Scooter in the Sticks

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

Les Misérables

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Steve Williams self-portrait of him being illPortrait of Illness

First, I want to extend my apologies to Victor Hugo for borrowing his title for this post.  And more importantly, acknowledge that any suffering or illness I’m currently enduring is insignificant to that of millions of people.  Most of my problems in life definitely fall into the category of “First World Problems.”  Things like being driven crazy by having to enter “English” as my language choice every time I use the ATM.  Or the tremendous annoyance of the awful sound the credit card reader makes when it wants me to remove my card from the chip reader.  Or the current virus I’m now enduring that makes me tired, sore and miserable.

First world problems.

My wife asked me how I was feeling on Friday.  I took out my iPhone and made a self-portrait and sent it to her.  She felt responsible because she had already be struck with the same illness for two weeks with no sign of letting up for either of us.

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Giving Thanks

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Hot chocolate at Saint's Cafe in State College, PennsylvaniaGiving Thanks Fueled by Hot Chocolate

While sitting at the window in Saint’s Cafe last night, a short interlude during errands, fueled by hot chocolate, the moment provided space to reflect on Thanksgiving and what giving thanks really means to me.

As a kid, Thanksgiving Day was always about food and hanging out in front of the television with my dad and uncles watching the Detroit Lions lose to someone. The fine china came out and I usually had to polish the seldom used silver for this special event. The entire family played their roles as the warm and familiar event unfolded each year.

I don’t remember giving thanks for anything though. At least not consciously.

Fast forward 55 years and Thanksgiving Day has a different meaning. I’m fully aware of how grateful I am for the bounty of physical, emotional and spiritual gifts that have been bestowed upon me and my family. I’m grateful that I can accept the days as they come and that pain as well as happiness are part of life. My job is simple — to stay present and experience what unfolds each day.Continue Reading

Perfect Riding Season

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Vespa GTS scooter on a foggy, fall morningFog and Vespa

Fog, my favorite, along with dropping temperatures, all part of the the perfect riding season.  Yesterday morning a meandering ride to work offered a chance to see the world looking slightly different.  Unusual.  A feat considering how many hundreds of times I’ve ridden along the same path.  Still, I’m seeing things differently.

And feeling different.

Fall quickens my senses. It heightens desire and illuminates mortality as I recognize the passing of time marked by the movement of the season and the slow run up to the sleep of winter.  All of it, the chill in the air, the shift in light and the change in color work together to make this the perfect riding season.

For me.

The Vespa has been performing flawlessly almost as if it’s woken up and screaming for a more satisfying time on the road.  We’re a perfect match, the scooter and I, and I wonder how I ever thought a motorcycle could add anything to my experience of the world.

Many have tried…

Vespa GTS scooter in fall lightChanges in Light, Changes in Me

Riding home from work, even in bright sun, feels different.  My eyes sense the change in the angle of light, the sun’s position in the sky when I leave the parking lot.

I know autumn has arrived.

I act differently than I do in the warmer days of summer.  I want to ride — feel the desire in my bones.  Even if only the for the few miles of commuting.  I take detours.  Stop and take off my helmet to let the sun heat my face.  I’m like a man who’s journeyed through a desert and finds a pool of cool water.

That soaring of spirit and the illusion of freedom, if only for an instant —  that’s why I ride.

The scooter is waiting again.  It’s a new day of the perfect riding season.

Independence Day

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Steve Williams reflected in a traffic mirror on Calder AlleyIndependence Day 2016

There’s probably a near endless list of things that give meaning to Independence Day in the United States.  Flags fly and millions enjoy the national holiday commemorating the adoption of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776, by the Continental Congress declaring that the thirteen American colonies regarded themselves as a new nation, the United States of America, and no longer part of the British Empire.

No small feat and one worth remembering.  Amidst the fireworks for sale and the frenzy of cookouts and family gatherings it’s hard to imagine the topic of the Continental Congress comes up much.

On my way to Saint’s Cafe this morning I wondered what it all meant.

Vespa GTS scooter with armored personnel carrierVespa and the United States Army

Don’t let the perspective in the photo fool you — that armored personnel carrier is bigger and tougher than the scooter.  Speed may be the only advantage for the Vespa.

As the parade elements began to gather this morning I wasn’t sure if this vehicle was there for the parade or because of the parade.  With anxiety and fear gripping segments of the country in regard to terror it’s hard to know what’s part of a new system of security.  Or what it all has to do with the fourth of July.

Revolutionary War VeteranRevolutionary War Veteran

The markings on the tombstone are unreadable now but a Revolutionary War Veteran lays at rest in the Boalsburg Cemetery.  I like to think he had a clearer understanding of the meaning of July 4, 1776 and what freedom meant.

Are we celebrating a day or an idea?

Saint's CafeIdle Time at Saint’s Cafe

It’s easy for me to think of freedom as being able to do what I want.  Passing time doing nothing in a cafe. It’s a free country after all.  A notion responsible for a wide range of selfish behavior.  Or just a life led in seductive oblivion. A self-centered view of the world that American Revolutionary Thomas Paine suggested could be a problem:

Those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom must, like men, undergo the fatigue of supporting it.

The fatigue of supporting it.  I bet that means more than saying the pledge of allegiance or going to watch the fireworks.  And it’s about more than fighting wars and battles.  John Adams, the second President of the United States and a leader of the American Revolution hinted at a greater responsibility in preserving our liberty:

Liberty cannot be preserved without general knowledge among the people.

As I worked through the day I wondered about the charge for knowledge and how often it appears our elected and would be elected representatives operate knowing how little attention the electorate pays to the machinations of the system the provides our freedom.

Perhaps that’s what Abraham Lincoln, perhaps the best President to ever serve this country, thought about the dangers of the people not engaging the system we have:

America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves.

In celebration of Independence Day, I’ve started to read about this country I love.

Lost in a Vespa Ride

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Vespa GTS scooter on a winding wet road

Thrill of Departure

At the beginning of every Vespa ride an electric thrill travels through my body. It’s short and fleeting, but in that moment I have no cares or worries; I’m smiling and alive. It happens at the start of of adventures and is the same for a short errand. The feeling should not be confused with the joy of riding — something quite different and longer lasting. The thrill I speak of is a direct connection between the mind and soul.

Or so I like to think.

A heavy blanket of gray covered the valley this morning. White clouds of fog draped along the mountain ridges and the air was thick with rain that would not fall. The Vespa scooter and I moved slowly away from home and on into the unknown; a lack of meaning, direction or concern for the rain that might bring danger to a rider with new tires, the shiny, slippery factory coating still in place threatening a sizable loss of traction on wet roads.

On we went, riding, lost in a world of gray.

Vespa GTS scooter along small farm lane

Learning to let go

I used to make plans; routes, timetables, destinations and all the related trappings of someone who refuses to let life unfold at its own pace. Often now, the ride takes shape mile by mile, like scenes in a movie, leading me along it’s own unique story. Time and circumstance have brought this about. There can be no disappointment or failure when you have no goals or expectations.

Wandering along farm lanes and country roads frees the mind from the cat and mouse game with traffic and gives it a chance to rest.

Vespa GTS scooter along a rural road on a gray day

Love of the road

No matter how many times I’ve been down a road, I’m happy to embrace it one more time. It must be love.  I do look forward to new territory and the excitement of discovering what’s around the next bend.  But without taking some longer trips that’s becoming a more challenging goal.

And I’m beginning to wonder if goals are much use in my personal life.

Vespa GTS250 scooter on a farm lane

Seduced by the Vespa

There are a wide range of motorcycles and scooters I could be riding. But I drank the Vespa Kool-Aid.  It’s really hard for me to imagine something different in this photograph even though I can quickly name a half dozen motorcycles better suited for gravel road riding.  But the Vespa is a perfect dance partner.

The scooter is running great after the it’s recent service.  I still need to repaint the muffler and have to add some Super Glue to a slipping heated grip on the throttle.  The grip uses a friction fit but I recall the installation instructions indicating sometimes a drop or two of glue may be needed.

A drop or two of glue is needed.

And so is a Vespa ride.