Cool Air and a Heavy Sky
Being old isn’t just a physical state. It is a state of mind. And if I want to remain “young”, especially in the face of physical decline, I need to push away the feelings that life is finished when I wake with more aches and pains than usual.
Sounds simple enough but thoughts of mortality coupled with those early morning surprises make keeping the old man out a real challenge. Getting on a scooter or motorcycle and going for a ride is a way of thumbing my nose at old age.
I don’t remember why I decided to ride the Vespa GTS scooter that morning. Looking at the photograph of it under the heavy overcast sky I do remember the thrill at being out on the road. The reason doesn’t really matter.
Morgan Freeman
There were a few old men at the lake. Myself included. It’s strange sometimes to think of myself as an old man. So many memories from decades ago still feel as fresh as having happened yesterday. Getting old is a state of mind.
I stumbled upon an interview with Morgan Freeman recently. The conversation was a rambling discussion of his career and longevity as an actor and the predictable question was posed — “What’s your secret to being able to keep acting?”
Freeman smiled and shared a conversation he had with Clint Eastwood, another actor with a long career. He said Eastwood told him it’s simple — “Just don’t let the old man in.”
It took a moment to comprehend the meaning. Now I carry it along with me as an important reminder and philosophy. Not to live forever but to live as fully as I can in the face of whatever limitations time and body present. A big part of getting older is a direct result of my thinking and making sure I don’t let thoughts of getting old in without clear evidence to support them.
Awareness and Realizations
Most of my riding takes place on quiet backroads. There’s little traffic or pressure to surge ahead. The only moderator of my riding is me. I can go as slow or fast as I wish and stop almost anywhere. When riders speak of freedom this is it for me. When I can pull the Vespa to a stop to look around and take a picture I am a free man. I am aware of the world and realize I can change and adapt as needed.
Recently my rheumatologist wanted me to taper a drug used to treat psoriatic arthritis. Remission is possible but the only way to know for sure is to cut back the dosage.
This sort of medical stuff can start me thinking about getting old. The woes of taking a handful of medications every morning along with the constant reminders of the physical changes in my body due to aging and illness. A long history of psoriatic arthritis and a past heart attack have a way of waving their hands on beautiful days. I suppose I should be grateful of the reminders and adjust life accordingly rather than blithely forge ahead while my head is still buried in the sand.
I’ve cut my dose by 25%. So far it has not affected how much I can ride. A fine barometer of health and aging. I try to remember — don’t let the old man in.
Diagnosing Problems
I love the myth of not having a care in the world. The idea that there are people wandering the earth unconcerned about anything is just a fantasy. Aside from a tiny slice of the population of children I don’t think anyone is free like that. There’s always something to deal with.
Standing in the road in front of my Vespa scooter on a cool, gray, autumn-like morning I should have felt unencumbered by much of anything. But what I saw was an electrical issue. I have started to think there’s a current drain on the battery while the scooter sits in the garage. I won’t bore you with how I came to this belief but it is something I now have to address. And later in the day with my friend Paul’s assistance and his fancier than my multi-meter we determined there was no unusual current draw. The voltage and amps were as they should be. The battery was fine. But now I’m wondering if the starter is binding for a moment causing the hesitation when I first push the starter button in the morning.
This is the same mental gymnastics I can perform with my aging body. The difference is the scooter is a simple machine that can possibly be diagnosed by me. My body is a complex organism that won’t yield to myself or Google Gemini. If I don’t want to let the old man in I best leave the medical shit to my doctors.
Getting to the Pleasure
After all the years and miles on my Vespa GTS250 scooter it remains a joy to ride. Combine it with all the wonderful roads and paths close to home and I can easily embrace a beautiful, rolling sense of pleasure.
It’s great to be out on the road and enjoying life. The old man is no where to be seen.
Pleasure Turns Toward Hunger
There is always a moment when my stomach nudges my brain. Always. And the ride shifts from a relaxed experience with no destination in mind to one with a definite destination. Envisioning the roads winding ahead through the valley I began to plot a course that would lead me to fuel for the scooter and food for me. It wasn’t a bad shift but one rooted in reality.
If I don’t want to let the old man in I need to have a firm grasp on reality. There’s a difference between feeling old and thinking I’m old.
A Simple Breakfast Experience
A gallon and a half of premium fuel topped off the Vespa. I like to keep all the machines full and burn through a tank of gas every month so I don’t have to winterize anything. The same goes for me—I don’t winterize either. I just keep riding and walking, slowly adjusting to the changing season, though motivating myself to head outdoors when it’s genuinely cold has become more of a challenge. The aging process at work, no doubt. I’m fine with limits, so long as they’re real.
Sitting outside at Sheetz was a quiet way to eat breakfast. My phone served up a few stories from the New York Times, and I was comfortably relaxed until two young guys and a young woman pulled up in a beat-up old Toyota pickup. Two dogs were crammed into the extended cab, and all three people were piled into the front bucket seats. The raw determination of youth.
Things got uncomfortable when they began inspecting their terribly misaligned front tires, which looked to be suffering from catastrophically worn tie-rod ends—or something equally grim. One of the guys raised the truck with an old bottle jack and crawled straight underneath, hammering away while the entire chassis swayed precariously. I’ve never understood people crawling under vehicles supported only by a single mechanical jack.
I watched for as long as I could bear, but as the jack wobbled, I knew I couldn’t stay. In the past, any suggestion of risk in situations like this was met with pure disdain, so I simply got up and left, having no desire to witness a tragedy.
It was another ride reminding me that I’m still young in heart and mind—and doing just fine in the body, too.
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An elderly lady once said to me “Get old sucks”. I guess it does unless you have a positive attitude and can position yourself for a positive experience. Enjoy the ride as long as you can.
I guess we can’t always control what happens physically, but we do have choices in regard to our attitude. I think that’s what the Eastwood statement was suggesting.
I think if the old man gets in you better run his ass off fore he gets to comfortable..I had the unexpected pleasure of getting Mr. Morgan Freeman sign one of my handmade cigar box guitar about four years ago in Clarksdale Miss. I donated that one to our local volunteer Fire department for the annual auction fundraiser. Don’t slow down Steve !!! Thanks a million for thoughts and Great photos best emails I get for sure!!!
Thank you Don for your continuing comments and support. I plan to keep going until I can’t.
Pretty cool to run into Mr. Freeman. I’m sure the volunteer Fire Department appreciated both of you!
Sounds just like yesterday morning’s breakfast banter after which three of us threw legs over and rode out in search of the last vestiges of this seasons sweet corn. Beautiful day for a toot and we were successful. Let there be corn👌
We’re close to the end of sweet corn. Green beans and tomatoes are still plentiful along with cucumbers and squash. And plenty of pumpkins and gourds. And apples and Concord grapes. And don’t forget potatoes…
Breakfast banter is great. I’m glad I don’t always ride alone.
Maybe not what we signed up for or envisioned but sure (I think) better than the alternative. Ride on and safely.
The alternative is gloomy for sure…
Steve,
There is a quiet truth that took me years to fully grasp: getting old is simply what happens when everything goes right. It is not a defeat; it’s the privilege of having survived long enough to gather a bit of clarity about what actually matters.
Reading your reflection at the lake reminded me that wisdom isn’t about collecting answers, but about sharpening our presence. We spend so much of our youth racing toward destinations, only to realize later that the real magic was always in the movement itself—in the cool morning air, the steady hum of a machine under us, and the quiet freedom to pull over whenever a view demands our attention.
Like you, I use the road not to escape time, but to meet it on my own terms. Getting on two wheels isn’t about pretending the body isn’t changing; it’s about choosing to live fully within the space we have today, enjoying the ride with a deeper, richer appreciation that only time can give.
Keep keeping the old man at bay, Steve. I’ll be doing the same out on my own roads.
Warmly,
Daniel
Thank you for your thoughtful reply Daniel.
You’re right about growing older being a privilege. Easy to overlook that. And the same applies to the understanding the difference between escaping time and instead meeting it on our own terms. All of this requires wisdom that I don’t always have available as I can find myself racing through the day.
Be safe on the road as you keep the old man at bay.
Good read before I take the bike to Sheetz to pick up lunch.
My bikes and scooters have taken me to Sheetz many times…
I always wonder why people our age even worry about it. Like the weather, you can talk about it but can’t do anything about it. I shouldn’t say it out loud, but at 74 I don’t have any ailments that limit me. No back problems, no arthritis. My doctor and I debate his concerns over elevated A1-C and my blood pressure. I can tell you something that you may not like. Ride the motorcycles more. When I come back from a lengthy ride on the Kawasaki 750 I have a feeling like I’m coming off a high. Even my wife sees it. When I ride either scooter I don’t. A good, growling shifty bike will have your heartbeat rise and age just disappears.
I agree that there are some physical things over which we have no control. Genetics or good or bad luck at work. But I think Eastwood was referring to the mental aspect over which we can exert some choices. Fear, anxiety, and thoughts of fragility can haunt some men and women where it gets easier to just give up. That’s the old man to watch out for.
Your suggestion of riding the motorcycles more is interesting. Sitting here now I’m uncertain if the same thing happens to me. I am happy to experiment though. I’ll take the growling, shifty machines out a little more!
“…..how old would you be if you did’t know the day you were born?”
That’s a great question Frank. Honestly, I feel pretty young still. Somewhere in my 50s most of the time. And I suspect it will remain so until something physically changes. One bad back episode adds 20 years to my age.
Thanks for taking the time to share your thought. You are alway an inspiration in the way you tackle things still.
You know, I don’t mind letting the old man in. He’s no one to fear, really, and he probably has much to offer. We just have to sit down with each other and come to some agreements, that’s all. No worries.
Those agreements are important Tom. They cover the mental aspects of aging that might cause us to slow down or stop when there may not be a good reason to make that choice.
PLease use a darker font in your posts as this light grey is hard to see with old eyes. Thanks
Done. Sorry about the gray font color. I just made it black. Hopefully it will be easier to read now.