staff know you by your first name it makes it feel just like home.
Your stay at the Jacaranda sounds idyllic to me. I like old places that have not been sanitized and made ordinary by removing whatever character a place once had. My fondest memories of staying in such places are a 500-year-old inn in Dinkelsbühl, Germany. The room key was a huge metal one that you left at the front door when going out, and as you pushed the huge, heavy door open into the room the first thing that struck you was the old wooden floor wasn’t quite level. But I slept soundly and have fond memories now. Even with the jet engine in your room, I imagine it to be similar…
I’m glad this post met you more positively than the last one about the Himalayan. Trust that the Vespa will still play a role in my riding life and by extension here.
Say hello to Bill for me and ask him for safety’s sake to keep the speed to a reasonable limit!
Hi to you too, Steve.
I made it home safely, 220 miles of county and state roads at speeds a little above the legal limit unless inhibited by a slow driver.
The same way I always ride.
But I always make it home. (Tapping wood)
Ken is the favorite resident of the Jacaranda Hotel.
The staff all love him and greet him just like Norm in the old Cheers shows.
I think you would like it.
You are invited to join us at any time.
Bill
I could use a 220-mile ride about now. It’s just so cold. I can’t wrap my head around a 5-mile ride right now let alone something like that. I envy your environs in the winter.
Making it home safely is a worthy goal. Whatever you’re doing seems to be working!
I can see Ken playing Norm. And after I looked up the Jacaranda in Google I could see the spirit and character of the place, despite A/C sounding like a jet engine.
I hope one day I might be able to join you guys for a fine ride!
The temperature for my ride home yesterday started at 48F and never rose above 55F.
But it was sunny and I was layered up, at least my upper body.
I was not uncomfortable and quite enjoyed the ride.
I’m looking forward to temperatures like that next week. It’s been bitter cold here at night and the days don’t warm enough to make riding seem feasible for this tired old man regardless of the gear I wear. It’s hell to get old!
In this world of care, take some time to stop and stare.Credit W H Davies,
I should put that on a T-shirt Robert. A fine reminder.
“Therapeutic meditation”. I like that idea and will remember that the next time I go for a ride on MY Vespa. Thanks for the insight. Hope you have a good week riding where ever you choose.
…the next time I go for a ride on MY Vespa. I’ve been thinking about that. Snowed again yesterday and it’s still cold enough that I’m not quite ready to venture out onto the road. Despite that, it’s a fine day and all is well here. Hope the same holds for you and your family.
Things will change with the Himalayan in the picture. It’s made for the dirt and gravel roads you love so much and you may be more inclined to continue riding than stopping to look at muddy puddles. But pack the camera anyway.
I think you’re right Jim. Already I’ve planned many long dirt road rides. And the Mid-Atlantic BDR runs not far east of me. I’ll likely do some exploring there as well.
The camera will always be with me. Whether I stop as much on the Himalayan as I do on the Vespa is hard to know. I absolutely do not stop as much on the K75.
Be well!
Therapeutic for me this morning Steve … Thanks for the post and prompt … I will spend the rest of the day in and out of plausible rides and destination ruminations … Splendid!
Those plausible rides and destinations are the best sort of daydreaming and rumination. I imagine some people do the same for fishing trips, golf outings, hikes and such, but nothing grabs my mind like imagining the next ride.
You were clearly Himalayan hankering back in September… but may not have realised it then. Now you have…
Regards Chris
I was hankering for something. The Himalayan was rather recent on my radar. But the more I read and watched, the more it seemed a perfect fit for me. Now I have something suited to explore all those unexplored places near to home.
Great little article. Reminded me of riding behind my Dad when we were living at Clark AB in the Philippenes way back in the mid sixties. Dad was AF and bought an older Vestpa, maybe a big 3 or 400 cc? But I so enjoyed sitting behined him on the big seat and riding into the base on cool mornings. And I’ve been riding bigger bikes now for 40 yrs!
Thanks for the kind words Phil. Memories can be a wonderful thing.