Eyes Open While Riding on a Vespa
Walking through a local park with Kim and Junior the bloom of flowers on ornamental trees, the emergence of color on Redbuds, and the sudden, shocking splash of green across the landscape scream Spring. And with it comes memories of my riding on a Vespa scooter through fields and mountains in springs past that cause tremors in my resolve to keep the scooter and motorcycle unused during the COVID-19 pandemic.
I’m grateful for the wonderful memories of past rides and it doesn’t take long to conjure scenes and experiences that cause my imagination to glow.
When I close my eyes and think of spring riding what comes to mind is the warmth and color. Those first rides tell me I can finally stop girding myself for the cold and embrace a different experience. And the broad strokes of green remind me that the world is alive and well. And now during the current pandemic I’m reminded of how fragile we really are as humans and as a civilization.
Nature can slap us down in an instant.
Rain, Mist, and Spring Riding on a Vespa
Not all rides in spring are warm. The transition from cold to warm brings myriad light and atmospheres. My favorite being fog. I’ve ridden countless miles through forests and mountains here in central Pennsylvania in fog. Aside from the obvious adjustments in riding strategy in such conditions, and the sharpening of technique riding in gravel on a scooter, there is the real reward of the fog — entry into a magical realm of mystery and imagination.
At the hint of fog I’m out the door. I feel fortunate there have been no temptations so far while my machines sleep in the garage.
Elves and Forest Sprites
The opportunity to escape into the forest, on foot or under power, is one of the great gifts of living in this part of Pennsylvania. I don’t ride fast and my scooter is quiet. There is no racing or challenging of speed and endurance in the way I ride. For me, the blessing of riding is the transformation from person to spirit. I find myself somewhere quiet and beautiful, wandering by foot on the soft forest floor of humus and fine needles, and become someone else. In this place there are elves and sprites and creatures of song and story.
I was reading a story this morning on whether the Sturgess Rally would occur this year because of the pandemic. I tried to imagine being there, riding there, experiencing the energy. Perhaps I would like it. But my mind keeps drifting back to these solitary places.
The Road Through Secret Wards
Memory. I believe it creates and defines us.
Without it what would we be. I’ve continued Scooter in the Sticks in part to remember who I am and where I’ve been. Insurance for that day when new experiences become difficult to manufacture or my mind dims and has trouble recalling.
So many roads hold so many memories of riding a Vespa. They offer solace and a vicarious thrill. And they serve a purpose remembered in a poem by William Wordsworth:
Retirement then might hourly look
Upon a soothing scene,
Age steal to his allotted nook
Contented and serene;
William Wordsworth
I hope each of you finds your own path and route through our current collective journey into a world ruled by a virus.
How helpful are your memories of riding on a Vespa or motorcycle as you deal with this current contraction of society?
Stay safe and be well.
I have my coffee, a fresh corn muffin, and a new SITS post to start the day. Couldn’t be better. Thanks!
It’s nice to have rituals in the morning! A fresh corn muffin sounds great. Maybe I need to get the cornmeal down and do some baking today. Or at least make some cornbread!
Be well Tom and stay safe.
Steve, I share your enthusiasm about fog … as long as I didn’t have to fly through it when I was in the Navy. And similarly, snow. It quiets everything.
I hope you’ll be able to get back to riding before too long. Keep the posts coming.
I can understand the concern of fog and flying. Probably not so dissimilar to fog and sailing save for the rapidity of catastrophe. The last time I sailed was in a 38 foot Hans Christian Cutter from Norfolk, Virginia to Peakes Island, Maine. We left Provincetown, Massachusetts early on a rainy, windy morning for Peake’s Island. About 15 miles from our destination the wind died along with the engine. The fog was thick and eventually, we could hear waves crashing on rocks. Thankfully, we were able to get the engine running and avoid an unfortunate meeting with the coast. The fog didn’t affect my desire to ride, but it ended my desire to sail in blue water!
Not sure when I might be able to ride again. Since both Kim and I have medically suppressed immune systems it may be quite sometime before our doctors say it’s safe to rejoin the parade!
Same here Steve. We’re just doing all we can to avoid this disease until the time when the medical system catches up to the point where if (and more likely when) we become infected, they have the capability to take care of us.
I’m not hopeful that we’ll get to that place anytime soon. Finding a treatment or a vaccine is not a quick or easy task. We’re preparing for a long term confinement. Thankfully we’re in a good place for that — at home, and in the locale in which we live. Plenty of opportunity to be outside without running into other people.
Take care your yourself.
I’m not sure those memories help. Had lots of free days recently with awesome weather, spent crying looking at the lonely Vespa 😀 Those once-in-a-week 5km rides to the supermarket don’t cut it 😉
Most Vespa rallies have been cancelled here, even those far into August unfortunately.
Let’s hope we can ride again soon!
I understand. The weather here is warming and I can imagine many, many rides. At least you have the supermarket runs. Our groceries are delivered.
My expectations are dark in terms of when I can ride again. As much as I hear on the news about flattening the curve that was something to ease the strain on the medical system, not keep us from eventually getting infected. Until a vaccine arrives, I suspect things won’t return to what many believe is normal.
At this point, we aren’t even certain on whether we will get back to Alaska this summer or whether it’ll be worth the trip. Any tourist destinations may or may not be open. Princess just announced that they will not be operating any of the land-based portions such as hotels and rail cars. But they didn’t mention bus tours. And Denali Park is remaining closed.
Perhaps you’ll just find a quiet and low infection rate place and wait out the storm. God willing and the bread holds out!
Be well and stay safe Richard!
We walked this morning, overcome occasionally by swiftly moving April snow showers. Beautiful really and not unlike fog and it’s transcendence. I was carrying my G16 and snapped a frame or three. Foul weather can be so inviting. Thanks for the post.
It’s turned a little colder again here and I’m just not pleased. Feel so much colder now than I used to. Warm weather is not far off now.
My Canon G15 is on its last legs I fear. Too much gunk on the sensor making it more and more time-consuming to clean up the images. I’ll be looking at a replacement sometime soon. The Canon M50 looks good to me in terms of stills and video.
Hope you continue to find some inviting weather and space to get out into it.
I so appreciate the gift of the written word that you share with us, Steve. You find a way with each post to draw me into your world until it suddenly seems like you’re describing my world as I ride through the Missouri countryside on my Vespa GTS. Please keep sharing, even if it’s just your memories of the past.
I’m happy to know that you find some value in the things I share here. I try and reflect my experiences while riding, in part to help me better appreciate them, and after starting the blog to perhaps allow others a door into their own riding experiences.
I look at a lot of maps and satellite images and Missouri appears to me to have some wonderful riding. Someday I hope to ride into the Mark Twain National Forest.