Exploring life on a Vespa, Royal Enfield Himalayan, Honda Trail 125, and a Kawasaki W650
Just a mile or so to the right in this photograph is a road I’ve ridden or driven a hundred times or more. Somehow I never realized another world existed just over the hill. Sitting in my living room the previous evening with my good friend Google Maps I discovered some roads I didn’t know existed. It’s a little unsettling to discover new places just 35 miles from home. A fine day to do a little exploring on the Himalayan.
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In my brief and seldom views into the social and marketing realms of the Moto-world I’m always shocked at how overwhelming the size, weight, power, and tech can be. It feels a lot like going into a hotel and turning on the TV and feeling it’s all commercials and pitches with very little content.
A 150cc Vespa scooter seems a lost and forgotten machine amidst the din of macho claims and excitement of real motorcycles. Scooters are dismissed for a variety of reasons. “Real” riders dismiss them for lack of everything. Some find them embarrassing, common I think in a world of giant SUVs and trucks where size reinforces myriad weaknesses in self image. And probably the most egregious view of scooters is their inability to deliver on the road. Simply put, they’re toys for the beach and not much more.
Taking my ET4 for a ride always reminds me of how capable it is, and how grateful I am to ride one. For a week our hot water heater was dead and awaiting replacement. That first hot shower, something easily taken for granted, was suddenly an amazing experience. How grateful I am to have a hot shower. It’s the same with my 150cc Vespa scooter.
Out on a backroad on my way to breakfast and taking in the beautiful central Pennsylvania landscape in which I get to ride. I’m a lucky man.
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Over and over I’m reminded that there’s little profit in holding too tightly to my plans. It was demonstrated again as I prepared for a long ride with my friend Paul and proceeded to rip the tire valve from a rear tire of my W650 before even leaving the driveway. Hugely frustrating because I had planned so carefully, visualized the map, and imagined how it would feel to be on the road with a friend on a leisurely ride to breakfast.
The frustration was strong and dominating my thoughts which in turn robs me of some of the riding experience as I replay events in my head, continually kicking myself for the stupid mistakes I made leading up to having to replace the W650 with my Himalayan. Gratitude was nowhere to be found despite the gift of having an alternative machine to ride.
Frustration was ruling the moment and blinding me to anything good or positive. A sad way to leave on a ride.
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Expectations can trip me up if I cling to them too strongly. Thinking a ride has to be some sort of exceptional adventure is the sort of thinking that can rob me of opportunities that are anything but an adventure. Those days when I only have an hour to ride can seem not worth the effort to gear and and go. Especially if I am just going to retrace roads that I’ve literally ridden a hundred times before.
Recently I forced myself out of the house and onto the road on the Royal Enfield Himalayan for an, ordinary, mundane ride.
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A fine marketing slogan that swept through the Moto-world a few years ago with the predictable declarations of freedom and escape. I don’t deny those things for they are certainly present, but there is something larger at work as I ride.
On the surface, I rolled the Kawasaki W650 motorcycle out the door to ride to breakfast. Alone, on a hot day, by myself. A simple act with nothing much on my mind as I pulled the choke and thumbed the machine to life.
And almost instantly I was climbing up the Allegheny Front on a road I generally avoid.
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