Scooter in the Sticks

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

The Pleasure of Being Lost

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This past Sunday morning was remarkably clear — bright, crisp, the world a surreal stage on which my friend Paul Ruby and I were riding our scooters. Abandoning our normal meeting at Saint’s Cafe we veered north towards Beech Creek, Pennsylvania, a 30 mile ride for our breakfast.

Easy riding through the broad Bald Eagle valley and along the lake at Bald Eagle State Park was a quiet reminder of how simple life can feel on my Vespa.  Paul abandoned his BMW K1200 in favor of a Piaggio Fly 150.  Sometimes less is much more.

After donning a liner to my jacket — the air temperature was hovering at 62F — it was time to eat.  Or so demanded my stomach.

I don’t come to Beech Creek often and when I do it’s just to pass through on the way to somewhere else.  The Furst Corner Restaurant deserves more allegiance.  How many places can I say serves more bacon than I can eat?

After breakfast a decision was made to take a scenic route home and I suggested a road along the west side of the valley that would wind the 15 miles to Milesburg.  Turning right towards Orviston would lead us to the road I thought I knew.

A few words about Orviston…

My knowledge is limited of the place which is nestled in the far northern end of Centre County seemingly lost at the end of a road far from anything.  I remember stopping there over 10 years ago at a little store which was part of the livingroom of a house to get something to drink.  All they had was chocolate milk.  More than a few of the houses had padlocks on the front doors. I thought it odd then and expected the same now.

Perhaps it was the light or things had changed but Orviston seemed a fine little town of 95 people.

On this day I never planned to be in Orviston but rather turn off towards home on some other road.

My cartographic memory failed me at Orviston.  I neither found the road or knew which way to go.  After a momentary pause to consider returning the way we came or to head up a little dirt track marked only by a sign “No Winter Maintenance” I motioned to Paul towards the path less traveled.

As the trail climbed up the mountain and the ride rougher I had absolutely no idea where I was or where we were going.  For someone who’s life is full of planning and careful consideration of strategy and tactics it was an absolutely electric feeling to be disconnected from everything.

The pleasure of being lost is rare in Central Pennsylvania, at least for me.  As Paul and I raced our scooters along a path more suited for a dirt bike I remembered why I have little interest in a GPS.  There is little primitive or wild available easily to me and a GPS would obliterate any chance like the one presented on this ride.

A view looking down the mountain road.  Steep and not the easiest to negotiate with a CVT transmission.  Loose gravel and unexpected washboard and rocks made several miles of riding that was outside the norm for the Vespa.

Emerging onto pavement on the other side of the mountain near Polecat Road I passed Paul who was riding standing up in what I could only assume was a gesture of triumph.  A half mile up the road, still unsure or where I was, a came upon a coyote standing in the middle of the road, a tall animal, lank, staring and glittering a warm brown in the sun.  As I slowed he walked off the road into a thicket of scrub trees.

And me, lost and seeing that coyote — how could I ask anything more of the world?

The pleasure of being lost…

Rebirth

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Morning, a fine ride tarnished by the familiar nagging that something isn’t right, something important forgotten or ignored — like waking from a dream that I forgot to go to a class for an entire semester.

I was searching for something along the narrow lane — an idea, a thought, perhaps a feeling. Listening to a red-winged blackbird’s sharp note and trill as the sun burned through the fog altered a mental path, a welcome release from an obstinate mix of thought and emotion.

I could enjoy being alive.

Later, looking at this picture I thought about how powerful a morning can be — visually, psychically, emotionally.  And then I remembered this quote:

“Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.” ― Mahatma Gandhi

And so the road rolls on…

Perseverance, Weakness and the Question of Riding

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Vespa GTS scooter along wet rural road

The sound of rain falling as sleep fades and the day takes form draws pictures in my head — of mystical worlds shrouded in sheets of water and mist on some mornings, and others, like today, of toil and drudgery as I drag my mind and body through the relentless discomfort the weather presents.

Today I awoke to the latter.  Standing along the road with my little camera, happy and recognizing the fragile nature of being alive, how could I let a little rain move my mind into a state of reluctance at donning some riding gear for a handsome journey to work?

Vespa GTS scooter on farm road in the rain

The rain was fell lightly during the ride as the clouds thinned across the valley.  An hour earlier the only reasonable choice for commuting was the van and it’s steel and glass encasement isolating me from the world.

In 10 months I’ll commence my sixth decade on earth and the event gives rise to questions of age and waning strength and perseverance in the face of resistance.  I take comfort in the example set by a neighborhood bicyclist who pedals into town daily throughout the year — and he must be in his 90s.

Vespa GTS scooter on rural farm landscape in rain

So I managed another ride to work with a few detours and diversions and the inevitable whispering of “take the day off and ride…”.

Instead a last picture of a round bale in the lane and onward towards Penn State’s Beaver Stadium and the office.

It was a good day to ride.

Learning from Moto-Bloggers

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Steve Williams with his Vespa GTS scooter
Can you see how I’ve changed as a result of meeting three Canadian moto-bloggers at the beginning of August?  (Answer at the bottom of the page)
Meeting people whose skills and experience stretch far beyond my own is always a pleasure and I mark my good fortune at having the opportunity to talk with them.  I’ve met a handful of moto-bloggers since Scooter in the Sticks was born in 2005 and the lessons learned continue to inform what I do today.
In March of 2011 I had the opportunity to meet Dom Chang (Charlie6), author of Redleg’s Rides, while at a conference in Denver, Colorado.  I came away from that encounter with a better understanding of what commitment meant, drive, focus, passion and dogged persistence in the riding world can mean.  When I find myself stuck, unmotivated or generally floundering I’ll often say to myself, “What would Dom do?”.  No small gift from a moto-blogger.
And one other example — meeting Jack Riepe, author of Twisted Roads by Jack Riepe, at the BMW International Rally in Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania.  Riepe (officially pronounced “reep — eeee”) was presenting conducting a writing workshop at the event for less competent, capable or inventive moto-bloggers which pretty much means anyone currently writing in that genre. I left the event knowing how far my writing exists from real storytelling.  Always good for me to get a clear picture of where I sit.  And since that time I’ve come to call Mr. Riepe a friend.
So on to the arrival of David Masse from Montreal, author of Life on Two Wheels, the Scoot Commute; Bob Leong (aka bobskoot) from Vancouver, author of Riding the Wet Coast; and Karen (aka V Star Lady) from Ontario, author of Motorcycle Touring – Riding on my V Star.
Bob Leong's crocs

The pink Crocs on the sidewalk next to a BMW motorcycle are a dead giveaway to the presence of bobskoot.  Those shoes thread through many pictures on his blog and represent a sort of emblematic representation of him for me.

Vespa GTS300 scooter with motorcycles

The three converged on State College, Pennsylvania to meet me and I had hoped to show them some of the more exotic riding routes that a rider wouldn’t find without some assistance.  Unfortunately, unforeseen circumstances meant I was only able to spend a few hours with them over the two days they were in town.

Bob Leong, Paul Ruby, David Masse and Karen - aka V-Star Lady.
Breakfast at the Corner Room in State College.  Bob, Paul, David and Karen posed for a quick portrait before I had to leave town.  Thankfully Paul Ruby was able to serve as host and show them around the area.  Bob and David had appointments with Kissell Motorsports to have some things serviced on their machines so the days were full.
But on to the lessons learned from these three riders.

David Masse and his Vespa scooter

Let’s start with David who is standing here with his Vespa at the KOA Campground in Bellefonte.

He probably doesn’t realize how strongly his attitude towards safety and care of his Vespa affected me.  When I rode out to visit with them before they departed for Maine my focus on the mechanical state of the Vespa and personal protection in terms of gear was in a state of flux.  Looking at the improvements and upgrades to lighting, horn, and other aspects of the scooter along with his steady commitment to riding with all the protective gear in place (ATGATT) affected me strongly.  Since then I have returned to riding with ALL the gear AND I have had all the outstanding service completed on my scooter, actually washed the Vespa, and have been investigating some of the safety upgrades he has implemented.

Thank you David for the example you’ve set.

Karen and Bob checking the air in a tire

I didn’t really know Karen but she mirrored David’s commitment to safety and the machine and it was obvious she paid careful attention to detail.  Here she is checking tire pressure utilizing a little battery powered air pump that bobskoot developed.  I chuckled at the time but his focus on gadgets influenced me to spend some money.

Bob showed me some incredible photographic tools that would make my photographic life on the road simpler — namely a useful, carbon fiber tripod and a wireless shutter release device that will open a new realm of possible photos.  I’ll post in the future more specific information about these items but suffice to say that I learned a lot from Bob in the short time we spent together.

All three riders are serious and pile up miles.  Bob has just returned home to Vancouver after looping through North America from Pacific to Atlantic and back.  You can see his route on SpotWalla to get a better idea of the epic ride he made.

I want to say thank you to Bob, David and Karen for sharing their experience and wish there would have been more time available so we could have taken a ride through some of the beautiful landscape of central Pennsylvania.

ANSWER: I’m wearing armored pants again.  Rather than letting the summer heat force my only pair — ones designed for winter riding — off, I purchased a vented pair for summer.  And the self portrait was made with the camera on a nifty new carbon fiber portable tripod (no more searching for the perfect tree stump or fence post) and using a great wireless shutter release.  Stay tuned for specific details on a future post.

Lesson in Acceptance

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7am.  Sitting in the driveway ready to ride a few miles down the road for breakfast.  The plan was for my daughter and I to take a Sunday morning ride — her on the Yamaha Vino and me on the steady Vespa. My friend Gordon inquired the previous evening about Sunday morning plans and I invited him along.

Three scooters on the road.  A good plan. And like all plans subject to change.

At around 4am I received a text message from Aleta that she would probably not make the launch. Another from Gordon indicating a short delay. An unforeseen opportunity to sort through the stuff under the seat of the Vespa.

Making our way through the scenic farmlands of Penns Valley, past a dozen or more Amish buggys, families on their way to Sunday services.

Acceptance.  At this point we’re riding towards our second choice of eating establishments — the Inglebean Coffee House in Millheim, Pennsylvania.  Our first breakfast target, The Whistle Stop in Centre Hall, was closed.

Arriving in Millheim only to find the Inglebean closed.  Not a problem; I know of a restaurant about 15 miles farther up the road near Hartleton.

No luck, the place had burned down.

Mifflinburg is only 8 miles away: We can have breakfast at the Scarlet D.

Closed.  As is the Carriage House restaurant.  Lewisburg is only 10 miles away where we finally find food.  Leave it to a college town (Bucknell University) to have a place open on Sunday.

Can’t remember the name of the place we ate but the food was good and the parking excellent. What started as a five mile ride to breakfast turned into a 50 mile journey.

Acceptance.

After a few pictures of the Vespas (scooter porn) it was time to head home.  One great thing about central Pennsylvania is the endless routes to get somewhere.  No north-south-east-west grids for us.

The two scooters with Gordon and I aboard wandered through the mountains and forests that consume most of this area.  For anyone wondering about how these scooters perform — a Vespa GTS250ie and a GTS300 Super — well, they move through these roads effortlessly up and down the mountains.  Speed is limited more by the skill of the rider than displacement.

Weather was perfect and traffic light to non-existent.  If only we had more time…

Not wanting to pass up an opportunity to utilize fuel fit for NASCAR and test performance we made the pit stop.  Can’t speak for Gordon but I sensed both increased power and respect from other drivers.

What kind of gas was that?  Sunoco maybe???

And that’s how things shook out.  Change in plans, more changes, etc.  Forgot to invite Paul Ruby who inquired about a ride.  Damn.  Wonder what else I forgot.  I think I fed Junior.  Washed behind my ears.  Forgot to shave.

Damn great fun regardless.  Just need a bit of acceptance…