Scooter in the Sticks

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

Short Flights

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Saturday morning and I depart on the Vespa. The ride prepares me for the day. During the week the ride to work does it. Kim and I planned to take a trip later in the morning so my ride was necessarily short but I’ve found that I don’t need a lot of time on the scooter to settle down.

The sun was just coming over the trees, burning through the fog when I stopped at the crossing of Rock and Trout roads. Both signs indicate something about central Pennsylvania.

I’m always lured by unfamiliar or seldom traveled roads. Early morning finds many of the roads here empty and easy to just stop on the scooter and take a picture.

Moments later I pass a flock of wild turkeys but the camera is safely packed away. Traveling slowly I can hardly maintain my forward progress because I keep wanting to stop and take pictures. And there are always more roads and lanes and tracks to follow.

Surprises like the turkeys and new paths seem to always appear. Not always welcome though like suddenly coming upon a stinking section of road that was freshly oiled and chipped.

Something about spraying oil all over the road and dropping gravel and then more oil seems wrong. The rain last night had streaks of this stuff going everywhere. I haven’t wanted to look under the Vespa.

Spring Creek, a cold water stream and excellent trout stream is the recipient of whatever runs off these roads. Just can’t be good. The water looks clear.

My stomach gets the best of me and I stop in Bellefonte for breakfast.

One of the advantages of being an early morning person is that you often have the world to yourself. Many of my short rides have me home before a lot of people are moving around.

After breakfast I wandered home, ready for the day, thanks to another short flight on the Vespa.

In All Weathers

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There is no bad riding weather. Well, I suppose I wouldn’t be quick to ride in a hurricane, tornado, ice, or snowstorm. Not sure about the snowstorm. I didn’t always believe this though but now when I get up in the morning to look at the weather it isn’t to decide if I will ride or not but simply how I will dress. Like the other day going to work after a night of hard rain. Still a bit of mist in the air and scattered rain called for the First Gear jacket. Winding along a farm lane towards campus was just another small gift of beauty that I would miss if I weren’t riding. Beaver Stadium appears like Brigadoon as I came over a rise.

When I started riding there was one weather to ride in—warm and dry. There was no thought or contemplation; it was just an obvious truth. Almost every motorcycle riding technique book that I read supported this notion and suggested that any riding in “bad” weather was to be undertaken in emergencies only and then at extreme risk. So it was pretty easy to keep riding when I did. On nice days like it was last Sunday when I chanced upon a field of sunflowers. A nice warm happy riding day.

Over time my desire to ride forced me to question the days I was leaving the Vespa at home. I started to explore the road surfaces, gear to protect me from the elements, my riding skills, and ultimately test for myself the premise I had been operating under that two-wheels were for warm and dry days. From that mental opening I have found great joy riding almost all the time. My own mental barriers gave way to experience. Fortunately I had no fashion or stylistic requirements that would have made riding in wet or cold weather impossible. I’ve heard more than one rider tell me they hate cold wet riding. Usually under cross-examination I find that those conclusions were derived from intuition or from having been caught in a sudden change of weather without the proper gear.

Almost every time I ride I think about the weather and how I might improve the way I deal with it. For me the biggest challenge is hot weather and I have yet to find what I consider the ideal protective pants. But I’m still thinking. I tell new photographers who are seeking ways to improve their photography to not limit the times they pick up their cameras to bright sunny days. There is magic in all those other kinds of weather. Same goes for riding.

POSTSCRIPT: This is my 200th blog post. Time sure flies when you’re having fun! Here is a link to the post number 1. Didn’t even warrant a comment. The experience with the Ford Ranger has changed a bit though, I can go a lot longer on a tank of gas

Exploring the Road (Slowly)

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Roads and highways are designed for machines not people. Maybe that’s why often feel out of place stopped alongside one taking pictures or exploring the areas most people rush by. Count up all the miles of roads and that’s a lot of ground that has been delegated to invisibility beyond the general view.

I’ve passed the road cut in the picture above countless times in a car but never stopped to really look at it. It’s easy to stop on the Vespa and it never feels inconvenient no matter how many times I stop to look at a plant, rock, or view. It’s one of the strengths of a small scooter. In the car all the details are filtered away by speed and separation from the road. I’ve wondered if the same might be true if I were riding a bigger scooter or motorcycle—would I be seduced into the same rapid pace as a car? Judging by the other riders I see the answer would be yes.

My friend Frank Armstrong believes you need to be traveling no faster than 35 MPH to see anything photographically. (Correct me if I have this wrong Frank). I have found that to be true and when I used to explore in my truck it was painful to crawl along roads at 25 MPH. It just felt wrong. On the Vespa it feels just fine.

So I’m not sure how versatile and useful a motorcycle would be to me for the kind of riding experience I seek. Hard to imagine feeling comfortable and satisfied astride a Triumph Scrambler or BMW 1200 GS Adventure all afternoon at 35 MPH. If some manufacturer what’s me to test the theory with an extended loan I’ll experiment. Maybe I’m wrong.

I stopped again along Route 322 just to look at the road wind over the hill. How often do I stop in the truck?

I didn’t have any destination in mind on this ride and just kept wandering along turning and stopping as the whim hit me. Heading toward Black Moshannon State Park I passed Hannah Furnace Road.

A quick U-turn and off I go down a road that I hadn’t been on before. Asphalt turns to gravel and I have the chance to practice my skills a bit more until I am comfortable running along at 30 MPH without feeling like the scooter is going down at any moment.

After a few stops to look at plants and birds I rode on until joining US 322 again and headed home. Only traveled about 70 miles but it was a nice, relaxed ride…

Working and Riding

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They do mix. I’m not just talking about the ride to work or even as transportation to and from assignments. What I’m referring to is using the Vespa as a tool to do a better job.

The Luna Moth carcass I saw on the ground is one of those little details that are easy to miss if you aren’t paying attention. And there are things to see everywhere. Little hidden stories just waiting to be noticed.

Conventional behavior would have me behind the wheel of my truck or a rental van to get to and from the locations I need to visit. The windows would be up, air conditioner on, and whatever talk show I could find would be struggling to push out the boredom of sitting in a plush chair with not much to do. That’s probably why so many people drive with a cell phone to their ear.

I rode out to an experimental forest today to see how a small tract of forestland was being mapped and cataloged using the latest technology available. In order to identify the exact location of every stem, every species, and every diameter requires a lot of careful attention.

Scanning the gravel road surface for obstacles and loose areas, executing turns, applying throttle and brakes, the whole mechanical process of riding fuels a change in consciousness. Details grow larger and I see more. You need to be conscious and see more if you want to manage risk better. The resultant rise in awareness has benefits for a photographer. I notice things. Like the Luna Moth. I see differently now than I did when I wasn’t riding. It is easier to see foreground, background, subject, color, and light almost instantaneously. My eye pours over the viewfinder with a restlessness that just wasn’t there a few years ago. And I’m patient. Maybe it’s the digital camera or the onset of maturity but I can’t help but see a parallel between the ways I see while riding with photography.

I’m grateful to have a profession that places me out in the world and gives me a chance to look out across the natural landscapes here like this view out towards Tussey Mountain. On the way back to the office I stopped to look at a small creek running along the road. This homemade sign for Snake Hill Stables caught my eye and I just had to make a picture.

I can’t take the Vespa on every assignment. Sometimes I need room for passengers, have too much gear to haul along, or the scooter just is not a reasonable choice for some hi-speed, long-distance trips. But for many of them within 50 miles it’s ideal.


The GTS easily hauls a big camera bag and tripod that suitable for a lot of work. This past Monday I had to ride out to photograph an irrigation project, something not typical in Pennsylvania, and the Vespa was more than adequate.

So now I’m faced with a dilemma—how to deal with this new area of riding. I’m not sure what the policy is concerning blogging about work activity. I suppose I’ll have to ask.

Riding to Work

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Looking out the window this morning and seeing a steady rain didn’t bode well for Ride to Work Day but I really do find satisfaction riding in the rain.

Maneuvering the Vespa along wet roads really turns up the attention level. I stopped twice on the way to work to get the camera wet and just appreciate being part of the rain. Mental processes at work on clear dry days with good visibility are intensified as even more data streams into my head when the weather is more demanding. I’m left feeling hyperaware.

Did not see any other motorcycles on the way to work but I know there are some hard-core riders around and that we just didn’t cross paths. By the time I rode home the rain had passed and the roads were clear and I was seeing other riders.

Good day and a fine ride.