Scooter in the Sticks

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

Riding Towards Christmas

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Every year it seems as if life shifts into high gear this time of year. I struggle to stay tuned into the Christmas spirit and stop to enjoy the simple things. It took some gentle persuasion by Kim to nudge me out the door one evening to shoot a picture of the little snow-covered tree in our front yard.

After some bad weather and hectic work schedule I managed to get out on the weekend for a ride after more gentle nudges by Paul. In his honor I made another jumping picture. As he prepared to leap from the platform at the back of the train all I could imagine was a broken ankle. Safety experts at work counsel farmers to not jump down from their tractors due to the high incidence of injury. The same counsel should be offered to riders who jump from trains.

We arrived in Bellefonte during the last moments of their Victorian Christmas Celebration. I managed to photograph one of the carriages drawn by a team of Percheron horses transporting people around town. These events are always shine with more seasonal magic if there’s snow but this time everyone had to be content with 40-degree weather.

Paul and I idled the remains of the day at Cool Beans Coffee and Tea but eventually had to head for home before it got dark and the temperature dropped below freezing making the chance ice spot more probable.

The sun hit the horizon about six miles from home and the temperature dropped to 33 degrees by that time as well.

Stopping to look out over the valley I remembered that the Christmas tree farm where we get our tree was off in the distance. Even though I was riding towards home I was also riding towards a tree as well. Perhaps this weekend if the snow isn’t too bad I’ll bring one home.

Two-Lane Blacktop

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A colleague at work recently began riding. About the same time he spread his blogging wings and has slowly been moving forward on both fronts. Jonathan is riding a vintage BMW R75/7 airhead in wonderful condition. I’m not sure the precise year but it is definitely a fine looking machine. Jonathan shows all the makings of a serious rider and blogger but as those of you already involved in this type of enterprise know it is a struggle sometimes to figure out how to fit it into an already busy life.

So I thought I would introduce his blog, Two-Lane Blacktop, to everyone so you can perhaps watch it develop from infancy. I am always curious about the directions taken by riders and writers both in the world and in a blog.

Jonathan and I have not ridden together but if I can coax him out onto the road this winter you may see that black BMW in pictures with the Vespa GTS.

Update on John’s Surgery

I spoke with John on the phone a few minutes ago and he is in good spirits and all signs are positive concerning today’s graft surgery. Surgeons drilled into the bone and saw blood indicating that the bone was alive and well, skin was grafted over the exposed bone and if it takes he could be back home, or at least at a facility in town by Christmas.

We talked a bit about his future on two wheels but I will leave it to him to comment in that area. He may post here or send me something. We both agreed that it is a personal decision that no one else can make.

Morning Expedition

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When I went to bed last night the weather forecast for my morning commute was questionable. Snow squalls through the night with warming temperatures around the freezing mark around 7 AM. And winds gusting to 50 MPH. Laying in bed I wondered when one of the big spruce trees would crash through the bedroom ceiling. As I fell to sleep I figured I would be driving the truck to work. Probably the smart choice.

At 6AM rain and blowing wind painted a gloomy picture outside the window. Even the dog hesitated at the door before braving the elements. Standing out in front of the house it didn’t seem that awfully cold – 32° F with 50 MPH gusts – hell, I could ride in that. And so I began my morning expedition.

Not even a mile from home I rode into heavy sleet. That coupled with a badly fogged visor and fast traffic forced me off the road to regroup. And take a picture of the Vespa idling as I decided the best course of attack.

With visor clear and a long break in traffic I rode towards town in heavy wind but thankfully only wet roads. I took extra caution at intersections, curves and any other places I could see myself of others breaking free on a sudden slippery spot. At traffic lights I took the opportunity to warm my aching fingers on the headlight. Parking at the office I kept the GTS as close to the building as I could in hopes that it would not blow over in the wind. What a great ride!

I wasn’t feeling well and left for home around 1PM. The forecast called for snow and it was a good thing I left when I did. Sitting in the living room I watched the snow begin to fall and cover the ground and road with a slippery coating of ice and snow. It would not have been fun to ride in that with the wind blowing so hard. Right now it’s dark, cold, and windy. Everything is shaking. At least the Christmas lights haven’t blown away.


I know I will be driving tomorrow. Looking outside it just feels to cold to imagine anything else. I’ll have to chip the snow off the truck and burn up some gas…

Looking Down the Road at Risk and Regret

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I’ve not posted in over ten days and I have been avoiding this one for over a month – from the time my friend John rode his BMW into a garbage truck on the way to work. The Pennsylvania State Police cited him for riding too fast for conditions. As John commented “You should be able to stop for something as large as a garbage truck.”


His well ridden (Iron Butt rider) motorcycle won’t see any further service and sets in pieces at his home. And physically the future is cloudy.

His injuries were severe with a month in intensive care and weeks more in acute care. Dozens of medical procedures, operations, and hundreds of thousands of dollars later he’s still in medical limbo on whether he’ll be able to keep his right leg.


Multiple compound fractures, infection, and failed muscle grafts have created a ponderous challenge for John and the medical team. The hospital he’s being treated in has wireless internet access so John has sent numerous dispatches in the way of images, PDF files, and PowerPoint presentations.


I’ve included a few to give you an idea of the physical nature of his injuries. I’ve not included the more graphic ones from early in the process.

For the past few weeks I’ve noticed the accident is present while riding. Situations appear while riding that requires consideration and assessment. That process has come to include a scenario for catastrophe – a direct result of thoughts about John’s accident. I’ve always been aware of the risk that comes with riding but I have begun to wonder about regret.

Like pilots who don’t talk about crashes I question my own mental turning of this subject. For good or ill it is the way my mind works and I don’t easily let stuff like this pass. No matter who or what is at fault in an accident a person is left with their own situation. And I suppose everyone would regret an accident, a bad decision, an unfortunate circumstance. I ask myself thought would I regret ever having gotten on the Vespa if I found myself in John’s situation. If I was spending time looking at an injured leg not in control or sure of what was going to happen. Would I? Would you?


Weighed against those thoughts is the question asked at the end of my life “Would I regret it if I stopped riding or never rode at all?” That answer would be different for everyone and dependant on what place riding occupies in a person’s life. For me, riding is more than transportation and it surpasses recreation. It touches something spiritually fundamental in me the same way photography and writing has. I would be diminished if I stopped riding.

Many riders do stop after an accident. I’ve not considered stopping nor have I become fearful on the road but something has changed. Perhaps I’ve matured. John and I have not talked of regrets but he has said the accident has put him at a major life crossroad. He’s not sure if he’ll be able or willing to ride again.


Surgeons have attached a vacuum pump to the severe wound on his leg in hopes of eventually making it ready for a muscle graft to allow the leg to finally heal and save his leg. It’s a day-by-day assessment.

So I continue to ride to work and make the occasional trip through the countryside with my camera. Riding down the road I’m aware that I am solely responsible for anything that happens to me. I’m not talking about legal responsibility but actual responsibility for living. It’s not a matter of right and wrong. I am the one who has to live in the circumstances I find thinking about this stuff has taken a bit of the luster from the road.

Ride to Nowhere

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Before I begin I want to extend to each of you warm wishes for our day of thanksgiving. In a complicated world it’s easy to overlook the bounty that is before us.

There are some days, dare I say it, that I don’t feel much like riding. Thoughts I had earlier in the week of a long ride evaporated among an assortment of chores and responsibilities. Plans abandoned I still had the day off from work and rode into town to have breakfast with my friend Howard. After a leisurely meal, discussions of hikes and canoe trips, reviewing the state of his airplane, and generally assessing the state of the world we said our goodbyes and I headed for the bank to get a little cash for the holidays.

Emerging from the bank I stood for a while looking at the scooter, the darkening sky, and wondered if I should take a ride. I had a few hours but had no idea where I should go. Seeing the approaching darkness what better course than to head straight for it.

While those might sound like foolhardy words keep in mind that the temperature was rising towards 55 degrees and only a chance of scattered rain showers existed. I rode directly west out of town and turned off the main road onto a small road that I had somehow missed in the decades I have been prowling this area.

I rode along a narrow road through forested land enjoying the scenery; the fragrance of decaying leaves and the slow easy riding that abounds in this region. Progress was slow as I stopped often just to look around, take a picture, and just enjoy the complete disconnection from the normal workday.

Then I come to a turn onto Ardrey Hollow Road. A sign greets this turn saying “Snow Tires or Chains Required”. What better invitation could there be. At this point I depart from the paved road and travel up the mountain on a gravel road.

On the first ridge a road turns off to the left past a cemetery. This one is paved and I would probably been well advised to take that one but instead I only stopped to take a look at one of the old cemeteries that can be found throughout the hills in this part of Pennsylvania.

There are a number of Ardrey’s buried here, no doubt the namesakes of the road and hollow. The oldest died in 1830 at the age of 63 years, 11 months, and 3 days.

After a look around I get back on Ardrey Hollow Road and continue on towards the Allegheny Front which is some hundreds of feet higher.

The road continues to wind it’s way upwards with sweeping views across the valley. I continue to stop and look around and wonder where this road goes. The Moshanon State Forest lies ahead somewhere farther up the mountain.

Around a bend and the road narrows. Traffic is non-existent so I can park in the middle of the road for a picture. The Vespa handles things nicely and I have a full tank of gas so what the heck.

Reaching a crossroad I know where left and right will take me. The muddier choice straight ahead is unknown. As I sit at the bottom of the hill a pickup truck comes down the road and stops to ask me if I am going to try to go up the mountain on that “thing”. He says it’s pretty muddy and rocky. This is where the smart rider would turn left of right but I’ve already decided I need to find out where this road goes. How bad could the mud be anyways?

Mostly the Vespa moved along fine. There were a few places where the road was more rock that road and sudden areas of sloppy mud that seemed more like heavy snow and slush than dirt road. This is where tires with aggressive tread would be useful to keep the scooter from wandering and wanting to fall down.

The scooter slogged along slowly at times working so hard that the radiator fans kicked in to cool the engine down. I was getting tired using my feet as outriggers to keep everything upright.

Eventually I emerged onto Strawband Beaver Road, still gravel but definitely a hard and stable surface.

I could move along at 35 mph providing the scooter and I some welcome natural cooling effect. It is still bear hunting season here and I wondered if anyone would confuse me with a black bear. It was only a passing thought.

I found a familiar paved road just in time to head for home. The scooter had some mud under the fenders and on the engine but nothing a garden hose wouldn’t fix. After riding through the messy stuff you really appreciate a smooth paved road. Just one more thing to be thankful for.