Scooter in the Sticks

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

Exploring Life

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Does riding a scooter or motorcycle allow you to appreciate the small things?

exploring life graphicA comment on a previous post by Dar, author of the Princess Scooterpie; Adventures of a Motorcycle Diva blog, suggested that riding changes you in small ways.  I’ve been turning that over in my head for awhile and believe that’s absolutely true in many cases if not most.  Certainly it’s true for me.  And it has changed my appreciation of the world.  In short, riding has helped me become a better exploring life.

I see the change during my rides to work.

Vespa GTS scooter in the fogSeeing fog out the bedroom window stirs an excitement I can only associate with youth — those times as a kid where presents or adventures were imminent.  Having just turned 61 it’s satisfying to know I still get excited by the little things.  And that wasn’t always the case.  Before I started to ride I missed the details of living.  Not sure how it happened but it did.

Riding through the morning fog I was aware of the changing flows of air, of temperature and fragrance.  Everything seems fresh and alive along the way — the utility poles disappearing in the distance and the sweeping yellow lines on the road.  I know they don’t mean anything but I see them.

The only fog is outside my head.

trees in the fogI write a lot about riding alone.  Standing in a field looking at these trees is a reason why.  I just wanted to look at the shapes against the foggy sky, the fences stretching across the field, the muted greens and yellows before me.  With another rider along I would probably not stop, not want to explain what I was looking for, or illuminate the trance I can find myself.

These scenes are part of exploring life.  They’re the noise and the music that remind me I’ve alive and walking on the earth.

Vespa GTS scooter with horsesOne last stop before riding on to the hospital and cardiac rehab.  If riding helps me see the little things, appreciate what’s all around me, if it’s pushing me to explore life, I have to say it doesn’t stop when I park the scooter.

In cardiac rehab I’ve watched myself respond to the gentle pushing and prodding of the staff to explore the boundaries by my heart attack recovery.  They’re testing my limits much in the same manner that I test them on the Vespa in snow or rain.  And I’ve learned to pay attention, watch and process experience into something useful.

I wonder if I’m alone in this kind of experience?  Are other riders in their head as much as I seem to be or are they just roaring on to work or on a little trip without much thought to anything?

How much has your scooter or motorcycle helped you to explore life?

 

Wishes for a New Year

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2015 New Year's greetings from Scooter in the Sticks

As the new year unfolds before us I wanted to take a moment to wish everyone a happy and safe new year both on and off the road.  I hesitate making resolutions, mostly because as I review my journals written over the years (40 years worth) I see the same things come up — eat better, exercise more, and pay more attention to life.

So I suppose my resolutions are cast in concrete.

Best wishes for a New Year!

Peace on Earth

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I saw this Christmas video posted on the Modern Vespa forum this evening and it reminded me of how I wish things were in the world. One hundred years have passed since men waged battles in the trenches of Europe. While wars continue, the spark of human hope and imagination persists that seeks peace on earth and that one day the world will be a better place.

May this video remind you of the dream as well.

UPDATE:  After reading the comments on the video I remembered the song “Children’s Crusade” by Sting done in the 1980s.  It’s a powerful follow to the above video.

Triggering Curiosity

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Usually a ride on the Vespa cures any ill, the acceleration into flight strips away concerns and distractions and transforms darkness into light — at least with the normal noise and chaos of living. Riding can trigger curiosity and change my whole outlook on life.  Saturday morning found me on the road, dodging the raindrops, pushing the scooter onto he little narrow paths that crisscross the area, focusing on the challenges of dirt and gravel, mud and water.

Whenever my mind’s not right I slip off onto less traveled roads to explore and let my mind wander in new directions.  Rain threatened all morning as I passed across the valley towards a series of chores.  The drama of the landscape never fails to excite, even on these little rides.

Vespa scooter moving in darkness to light in an idyllic landscape near Penn State University
Mount Nittany looms in the middle of Happy Valley, a familiar icon for the Penn State faithful.  As a young geology student I learning it was an inverted, truncated geosyncline.  Or something like that.   It’s been 42 years since hearing those words so I could have mixed them up a bit.

Vespa scooter on small gravel lane

Everything is so lush right now with the consistent rain we’ve had this summer.  Little pathways wind through tunnels of foliage and provide endless opportunities to explore without needing to travel very far.  The only complaint I have is it only takes a few moments for the Black Flies to find you.  Those beasts get into your helmet and can drive you a little nuts.

Vespa scooter in a tunnel

A last stop in a wet, dank tunnel beneath Interstate 99 before surrendering to the necessities of the day.  Looking at this picture I’m reminded again at how little riding I actually get done because I’m in a constant search for things to look at which for me means stopping.  Some riders make 5o miles in an hour.  More often than not I’ll only accomplish 10.  Or less.  Someone once referred to me as a dawdler though I thought it more accurate to be identified as a curious toddler.

No wonder a motorcycle doesn’t make much sense.

Gerbing Electric Gloves: A Pleasant Surprise

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My electric gloves are dead.  They died a slow death over the past couple months but last week during an 8F morning ride I knew they were done.

My friend Paul gave them to me for Christmas in 2007 and in the subsequent four years they have seen a lot of use; probably more than most riders ever use them.  I wrote of that joy in a post titled 18F and Gerbing Electric Gloves. 
As I was preparing to toss them in the trash I decided to check to see if the heating elements could be repaired.  Or even easier a bad connector.  Being of sound mind I retrieved a little used multimeter from the toolbox and set to work to determine if something was wrong with the gloves themselves or the connector coming from the battery.
A strong arc on one of the probes indicated to me that I was getting power to the connector so I abandoned that line of research.
A quick continuity check on the gloves themselves indicated failures in both.  Checking for repair service on Gerbing’s web site indicated a lifetime warranty on the heating elements.  A LIFETIME WARRANTY!
My sense of joy was dashed when I read that I would have needed to register the purchase four years earlier.
Shit — I never register anything.  Still, I had to try.
An extremely pleasant voice answered the phone at Gerbing customer service.  I described the problem and asked about repair service since I knew I hadn’t registered the gloves.  When the woman on the other end of the line said she would check in the database to see if I was registered I knew I was done.  A new Aerostich catalog had just arrived, maybe they have some new electric gloves.
“Steve Williams” I sheepishly responded when asked for my name.
“Gee, we have a lot of Steve Williams’s in our database.” she replied.  
Williams is a terrible name to have if you’re trying to get a handgun or wade through registrations of any type.  The first because mostly we’re criminals and second because there are so many of us.
“What state do you live in?” was her next question.  
When I answered she proceeded to recite my address, phone number, place of employment, blood type, sexual preference and favorite chocolate.  I looked out the window and thought I saw the sunrise.
“Holy shit,” I thought. “I must have registered the gloves.”  
Great news from Gerbing.  They gave me a return number and said they would either restore the gloves to their previous toasty state or replace them with a brand new pair.
A real surprise to someone who is always expecting to get ripped off at every turn by capitalists everywhere except for L.L. Bean and Walmart.  Always bring Vaseline to Best Buy.
So the gloves are now in Tumwater, Washington and I am roughing it with conventional gloves until they return.  So far the temperature hasn’t dropped below 25F, easily managed for the comute to work.  But longer rides will have me on my knees praying at the muffler.
Still, I’m a happy camper.  I’m getting something for free!