Scooter in the Sticks

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

Karma and Coincidence

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Vespa GTS scooter at sunsetGrand View of the World

It’s been one year since I had a heart attack.  The road since has been a scenic tour of the countless expressions of life racing by minute by minute and a vast collection of moments that make a life.  Riding home last night from the Moto Hang I had to stop to make one more photography of my Vespa scooter against the background of a painted sky just after the sun went down.

I’ve wondered more than a few times during the past year why I keep photographing the scooter.  For a long time I told myself I needed the pictures for my blog.  But I know now there’s something else at work.  Perhaps the scooter is me, standing in the world and acknowledging time and place, creating reminders of where I’ve been and where I’m going.

There’s some karma and coincidence in play.  A year since a heart attack, a full moon approaching overhead, and here I am writing the 1000th post on Scooter in the Sticks.

There’s no way to know what tomorrow will bring but for the past year I’ve looked forward to each day, each ride, each gift that comes my way.  Riding a Vespa through the countryside brings everything into focus and leaves me breathless for the next mile.

It’s been quite a party…

 

Courage or Insanity

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icy road surface with tire tracksThe morning brought central Pennsylvania’s dreaded “wintry mix” — a combination of rain, sleet, snow and freezing rain in a constantly changing mix.  During my walk with Junior the road surface changed from dry to wet to the amalgam in the above photo.  Definitely not the kind of weather I venture out into on the Vespa and certainly not on Aleta’s relatively pristine Yamaha Vino.

Running errands had the tires continually spinning on the Honda Fit with the traction control and ABS lights flashing repeatedly.  Traffic was light to non-existent as those not wishing to succumb to any Darwinian adjustments stayed home by the fire.

My last errand brought me to Rite-Aid Pharmacy and to my surprise there was a dripping, Bintelli Sprint 49cc scooter parked on the sidewalk.  “Cool” was my first thought while wondering who inside would claim ownership.  A closer look revealed a handicapped license plate which led second thoughts of courage or insanity.

Inside the owner was approaching, bright red 3/4 helmet on and one of those frightening, demonic skull masks covering the lower part of the face.  An eclectic combination of a big, hooded parka, blaze orange vest, camouflage gloves, jeans, and black boots hinted that the rider used their scooter for utilitarian transport with little thought about the style and convention of the riding fashionista companies that consume a lot of us.  The jury was still out on courage or insanity.

After an initial comment, “Quite a day to be on a scooter,” a conversation ensued that was both intriguing and frightening.  Allow me to begin…

It was a dark and icy day.  All the riders were home snug in their caves.  But one rider was on the road, using his scooter to retrieve required medications,  and take care of a friend’s dog.  He had already ridden twelve miles in the icy mess and had displayed the soaking wet pants from knees down due to the constant out-rigging of his boots to stay upright.  I know the technique and it’s tedious and tiring.  At this point I was leaning towards the courageous side of courage or insanity.

But there was the matter of the handicapped plate.  The rider shared his conversion from four-wheels to two which hinted at financial need.  The scooter was his daily transportation.  He also related the incredulity he faces when people try and balance a handicap with a two-wheeled scooter.  Listening I was saying to myself “emotional or mental handicap of some sort,” though the conversation did not reveal any hints of this.  Then the facts emerged.

Nerve damage affecting both arms to the point they could not reliably be used unless a surgical intervention took place.  Current status has several vertebrate fused and a titanium plate and rod keeping the neck together.  “Nerves are like bare wires,” made me cringe as he discussed how sudden jerks and movements could impair movement or cause permanent damage.  I’m now moving towards the insanity side of the courage or insanity balance.

And then he becomes quiet for a moment and says, “I want to live my life.”

The statement hangs in the air like a slowly fading smoke ring until I reply, “I understand.”

And then he went outside and was gone.  When I left a few minutes later I could see his single track across the parking lot with his boot marks dragging along side.

And I’m still wondering now if it’s courage or insanity.

 

Karma and a Riding Misadventure

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Maybe I watched too many episodes of My Name is Earl. I figured if I did something nice for someone Karma would take care of me and that winning lottery ticket would blow up against my riding boot. Sitting on the back of my friend Paul’s truck at the end of the day 60 miles from home I was rethinking the Earl model.

I have been on vacation during the holidays but until yesterday didn’t really take a long ride and with the weather warming into the 40’s I figured now was the time, especially since I just did all the maintenance on the scooter. I departed around 9AM under cloudy skies and a 28° F temperature. The grass and cars were covered in frost but the road was dry. I bundled up in my riding gear and was off. I had my Mamiya 7 camera along to shoot some black and white landscape pictures — the official start of a new project. The plan was to explore some really open spaces along Nittany and Sinking valleys. The sun was trying to push through the cloud cover creating a glow in the sky and on the frost covered fields.


While shooting this picture a gentleman from a nearby home trotted over to ask about the Vespa and share that he had an ET4. What better omen for a great ride than running into a fellow Vespa owner! We talked for a few minutes and then I was off towards the more remote sections of the valley.


The light continued to glow and warm. Stopping to take pictures, pulling off my mittens and exposing them to the cold air was taking it’s toll on hand warmth though and it wasn’t long before I would preheat them on the headlight before pulling the mittens back on. There were a lot of neat little spots along the way including this old garage covered in signs and license plates.


I have passed it many times and always wanted to stop to make a picture. And these silos seemed to jump out at me when I went by requiring another stop for the big camera and a quick snapshot with the digital camera too.


I had decided to ride into Tyrone for lunch when a tractor-trailer driver flagged me down. He had a paper in his hand so I figured he was more interested in directions than in the Vespa. Two Vespa encounters in one day were too much to expect. The driver and his 14000 pounds of seed were lost and worse the place he was trying to find was about as hidden away as possible around here. I lent him my cell phone so he could get directions and as I watched his look become more puzzled and frustrated I asked for the phone. After a few minutes I determined exactly where the delivery point was and that this guy from Indiana would never find it. What else could I do but volunteer to lead him there. It was only about 10 miles in the opposite direction that I was now headed but heck I am always up for a change in plans. So he jumps into the cab and I get on the scooter and hit the starter button and it just whirrs. “Dead battery” flashes in my head. I get off and hit the kick-starter (yes, the Vespa LX150 still has a kickstart) a few times and the engine starts and off we go.

It was a nice ride especially with an eighteen-wheel escort behind me that didn’t want to run me down. Once we hit the dirt roads though I was kind and he had a hard time keeping up. I had to stop a few times to make sure he was still there. We arrive at the agricultural enterprise and they are glad I led the truck there. It occurred to me then that they would have come and got him if I hadn’t volunteered to lead him. Turned out that I was glad I did because I found some roads and places that were fine riding and offered lots of photo possibilities for my new project. The farmers have put up their snow fences but we haven’t had any snow yet. They do make for nice pictures.

Lunch was out of the question now until I got to Altoona that lay over the far ridge and 12 miles to the left.


I was smart enough at this point to not shut the engine off when I was taking pictures. I figured I would check things out when I got to Altoona. The really smart rider would have ridden home to troubleshoot in his or her own garage. An hour later I pull into my in-laws driveway and go inside for a fantastic meatball sandwich.

The fun begins now as I try and get the Vespa running for the trip home. I had it in my head that the starter would not engage because the battery was low. Swapped the battery from my father-in-law’s ET4 and the same thing. And my battery started his scooter fine. At this point I ask to use the computer and post on the Modern Vespa site for help and receive immediate help from the Technical Moderator Gary that I should run down the ground to make sure it is solid. He helped me troubleshoot but as the afternoon waned I figured it was time to truck the scooter home. I called my friend Paul who graciously offered to drive his truck 60 miles to get the scooter and me. Here you can see Paul on the left with my father-in-law Bob.


They both did a lot to try and get the Vespa running. We loaded up and headed for gas and a bite to eat, the least I could do.

It was dark when we left and suddenly we have no headlights on the truck. I’m beginning to wonder now what I’m being punished for. Karma is not with me. It wasn’t until we got home that Kim put things in perspective for me. It was a great ride, I did a good deed, I met another Vespa rider, I had the opportunity to be with family, a good friend showed his friendship, I was home safe, and perhaps there was a reason for not riding home. Kim pointed out what I couldn’t see because I was focused on what I wanted—the scooter to start—and wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. This wasn’t a misadventure but another adventure. It’s all in the way you look at things.

The scooter is in the garage and the heater is running. Another adventure awaits.