After almost a week of having to take the Ford Ranger to work I was ready to ride. Friday evening I exchanged the dark Iridium Visor on my Fulmer helmet for the clear one paving the way for a pre-dawn departure. I rolled the Vespa GTS out of the garage at 5:30 AM to a clear, star filled sky with the temperature a mild 53° F. After so much hot weather I forgot what that means on two-wheels.
Riding along through the agricultural areas where cornfields and woodlots that grow right to the edge of the roads meant I would need to manage the risk of encountering Whitetail deer. Since it was still dark and the deer would be moving at this time of day the only real option would be to slow down. I hadn’t gotten three miles until I had to stop to put on another shirt. I made a big mistake not wearing my insulated First Gear Kilimanjaro IV jacket. I looked at the weather report and saw that the temperature would hit the low 70’s. That did happen but not until almost 1 PM. Three layers under the vented jacket kept me functional if not comfortable. The bigger problem was my hands that remained numb or near numb until almost noon. For the first 105 miles the temperature never got above 55° F.
I was on the road 20 minutes before I saw another vehicle. The solitude of riding is magnified on the road near dawn. I’ve not tired of watching the sky begin to brighten and change color during those minutes before the sun breaches the horizon.
I missed the actual sunrise while crossing Nittany Mountain near Rebersburg; the heavily forested area masking any direct light from the low sun. Riding along I could feel my spirits begin to soar and an electric thrill moves through me just because I am riding. I keep asking myself why I didn’t start riding again a long time ago.
I enter Sugar Valley and turn east into the sun right over the road. Almost 15 miles of shielding my eyes from the direct sun with my left hand relaxing only when the road was shielded by trees. Without doing so the shadows were jet black and who knows what would be waiting for me. I was grateful when I finally turned north and on towards Pine Creek Gorge.
At Waterville I had to stop and warm up my hands. Even though I was wearing windproof and insulated gloves they were not heavy enough to do the jog. I know better than to head out unprepared but I allowed myself to be lulled by the idea that it was summer.
About 20 minutes in the sun with a cup of hot chocolate cheered my spirits and thawed my hands enough to continue on towards my next mistake.
When I can’t ride I look at maps and imagine riding. My route this morning was to follow PA 44 to PA 414 along Pine Creek into Pennsylvania’s Grand Canyon – the Pine Creek Gorge. A mental mix-up of the map in my head has me follow PA 44 up onto the mountain top rather than remain along the creek and take me far West of my objective. To make matters worse the state has kindly tarred and chipped the road on top of the mountain treating me to almost 25 miles of gravel and 25 MPH speeds.
Thank god the scenery was enjoyable and I stopped often to look out across the many vistas.
When the road finally cleared my mind moved from managing the changing surface to my stomach and breakfast. A big banner proclaiming “BREAKFAST” on the front porch of the Carter Camp Lodge was all I needed to stop for food, water, and warmth.
I could not have found a better and more relaxed place to eat and the gentleman cooking my breakfast took an interest in the Vespa. Not enough to dissuade him from his BMW R90 though.
And it did not keep him from making one great hearty breakfast either. The Carter Camp Lodge will be on my list of stops next time I pass this way.
The Vespa and I are moving down the road again around 11AM. I’ve been on the road for over 5 hours and have gone 105 miles. I’ve stopped over a dozen times to take pictures, had breakfast, adjusted clothing, and traveled slowly for deer and gravel. So I suppose I’m not doing too badly.
I hit the famous US Route 6 at Galeton and decide it’s time to head home without back tracking to the canyon or seeing the sights. With another 120 miles ahead of me I crank the throttle and cruise along.
My plan was to head to Wellsboro and south on PA 287 and on home. Postcard weather and fine roads through some of the prettiest places in the state promised a fine ride until the scooter and my brain conspired against me. First I noticed the exhaust sounded louder than normal. A quick check of the infamous Vespa GTS exhaust system gasket confirmed that it was beginning to fail. Luckily I made it home before it blew out. The scooter is now with the dealer for a new gasket that is part of a manufacturer recall. During the trip home though I began to wonder if the kind of riding I have been doing is too much for the scooter, if I should really be riding something bigger, more powerful, more durable. All this while cruising along comfortably at 60 MPH on a machine that has proven to be nothing short of exceptional.
But my mind wanders to the fact that I didn’t pass a scooter all day or a motorcycle under 1000cc’s. Those thoughts pass quickly though as I absorb the scenery and amazing roads that I have to ride on.
