Exploring life on a Vespa, Royal Enfield Himalayan, Honda Trail 125, and a Kawasaki W650
Regardless of how hectic or chaotic an hour, day or week might be, a morning ride on the Vespa wipes away the noise. Road, wind and motion, that quiet meditation where all the world seems exactly as it should be. Or so it seems.
State College, Pennsylvania last Sunday morning, oddly empty, as if all the world was still asleep.
Why does the dawn come at such an inconvenient time of day?
Morning along Interstate 99 on my way to breakfast 60 miles from home. The freeway isn’t a common choice but when gathering miles is the goal it’s an easy path to that end.
The April 2012 issue of the BMW Owners News published results of the annual mileage competition heralding the achievements of male and female riders by state with awards going to the champions. Casual conversations with a wide range of riders who I’ve crossed paths with confirm a fascination with racking up miles — an end in itself with very little attention to the landscapes traversed. Maybe it’s easier to collect miles than experience. Maybe they’re the same thing.
A Vespa is not associated with mileage competitions or even capable of such feats unless you fall into the scooter underworld. ModernVespa.com is full of anecdotal evidence of mind boggling mileage feats from the annual Canonball Run (a cross America scooter race) to riders who routinely put tens of thousands of miles on their Vespas every year just commuting to work. My particular favorite is the fellow from Clearwater, Florida who retires, decides to buy a scooter, and for his first trip rides to Fairbanks, Alaska and back, a nice little near ten thousand mile ride. He’s repeated the feat.
Still, the BMW mileage competition raises some interesting questions. Paul Antonio, another Florida rider, put 42,419 miles last year on his 2010 BMW R1200RT. Some quick math says he needs to ride 116 miles every day to pile up those numbers. Whenever I run into someone who tells me about high mileage or long trips the same question pops into my head as it did when I read the article; “Don’t these guys have jobs?” I can’t get my head around the time it takes to put that many miles on a motorcycle. Or a car for that matter.
Antonio indicates in the article that he’s semi-retired and has amble time and good weather to “ride first and work later”. I’m going to discuss this notion with my boss next week. Top female finisher Nancy Lou Dunn put an impressive 30,215 miles on two BMW F650GS motorcycles — maybe more impressive than the top male because Dunn lives in Michigan which has a markedly shorter riding season.
Cold weather definitely has an effect on riders and the accumulation of miles. A stop outside of Tyrone was motivated by the desire to record the scene and to let my blood warm a few degrees. After 20 minutes at 70mph in 35F air I was cold and made a note to adjust my attire for freeway riding in the future.
I also wondered whether BMW has a complex algorithm to adjust mileage for various experience deducting credit for bikes with fairings, windshields and a variety of electrical heating devices. And surely a mile in sub-freezing Michigan is worth more than a spring day in Florida.
Just past Tyrone I got off the freeway preferring the more relaxed riding on old US220 over the boring monotony of the superslab experience. It’s always an adventure to be riding along and finding the road closed and being forced onto an alternative route. And at that moment I began to wonder about the differences between collecting miles and collecting experiences. I place myself in the latter category preferring to spend my days wandering and meandering without a destination or concern about how many miles I’ve put on the Vespa.
I’ve ridden 400 mile days on the Vespa and know what that’s like.
It’s difficult to ride 400 miles on meandering back roads with 35mph speed limits. It’s why so many road reports don’t seem to ever say much about routes like these. Riders like to go far and fast. A colossal waste of machine to putt along the countryside.
I have a bit under 20,000 miles on the GTS after five years of riding. That would put me at the low end of the BMW mileage competition for some states and in the middle for others. What that tells me that not all BMW riders are about collecting miles. Some might be like me and enjoy the scenery.
After breakfast my father-in-law and I went for a short ride before I had to head home. The temperature had risen nearly 15 degrees after a lazy breakfast making it far more pleasant to be on the road.
At 74 Bob’s still riding to work on his ET4 and wishing he had started riding far sooner that he did just a few years ago. I ask myself the same question from time to time and have only run into a few people who started to ride and quickly abandoned it. Almost all because they started the experience on a machine far too big for their ability and scared themselves stupid. More so than they were when they made their purchase.
A stop outside an old church in Sinking Valley Presbyterian Church for a drink of water and a look at the old cemetery.
There’s no reason the Vespa can’t keep going for a long, long time and undertake trips to the same destinations that large motorcycles undertake. The only difference is the comfort factor at high speed. While all day riding on the freeway is possible on the Vespa the place it really shines is on web of secondary roads across North America. A person could easily tour through all the lower 48 states, Canada and Alaska on a Vespa with little problem. And following it’s natural connection to the road less traveled have a bang up time to boot.
You just need the time.
The road home is quiet and rolls through the agricultural valley just west of Tussey Mountain. It’s the kind of road a Vespa is suited for and far from the urban hipster image that’s in many rider’s minds. It’s ready to ride to the horizon and collect miles. And I wouldn’t be surprised if there isn’t a Vespa rider out there somewhere that has put 40 thousand miles on one in a year. But that kind of talk might be a bit threatening to the fantasy of some riders.
I’ll close this post with some Vespa Dakar footage — little scooters traveling with the big GS bikes. I’m convinced that riding challenges have less to do with the machine and it much more about the mind. And choices are made for reasons that have little to do with the tasks at hand.
Regardless, my hat is still off to those brave souls who pile on the miles. Ride safely.
Fog has a stimulative power capable of pulling a comatose body from fantastic dreamworlds into a real world shrouded is gaseous water and mystery. Forsaking plans and conceptions, no destination in mind, far from home in the dawn mist, I could feel the energy whispering through me, urging me on.
Fine water droplets transform the view through the visor into a translucent white luster framing the road as it winds through the forest, subduing detail not already lost to the fog. A finger drags across the outside of the visor, then inside, a vain ritual to navigate into the morning nebula. Make no mistake – fog increases risk in the riding world and demands careful consideration before choosing to explore.
Empty dirt and gravel roads in Rothrock State Forest changes scanning for vehicles to a search for sudden changes in the road surface, meandering black bears, fallen limbs, and the ever present white-tailed deer.
This place retains the same lure today as it did when I first visited in an orange VW beetle 40 years ago. I see my dog Essa loping along the path, or remember falling through the ice on a New Year’s Day hike. Sight and vision are sharpened by memory.
That’s the secret power of a Vespa – far from discussions of fuel economy, hipster lifestyle or scooter culture. It has power to move me into an altered state. I’ve ridden a lot of fine motorcycles and scooters – this Vespa remains the perfect companion in my riding world.
It just goes without complaint or demand as if just as driven to experience as its rider. Through rain and snow, mud, ice, wind and darkness, the Vespa is up to the challenge. In videos of the Dakar and pictures of them rigged for water crossings, it is a hearty machine.
Miles from home, standing in a stand of hemlocks listening to a small brook babble along on its way to the Chesapeake Bay, a mind is free to wander and wonder and reflect on whatever is important at that moment. This doesn’t happen standing at the water fountain down the hall from my office…
I’ve read there are no wild places in the lower 48 states. Certainly none in central Pennsylvania. Still, in the fog a mind can wander and pretend. Nothing breaks that wilderness bubble faster than the intrusion of runners into a fantasy. Serious ones no doubt – the loop they were taking has 15 miles of mountain running ahead before returning to civilization.
A steep grade on mud and loose gravel challenge the scooter’s descent and highlights the need for careful braking and the technical limitation of the Vespa’s automatic transmission. The Heidenau winter tires provide enough grip and bite to make for a reasonable ride.
Rides can’t last forever, especially ones made without boundaries measured in hours. The departure from one world to another is softened on a foggy day, each mile unfolding with it’s own secret personality.
The Vespa bears witness to the landscape shaped and twisted by fog driven light as its small wheels turn through mud then gravel and back onto the security of pavement. There’s a pull back to the forest and another on into the day. I’m glad I can feel it.
Mentally. Emotionally, Physically. How better to start a day than a ride in the fog. A few hours investment for a valuable return – it’s strong medicine and requires no prescription. A simple choice to ride.
Watching this video I try to imagine Kim, Junior and I on our way to the beach. It’s extreme scootering and probably beyond my personal riding limits.
Thanks to Dom Chang (aka Charlie6) of Redleg’s Rides for sharing the link to this video. I won’t ask how he found it. I do know he’s trying to lure me into the sidecar quadrant of the riding universe. What do you think of his chances for success?
Spring morning rides on the Vespa are electrifying. A visual candy store of light and texture offers an available camera moments of photographic relaxation — images captured to reignite memories later.
Scooters have emerged from garaged cocoons as riding butterflies — simple, quiet, elegant machines of transport and joy. Or so I see them. Here as the sun neared the evening horizon I stood wondering who belonged to the other Vespas.
Ephemeral spring blossoms demonstrate the speed in which time passes. Organic reminders of the constant flow of life and the cycle of change. I don’t think of these things often — at times with a camera, on the scooter, or scratching out words on a page in my journal.
It’s been too nice not to ride at all so I make the most of rides to work and short errands around town. Feeling the Vespa respond to the throttle, the air rushing through my helmet, the world flowing by in a visual river of light and color — I can feel my heart beat and the thrill of being alive and in front of it all.
Yes, it’s too nice not to ride.