Scooter in the Sticks

Exploring life on a Vespa Scooter and Royal Enfield Himalayan motorcycle.

That Clown Car Feeling

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I returned a BMW RT1200 to Kissell Motorsports last week after 250 miles of experimenting. The transition from motorcycle to Vespa is odd and with such a big machine I had the old clown car feeling again. It fades fast but still, it affects my ego.

The past week was hectic. On the way home from Cleveland this past Tuesday it started to snow not far from the highest elevation on Interstate 80 east of the Mississippi. Very odd for May 11. The last frost is supposed to be today. Kim and I stopped to take a few pictures, look at a few rocks.

Life is more or less back to normal. Riding the Vespa to work on some days. Still finding plenty of parking space in town before 7am. And liking the Hipstamatic app for the iPhone to shoot these stylistically odd photos of the Vespa.

I’ll be posting sometime soon on the experience with a real BMW — the RT1200. But not before I do a bit more riding on the Vespa.

The BMW F650 GS: A Crisis of Confidence

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I feel guilty. It’s been over a month since I returned this BMW to Kissell Motorsports. It’s taken equally long to write this post. I knew I had to put something down here, so I began with an image I remembered: stopping, pulling off my gloves and walking across the road to take this picture. I was uncomfortable. Like Wayne and Garth from Wayne’s World when they meet Aerosmith in their basement, I could hear my mind crying, “I’m not worthy.” I looked at this brand new BMW and felt like an imposter.

A mini-crisis of faith flickered to life.

I’d been warned. More than one dedicated BMW rider suggested something would happen if I rode one. A slight smile and oblique reference to some strange BMW voodoo. Hints that, once I put some miles on one of these machines, I’d be hooked. Thoughts of my friend Alex joining the Hare Krishna in 1973 came to mind. The usual music that plays in my head when I ride wasn’t there. All was quiet on the riding front.

I’m still not sure I can adequately describe what transpired, but I need to get past this post.

The BMW F650 GS looks at home in the central Pennsylvania landscape. On this bike, I began to think about the hierarchy of riders I’ve closeted away in some small place in my head. At the bottom, minibikes, mopeds and electric bicycles. At the top, those riders who regularly transverse countries and continents. The movie Long Way Round, with Charlie Boorman and Ewan McGregor circling the planet on their BMWs.

Was this really what I believed?

None of this would have occurred if the F650 GS wasn’t a fine, elegant machine. From the moment I heard the engine turn over to the moment I put down the kickstand, returning it to Kissell’s, I was impressed. This bike was well-designed, functional, powerful and smooth. I had nothing to complain about.

Well, almost nothing.

Starting out on a test ride with the thermometer reading 20 degrees Fahrenheit may not be the best way to critique a motorcycle. I’ve convinced myself that cold is a state of mind, and if attired correctly and focused properly on the task at hand (riding this shiny new motorcycle), the cold will melt away. So confident I was that I dismissed the need for my electric gloves (Gerbing plug wouldn’t fit the BMW port) in favor of the BMW’s heated grips.

A mile from home I feel a knife push on the side of my neck where the air found a gap between my helmet and ski mask. Another flow of frigid air inflates my one-piece Olympia riding suit, as air sneaks past the top of my left boot and on up my leg. The sun is out and I tell myself this is temporary. The instrument display still reads 20F. I switch on the heated grips.

Smooth comes to mind as I move down the road at 60mph. From the sound of the starter to the tires rolling on the highway, everything is really smooth. Shifting, cornering, braking. As if this BMW was designed purely to carry a rider along with a minimum of reminders of mechanical intrusion. I could focus on the experience rather than the machine. I think I was smiling.

Then my first minor complaint. An adjustment, really. I have to make a right turn and my left thumb automatically searches for the turn signal button. Returning to mechanical reality, my mind overcomes muscle memory and pushes the right-hand signal paddle next to the throttle. Unlike other motorcycles I’ve driven, which have one switch that operates the signal for both right and left turns, BMW’s are unique in having separate switches for each side. But by the end of that first hour of riding, the turn signal system is set in muscle memory, and it’s no longer an issue. That was the only mechanical stumble I had.

Well, almost.

Fifteen miles from home, it’s still 20F and my hands are getting cold. I am really disappointed with the heated grips. No help at all. I pull off the road to park so I can warm my hands on the exhaust system. I put my hands next to the muffler and see it is well-shielded and gives off no heat. The headlights are recessed a bit and hard to get your hands on, so no relief there either. So I just wait awhile for my hands to warm a bit inside my gloves. The sun is shining so it seems fine.

This BMW is quick. With little effort it seems to be instantly traveling 75mph. I slow down and before long notice a farm lane, more my style and speed. Ice still covers waterholes and I make a mental note so the bright sun and dry roads don’t surprise me.

The ground in this field is hard. Frozen. If this wasn’t a brand-new motorcycle belonging to someone else, I’d ride across this big field to see where I’d end up. The F650 GS seems as if it would be just as comfortable off-the-pavement.

Cold hands force another stop by a red barn. Or maybe I stopped because I wanted a picture. While sitting on the motorcycle, pondering the switch for the heated grips, it occurs to me I’m not the sharpest crayon in the box. Apologies to BMW for any adverse inference about their technology. It was a minor miracle when I realized I had never actually switched the grips on. On maximum my hands were toasty in a matter of minutes. Verdict: Heated grips coupled with a pair of insulated leather or windproof gloves would probably be all I’d need for temperatures down to the mid-20s.

The BMW eats up the road. It’s no wonder so many BMW riders pile on so many miles. It’s just so easy. Pennsylvania has a lot of roads that reach out ahead with little traffic and endless sights. I’ve spent my whole life wandering in one manner or another, and I’m still in love with this landscape.

Back to the crisis of faith. Last Saturday morning, my friend Paul and I went for a ride. This time on my Vespa. The usual excuse to have breakfast somewhere other than home. We made a stop at the Amish harness shop in Madisonburg. While there, a guy pulled in on a motorcycle obviously configured for travel. You know the look – big Pelican waterproof cases on both sides and top, all those little extras that say “I’m headed somewhere.” And in riding clothes that reflect a lot of time on the road. In the back of my head, I’m already thinking I’m not really a rider, but an enthusiastic dilettante with a scooter.

During the ensuing conversation, the rider relates his plans to leave in a few weeks for a trip to Alaska with a friend. Sixteen thousand miles and six weeks on the road. Listening to him describe his trip, I’m simultaneously calculating vacation days at work and conversations with Kim that contain the phrase “I’ll be gone for six weeks.”

I can’t picture that trip. I’m not sure I would even want to make that trip. The F650 GS could easily make that trip. Before leaving, the guys says he put 97K miles on his other bike in the last four years. And his friend has 240K miles on his bike. I was too embarassed to make a picture.

I’m not worthy.

Looking around in the woods for morel mushrooms, I can’t help but wonder who these people are that ride so much. Don’t they have jobs? Families? Responsibilities? I wonder if I’m jealous. Mostly I’m perplexed about my own riding life. And this BMW I have to play with.

I love riding alone and this motorcycle embraces it perfectly. Riding through the mountains here I’m reminded of scenes from Then Came Bronson. He rode a Harley, but what mattered is a person on a bike, alone, and on the road. This is why I ride. How far is of less importance. There are myriad paths for a rider to follow, literally and figuratively, and my challenge is to figure out how riding fits into my life. Riding is part of my life. A quiet time-out. A meditation. But it isn’t my life.

There were a lot of paths I would have liked to choose, but time and good sense got in the way. I really wanted to ride across this bridge and up into the woods on the other side. I knew, like a faithful horse, the F650 GS would take me.

The crisis of faith triggered by this motorcycle stirred up all the stories, lies, and marketing messages I have consumed over the years. If I wasn’t crossing Mongolia or screaming through an Alpine pass, I was somehow missing something important. I was forgetting who I am as a rider, in favor of some idealized notion.

The BMW was at home in town as well, which is something I can’t say for every motorcycle I’ve ridden. The bike is nimble and easily navigates the streets, alleys and parking spaces around here. Well, I suppose you don’t have to be all that nimble in a small town.

Add side bags or a topcase and this bike would be an excellent commuter. BMWs are allowed to be commuter bikes during the week aren’t they?

So, here I am, at the end of this post. I wish I’d kept the bike longer. I considered telling Craig Kissell I lost it but that seemed wrong. If I had more time I would have gone on a real ride. Far. Take a trip. I could go anywhere on this motorcycle. Alaska didn’t seem unreasonable for a few moments.

But for now, I’m satisfied with the choices I’ve made and the riding I do. This BMW will adapt to my style, or for someone who wants to ride around the world.

I bet there is space in my garage for one of these.

Taking Home a BMW F 650 GS

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The time has arrived to check out one of the new BMW motorcycles at Kissell Motorsports. I was going to wait until the weather was a bit warmer but when Craig Kissell send an email asking when I was going to take a GS for a ride what could I do? So I am starting with a BMW F 650 GS. This one is brand new. Zero miles on the odometer. I get nervous being the first one to take something out on the road. But who am I to complain? A quick check of the bike and the controls revealed a big difference from the usual tools on my Vespa. This bike has ABS brakes, heated grips, built in port for electrics, and a lot more.

I didn’t really have time for any riding today. Just a less than direct ride home from work with a few stops to check out the motorcycle. The turn signals took a couple of practice runs to reprogram my brain from the one button all function switch on the Vespa to the three button self canceling function of the BMW. A smarter person could make the adjustment on the road. I had to pull over and look at the controls for everything to make sense. A little side trip up a gravel road did the trick. This motorcycle is smooth, quiet, and seems to pull no matter what speed I’m traveling or what gear I’m in. My kind of performance.

Home appeared too quickly. I stopped the motorcycle at the end of the driveway being cautious with this shiny new machine. On the Vespa I would have zipped right between our cars and on to the garage.

I’m planning an early departure tomorrow despite the weather forecast calling for 20F at daybreak. And since my Gerbing electric gloves have the wrong connector I won’t be able to plug them in. So I will have a chance to try out heated grips. And if all else fails I can cozy up to the big shiny muffler.

I’m excited. I can tell. For the next few days I am a BMW rider.

Embracing the Winter Night Ride

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We’ve had a lot of snow this month and most of it is still piled around. The hemlock trees in the front yard aren’t as full as they were when I made this picture last week but snow still hangs in the branches. Work, the dog, and the weather have taken a huge bite out of my riding opportunities and I feel the lack of road time. A nervous energy, an anticipation, a pacing grows in my spirit. This past Friday evening Kissell Motorsports was celebrating the addition of BMW motorcycles to their line of European machines and were unveiling the new BMW S 1000RR. What better opportunity to ride than to an event like this.

Photography was not much on my mind so forgive the incidental images. Attention was directed on the road, the night, and the challenges presented when snow, ice and subfreezing temperatures demand a different sort of rider attention. On the way home from work in the truck I paid close attention to the road surface in a manner that the average cager doesn’t need to. Sporatic spots of ice, snow and salt ladden water don’t mean the same thing when you are using four wheels.

I stopped on the way to Kissell’s to take one more look at the road surface, guage the traffic, and give myself one last opportunity to turn around and go home. Standing under the streetlight I realized what I was doing, I could feel my senses sharpening, eyes scanning for riding dangers, thoughts working out handling plans and contingencies, I was moving into winter rider mode.

I understand the incredulous reactions of other riders to this activity. For those who are nervous about riding at night in good weather they are doubly opposed to it when there is a certainty of slippery stuff. Judged from a perspective of recreational riding this activity is simply nuts. And I have considered it so more than once or twice.

Riding in the winter is special and for me the payoff is in the complete focus it delivers. I suspect it is similar to what accomplished athletes find in their individual sports. Everything not important to the task at hand is stripped away and I find a purity of purpose and spirit. Is it worth the risk (and it does exist)? Each rider has to make their own decision. There is not right or wrong answer here. It’s personal.

The Vespa GTS 250ie was the only two wheeled vehicle outside the doors of Kissell Motorsports. Their parking lot still had some big patches of smooth ice. Not the sort of surface you want to come flying into. Definitely the kind of obstacle that a rider must plan for when riding at night in the winter.

Even when all the snow is gone and the roads are dry there are many reasons why you might encounter ice. There always seems to be someone washing their car in the winter who drives off leaving nice icey tire tracks on the road. And now, with so much snow still around I encountered several instances of show piles on the road courtesy of drivers who don’t clear their vehicles of snow before leaving home.

At night I have to make a lot of adjustments. Apologies to everyone else on the road. I leave my high beam on. I just need to see the road ahead. Curiously no one ever flashes me. Maybe it is not as bright as I think it is. And the scanning process that takes place during the day is more furious at night. And I anticipate potential problems and make use of lane adjustments, speed and stopping more often. The ride is not about moving from point A to point B as smoothly and quickly as possible. It is about being as careful, prudent and safe as possible. A very different ride.

Events were already underway when I arrived. After grabbing a hot dog I made my way around to a vantage point where I could see the BMW S1000 RR when it would be revealed. A lot of people turned out to see the new line of motorcycles. With the Canon G9 in one hand and a hot dog in the other I waited.

Moments after the box was removed and before people queued up to take a closer look and sit on the bike. I’m amazed at the sophistication of the motorcycles today. The two-stroke dirt bike I road in the 1960s seems like a toy in comparision. A junky toy.

There were new BMWs everywhere in a maze of machinery. I made mental notes of the ones I would fantasize about.

The BMW R1200 GS bikes were very nice. I can see myself with one of those. I’ve sent away for plans for a new garage.

Dan Leri owns, I think, a BMW RT1200. He’s sitting here trying to decide which bike to buy his wife for Valentine’s Day. I think that’s what he was doing.

My friend Paul Ruby was standing in the corner playing with his iPhone. He’s addicted and in search of a 12-step group. The place where people say “I’m powerless over my iPhone and my life has become unmanageable”. Paul has a BMW X Moto 800(?). All I know is it seems to be the tallest motorcycle I have ever ridden.

I plan to return to look the new motorcycles over more carefully. When my mind isn’t preoccupied with the ride home. The obstacles, the risks. The smart man would return by the same safe route found earlier in the evening right?

It’s good to know I’m smart some of the time.

Vespa GTS 300: The Town and Country Ride

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That’s me examining the Vespa GTS300 Super.

Going through some additional pictures recently it occurred to me (again) that this scooter is an exceptional, all-around vehicle for town and country riding. My own Vespa GTS 250ie is near perfect for daily commuting to work and for weekend rides in the 50 to 200 miles range so it was hard to imagine any real advantages of the newer and bigger scooter. But the extra power makes this Vespa a perfect town and country ride.

Anyone who has piloted a big motorcycle around town, pulling into parking spaces, running a quick errand, and repeating the process half a dozen times knows how tedious it can be to roll a heavy bike into a parking space. They aren’t always as nice and open as the one in the picture above. The Vespa is so easy to maneuver that you can easily get the scooter into any available space with little effort. The only easier mode of transport in town would be a bicycle. Unfortunately I’ve never had as much fun on a bicycle as I do on a scooter.

The 300 isn’t too big and it isn’t too small. It’s just right and easily blends into the urban and town environment. I appreciate the ease of stopping and putting the Vespa on the centerstand for pictures. Pop the seat open, grab a camera and go. That translates easily into a wide range of errands.

I’ve like the way a Vespa looks. The lines and styling almost make the scooter seem like a sculpture rather than something to ride. It makes a fine subject for pictures.

I took the Vespa through local streets and alleys, stopping and starting, parking, moving, U-turns, everything I could think of to try and find a maneuver that was just plain irritating. Verdict– my only complaint was the absence of the rear rack and side bar that is standard with the GTS250. I like having the handle to hold onto when I throw the scooter up on the center stand.

You hear a lot about people noticing motorcycles and scooters. My experience is that those already interested in riding or machines may pause or ask a question. Everyone else, like the woman in the picture, passes by without a glance. Civilians don’t seem much interested in two-wheeled machines. She does provide compositional balance to the picture as the Vespa stands illegally on the sidewalk in Calder Alley.

Out of town, on winding tree lined roads that climb over the mountains of central Pennsylvania this big Vespa goes as fast as any touring rider would want to go. While no road racer it’s power and acceleration are surprising. For weekend rides through the country, rides in the 150 to 250 mile range are no problem on the Vespa 300 (or the 150 or 25o for that matter). My friend Paul shot this picture of me riding up the Unionville Pike.

On the way home I passed a BMW RT1100 sitting at a light as I passed through the intersection. I thought it might be my friend Dan so I pulled off the road and waited. Years ago Dan had a Vespa with a sidecar but now he’s on a more luxurious ride. Sure enough he pulls up and we have a chance to compare notes between his BMW and the Vespa. Most people don’t picture two machines as different as these as possible riding partners. They are completely different with different strengths and weaknesses but for an occasional, rleaxed weekend ride through the country there is no reasons these two can’t play together fine.

The Vespa really isn’t as small as it looks in this picture. Looks can be deceiving. Scooters are functional and useful. They may not be able to rocket you down the road at 100mph but the Vespa 300 will fly along all day on the roads of this region without a complaint — in town or in the country.