Scooter in the Sticks

Exploring life on a Vespa, Royal Enfield Himalayan, Honda Trail 125, and a Kawasaki W650

A Tiny Taste of Freedom

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Vespa GTS 250 scooter on a farm lane.
Free in the world on a Vespa scooter.

Do You Taste Freedom When You Ride?

This portrait is different from other portraits made of the Vespa scooter. I made it with a tiny taste of freedom in my mouth.

The word freedom is tossed at everything from promises made by salesman about new cars to politicians proclaiming it with shaking fists. Abstract descriptions of something that has so many different meanings to so many different people that it’s difficult to feel it. How do I know when I’m free?

On this morning, at the moment I made this picture, I could feel the thrill of freedom in my chest. Like a kid released for the summer on that last day of school. For me, it began the moment I stepped out of the DMV with my renewed drivers license indicating I no longer needed to wear glasses when I ride. The surgery for removal of cataracts and subsequent implantation of new lenses correcting my vision to 20/20 gave a tiny taste of freedom then, and on this morning when I pulled on my helmet and didn’t have to legally fiddle with glasses it burst into life.

It was shocking how exciting it felt. So much that I had to temper the emotions so I could pay attention to the road. As I rode a smile acknowledged gone was pressure of glasses to my temples and nose, no ongoing need to raise the visor to reposition the glasses, and no more fogging of glasses on those frigid rides.

A little thing in a complicated world. But I’ll take every bite of this tiny taste of freedom. What about you? When was the last time you had a taste?

Do I Ride to Escape Reality?

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A Vespa GTS 250 scooter parked along a road in a forest.
A few quiet moments for reflection.

Glad I’m Not Young

In a culture obsessed with looking, acting, and being young I’m definitely off course and on a different road. It’s taken some time but I’m comfortable in my skin and with the circumstances of each moment as it comes along. I’m not saying I don’t care about how I look or take care of myself but I’m not on the social rollercoaster to deflect the onslaught of time on my body or try to convince anyone else that I’m not a 71-year-old man. My days aren’t driven by a desire to fill every moment with meaning or to chase an adrenalin or dopamine fix to be satisfied that I am living. I’m not trying to escape reality.

Meandering on a Vespa the the hills and dales of home provide me time to think, reflect, and enjoy the breaths I take without any weight of performance or requirement. Just me walking on the earth feeling in balance with life. And in the particular moment standing in the woods I was glad I’m not young.

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Embracing the Risk of Riding a Motorcycle or Scooter

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Morning Fall — An Cinematic Reminder of Risk

I’ve posted this video many times over the years. In part to remind readers of the risk of riding. But mostly as attempt to keep myself honest about it. Especially as I get older. It’s easy to slip into complacency and pretend the risk isn’t really there. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dwell endlessly on it but I pay attention. Recently I found myself riding more often without the usual protective gear. Plain jeans. A denim jacket. Reading a few interviews with men and women suffering from severe road rash reminded me that as I approach my 72nd birthday I probably won’t heal as quickly as I once would. And it’s easy to mitigate. I’m afraid I’ve leaned too hard towards the irrational wisdom of “Dress for the ride, not for the crash” rather than the original slogan and it’s nod toward risk management — “Dress for the crash, not for the ride.”

A quick visit to Revzilla had me ordering some armored riding jeans. I already have one pair and they look and feel pretty much like regular jeans. Now I will have a choice of two. Just a little thing that hopefully will never been needed. I already have some impact and abrasion protection in jackets with my Merlin Hixon II leather jacket, and for hot weather my KLIM Induction jacket.

For cold weather there’s a gap though. And a few days ago I bit the bullet hard and ordered an Aerostich Darien jacket complete with back armor. I figure it an early birthday present as I prepare to celebrate 72 years around the sun. It will be 10 to 12 weeks before it arrives but in time for the cold weather this fall. All that’s left is a decision on whether to buy the Darien pants as well.

“Morning Fall” is a quiet, elegant, almost lyrical look at what an accident on a motorcycle might be like. I’ve watched YouTube videos of crashes where the feel is catastrophic impact and power. They’re mechanical and disconnected from any feeling of the crash. This video is different. It’s not scary or adapt to have you looking away. But it has a powerful resonance that for me at least, makes me consider not just the risk of riding a motorcycle, but also stimulates me to act.

Embracing the risk of riding a motorcycle or scooter is something I learned while taking my first Motorcycle Safety Foundation riding course. The idea has stuck with me and I actively apply what I learned about being a rider. Be safe on the road. Come home to those who love you.

When Riding Alone Isn’t Enough

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Man checking the rear wheel tire pressure on a Vespa ET4 scooter.
Checking the tire pressure on the Vespa ET4 is a challenge. (Photo by Andy Heckathorne)

Ungracious Awakenings

By temperament, I prefer to ride alone. Free to embrace the road at whatever pace I desire. Stopping to look or make photographs without concern for the tempo of others. No need to keep checking the mirrors or adjusting speed. Just the freedom to ride with my tumbling thoughts.

And still I ride with others because finding balance between solitude and connection makes life richer. I didn’t always understand that. Moments and opportunities arrive more frequently now when I realize riding alone isn’t enough.

The plan was a long scooter ride with friends Andy and Paul on an unexpectedly chilly morning. It was the Vespa ET4’s turn to ride and Andy caught me checking the tire pressure, an increasingly challenging operation now requiring knee cushioning and a limber back to engage the tire valve.

There seems to be no end to the reminders that I’m no longer young. Physically at least.

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Sticker Shock and Other Puzzlements

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Steve Williams with his Pentax MX camera at Penn Roosevelt State Park.
A stop with an old Pentax MX camera to ponder the analog world. Photo by Paul Ruby.

Puzzling Economic Thoughts

Having a head full of 1980s prices leads to endless shocks when paying for things. Doesn’t matter if it’s a ribeye steak at the grocery store or a new pair of jeans from L.L. Bean. Thankfully I seem to be insulated and unconcerned about the price of gas at the pump. No doubt buoyed by fuel stingy two-wheeled machines and an insignificant number of annual miles on our four-wheeled vehicles.

Wandering around the past few months shooting film costs money compared to the mindless triggering of digital images. Even processing Tri-X 35mm film myself costs $0.55 each time I press the shutter button. For some reason I don’t flinch. But there are a few things lately that have strained the economic area of my brain.

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