Scooter in the Sticks

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

Riding in Pennsylvania’s Magnificent Forests

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Looking up into the forest canopy.
Peering up into a canopy of hemlock and fir trees.

Surrounded by Trees

Every rider finds themselves blessed (or cursed) by where they live. Long ago I knew living in the middle of the vast forest lands of central Pennsylvania was a gift.

In 1681, when King Charles II gave a nearly 29-million-acre expanse of old-growth trees to William Penn, clearing a Royal debt and ridding the Crown of a troublesome Quaker religious movement by sending them across the Atlantic, I’m enjoying the benefits of that deal today.

Nearly 60 percent of Pennsylvania is still forested and provides a seemingly endless supply of dirt and gravel roads to explore. And for me, they begin just two miles from my front door. For my friend Paul and I, those roads are always beckoning.

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Latin Lessons, Breakfast and Other Riding Pleasures

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If I had a quarter for every time I was asked “Can a scooter ride with a motorcycle?”…

The answer is simple — yes, and no.

On this morning last week my Vespa was an acceptable riding companion to Paul Ruby’s BMW K1200GT despite the gap in size and power.  In this case the riding styles of the riders matched making the machines incidental to the ride.  No freeway tricks or backroad racing involved, just a leisurely 38 mile tour through the woods on the way to breakfast.

Paul dispatched some trash from the road which offended his view in the pristine landscape.  I can’t remember ever seeing a rider police litter during a ride, myself included.  Only took a few minutes to gather, stow in the sidecase, and return to the ride.
Positive Karma points involved.

The woodlands and waterways in Black Moshannon State Park are more like the arboreal forests of Maine than the typical Pennsylvania ones.  The last flowers are blooming on the lilypads before everything recedes into fall and then the cold of winter.

Speaking of motorcycles and scooters mixing — there’s a reason why the BMW isn’t in this picture.  Fine, soft gravel provides uncertain footing for the big bike where the scooter, while no dirt bike, is easier to flog without fear of dumping.

My wife is the naturalist in the house, by temperament, training and love.  I know this plant as Doll’s Eyes.  She does too but consistently shocks me with her encyclopedic knowledge of scientific names (in Latin) of plants as Actaea Alba flows from her lips. I tell myself I’m smart in other ways.

On rides like this I wish she had a Vespa and we could ride together…

Ruby and I arrive at the Retro Eatery in Philipsburg, Pennsylvania for breakfast — hungry. It’s a great place to eat and not what I would expect to find in P Burg.  If you’re out that way it’s worth a visit.

Paul always investigates the menu and engages in a range of culinary evaluations.  Regardless of where we are though the end result is the same: waffles and bacon.

I’ve never questioned the choice.  Some things are private.

After breakfast we made a quick stop at my entrepreneurial enterprise that promises to make my retirement years profitable and comfortable.  I see new socks and underwear in my future.

We took the long way home — a 50 mile trek across the edge of the Allegheny Plateau until we descended into Bald Eagle Valley and the beginning of the ridge and valley section of Pennsylvania.  The abrupt changes in natural and geologic landscapes are a pleasure to experience and with the tutelage of my loving wife I see a lot more than I used to.

Just not in Latin.