Scooter in the Sticks

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

Scooter Minimalism

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Vespa GTS scooter in a farm landscape
Gazing at life.

Simple Riding Experience

It’s difficult to not be swept up in the idea of simplicity when riding a Vespa scooter.  Or think life will magically improve if it wasn’t so complicated.  When I’m riding, my cares and concerns seem to magically evaporate in the wind.  But however sturdy that illusion, I know it’s not true. The cares and concerns are there waiting when I return.  And the man I was when I departed returns as well.

Still, there may be something to that dream of simplicity, a sort of scooter minimalism.

Civilians don’t understand. Once they complete their admonishments of catastrophe and death when referring to scooters and motorcycles, I sometimes wonder if they’re envious on some level, harboring a secret yearning for the simplicity that they think two wheels represents.  Regardless of how insane or dangerous they might think riding is, they sense what seems to them like a life without care or concern.

As I stared down the valley, past my Vespa, it’s easy to embrace that dream.

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Turning a Page

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Vespa GTS scooter on forest road.
On the road into the unknown.

A Slap in the Face

This past year has seen the world struggle. No amount of riding could free me from concern for myself, my family, and those I love. As much as I want to believe that today, the start of a new year, will be different, it’s merely turning the page in the middle of a long novel. There is no magic today, no sudden cleansing of the world. What was bearing down yesterday remains today.

I have faith that the future will be bright, that suffering will ease and those things that provided pleasure and joy will return. But not today. The same struggle goes on for some time to come.

When I looked at the photograph of my Vespa in the forest just two months ago, I’m reminded of how exciting it is to peer into the unknown. Not knowing what lays ahead. Not sure what I’ll encounter. I have that same feeling now as I embrace the start of 2021.

I pray each of you reading these words will find hope and solace amidst whatever challenges you face.

Why I Ride a Vespa Scooter

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Forest road
Quiet forest roads are one explanation of why I ride a Vespa scooter.

Exploration, Meditation, and Contemplation

Anyone who has spent much time reading my posts is aware that they touch on the mental and emotional experience of riding. I don’t often spend much time on the machine itself or the reasons why I ride a Vespa scooter.

A simple question. One that I can only answer for myself. And as I’ve shared before, what might make sense for me could have poor results for you. So with that caveat I’ll share my answer to “Why ride a Vespa scooter?”

The photograph of the gravel forest road I traveled recently hints as a reason. Depending on your goals and temperament, this same stretch of road can call on completely different machines. Some may see it as an opportunity to bomb forward as fast as possible, feeling the machine through turns and over bumps, and managing feelings of control over the environment. A perfectly fine approach if speed and control are your goals.

For me, this road presents an opportunity to slow down, explore, and release as much of the tension and noise from my body and mind as possible.

My scooter is perfectly matched for these intentions. Easy to ride, simple in operation, and as silent and invisible as I can get with something powered by an internal combustion engine.

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Riding in the Zombie Apocalypse

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BMW K75 motorcycle on rural road
A BMW K75 motorcycle in the zombie apocalypse.

Reality in the Bright Sun

Can I outrun the advancing zombies on my motorcycle? Those words echo in the darker chasms of my mind, a river of fear flows through the abyss and I’ve slowly overcome by a fever of fear and anxiety. Far above there’s panic in the world. And the only treatment, or at least the one I reach for first is to go for a ride.

Riding imparts a quiet solitidue in my head. It can wash away the darkness and leave me standing in the sunlight, upright, calm and with a renewed perspective on the day. Or at least that’s my hope as I push the BMW K75 out of the garage.

I’m attracted to stories containing threads of melancholy and loss; especially in literature and movies. Irresistible forces and frightening odds with a protaginest who emerges beaten and bruises, heavy with grief yet triumphant as a representative of all that’s good with humanity. It’s never been clear to me why I’m attracted to these stories. I’m neither a hero in life or in the fantasies that drift through dream and consciousness.

It’s early morning with dazzling sunlight, welcomed after so many days of a monotone grayness that whispers to crawl into bed and go to sleep. The motorcycle moves smoothly along the highway as I head south along the front ridge of the Appalachian Mountains. It’s colder than I thought it would be, a few degrees below freezing, and my feet producing a dull ache as they give way to the cold. Another stop, this time for fuel and some time indoors to allow my body to warm.

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Words of Reflection

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Christmas wreath hanging in Saint's Cafe in State College, PA.
A wreath in the window of Saint’s Cafe.

Quiet Moments

My dog Junior is lying at my feet. The sound of a soft exhale of breath as he prepares to descend into sleep. The ceiling is splashed with green and red lights from the laser projector outside which paints our house in a festive sparkle and shoots through the livingroom window to add the effect indoors. The room, and myself, are quiet. A fine time to write a few words of reflection.

I’m tired, a soft ache through most of my body, a result of the head cold which insistently pushes me toward the bed and the gentle escape of sleep. But first I wanted to tap a few words of reflection

Sitting here now, a cup of tea and a few ginger cookies to provide emergency fuel, I recognize the satisfaction and serenity of this moment. And of the gratitude I feel for this life. Perhaps the Christmas season continues to work on head and heart.

Norman Vincent Peale, author of the Power of Positive Thinking, once commented on the power of the season, “Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.”

I can’t disagree. I remain under the influence of its magic. Wandering through State College, Pennsylvania, I see icons of the holiday season. The wreath in the window of Saint’s Cafe reminds me of how many things, great and small, for which to be grateful.

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