Scooter in the Sticks

Exploring life on a Vespa Scooter and Royal Enfield Himalayan motorcycle.

Watch For Ice

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The sign stood out like a warning beacon as the Vespa and I crawled to work by roads largely free of traffic. A quick check of the online weather forecast promised, suggested, guessed, predicted there would be no snow, a short period of light rain, and air temperatures approaching 40 degrees under cloudy skies. Snowflakes danced through the air as I pulled out of the driveway. I had already tested the road surface to confirm adequate traction. The ambient air temperature gauge on the GTS displayed a chilly 35 degrees.

The first snow of the year, even this snow for effect, causes me to shift mental gears. Something happens. I have trouble explaining to riders and non-riders why I ride in cold weather. Last night Kim and I were watching Seven Years in Tibet and Austrian mountain climber Heinrich Harrer came as close to describing my feelings about riding as I have come across as he describes to the young Dalai Lama what he loves about climbing mountains:

“The absolute simplicity. That’s what I love. When you’re climbing your mind is clear… freed of all confusions. You have focus. And suddenly the light becomes sharper, sounds are richer, and you are filled with the deep, powerful presence of life.”

It is like that for me riding the Vespa.

When the potential for slick roads increases I make a number of riding adjustments. The first is occasional stops to assess available traction. I want something other than the tires telling me they are breaking loose.

I also decrease speed. Depending on where I am and what the weather is like it can be pretty dramatic. Other times it means slowing to the speed limit, which this morning meant I had instant company on my back wheel. I’ll pull over or just keep moving along but I usually can’t be coaxed to go faster. The creative driver though can influence me to go much slower though.

Finally, I choose different routes. Usually choices are made in order to have less traffic and always mean longer distances and slower speeds. But they are safer in bad weather. I’m fortunate to have good alternative routes.

Last night Kim and I were watching Seven Years in Tibet and Austrian mountain climber Heinrich Harrer came as close to describing my feelings about riding as I have come across as he describes to the young Dalai Lama what he loves about climbing mountains:

“The absolute simplicity. That’s what I love. When you’re climbing your mind is clear… freed of all confusions. You have focus. And suddenly the light becomes sharper, sounds are richer, and you are filled with the deep, powerful presence of life.”

It is like that for me riding the Vespa.



This morning brought me across several farm fields via mud or gravel lanes. No one pressures you here though you do have to keep your eyes open for those infernal single strand wires stretched across lanes between fences.



You can’t get too worked up though since these aren’t public roads. Travel at your own risk and such. Slow and steady are the watchwords.



By lunch time the snow was falling harder but still not sticking to the ground. Air temperature remained at 35 degrees but I started to wonder about the possibility of a sudden decline and snow on the road for the ride home. Add to that the shorter days and less light and winter commuting can be a challenge. And it’s not even winter yet.

Same technique on the way home plus the added frustration of visor fogging made worse by bright headlights. At times visibility evaporated and speed declined accordingly. The routes I ride allow for drastic changes in speed. Riding in this kind of weather in heavy traffic would be a nightmare and I would work hard to avoid it.



Stopped on the way home for milk before the last dash for home. Dark and raining I wandered off the main roads through neighborhoods and along secondary streets. The roads remained wet but not slippery.

Thinking about what’s to come I wish I would have purchased those Kenda K761 tires that Gary Charpentier so adamantly endorsed. And a pair of Gerbing electric gloves would just be nice. I suppose I could take the bus. The truck stands ready but I filled it up last night to the tune of $53. That’s just depressing.

For now I’ll keep riding the GTS.

Back in the Sticks

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The ride to work this morning after my trip to South Carolina was in the fog. It triggered thoughts about safety and vulnerable situations. Fresh memories of traffic on Interstate 95 and 81 had me questioning the judgment of my fellows on the highway. But it was a beautiful morning and those thoughts can wait for another time.

My daughter commented on my ability to see past the noise and find the empty places. On Myrtle Beach I watched her look for shells and made a picture not unlike some of those that appear on Scooter in the Sticks—spare, empty, alone. But you never know what is just out of the frame. Or behind me. She had a good chuckle when looking at the pictures I took.

I’ve gotten pretty good at overlooking or ignoring some things in the landscape.

Trauma 13

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While I was on my way to work under clear skies farther south in another valley my friend John was riding his BMW R100 to work in fog along a main artery for commuters. Shortly after 7AM his motorcycle slammed into a garbage truck that pulled into the road as he passed.

Emergency responders came to his aid quickly and took him to a local airport where he was flown to a trauma center. Upon arrival he was designated Trauma 13. Seeing that there is no room 13 in the Intensive Care Unit is was odd that there would be a patient designated Trauma 13.

John’s wife is an instructor for the Motorcycle Safety Foundation. She told me the visor of his helmet was completely covered with blood on the inside. You couldn’t see in. She arrived on the scene minutes after the accident. They didn’t know the rider’s identity but she recognized the pieces of his BMW. And the helmet. As I talked with her at the hospital she told me that she would be planning a funeral if he hadn’t been wearing a helmet.

The oral and maxillofacial surgeon showed us 3D images of his skull. As he manipulated the images to explain the damages it was unnerving to see how fragile everything looked. John was fortunate that the damage was minor. A black eye, a few hairline fractures, and only one small displacement in the bottom of the ocular socket.

John is a lifelong rider. He’s done the Iron Butt and cross country rider. He’s a daily commuter and wears all the gear. While the gear won’t prevent a collision it will help minimize potential damage. He was in and out of sleep when I visited and at one point he asked me where he was and if there was an accident. After briefly explaining the circumstances I told them they had to cut off his new Revit jacket. He responded with “Aww f**k!!!”. While the doctors already confirmed it I knew there were no brain injuries.

The worst damage occurred to John’s right leg that hit the truck door. Since the truck was pulling out into traffic to move to the next pickup he probably hit at a deflected angle which helped minimize damage but his femur was still in pieces and the patella shattered. Looking at the x-rays I thought about former Washington Redskin’s quarterback Joe Theismann’s leg break during a game with the New York Giants.

An orthopedic team will begin reconstruction Friday morning if the swelling has diminished. Their biggest concern at this point is infection since the bones breached the skin. The armored pants helped keep road dirt and grime on the outside. A pair of jeans would have things dragging through the dirt.

It’s sobering to visit a friend and fellow rider in a hospital. It’s hard not to switch places. It had me reassessing the risk. I haven’t ridden since but only because work has kept me in need of my Ford Ranger. I’ve thought a lot about being Trauma 13. And I know I’ll continue to ride.

John has a long recovery ahead but I suspect he’s already thinking about what to ride next.

Godspeed John.

First Signs of Fall

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The days are already noticeably shorter and the corn is tall and ready to turn. The first signs of Fall are subtle, a few leaves turn color early, field crops ready themselves for harvest, apples get ready to pick, and around here signs of Penn State Football become apparent.

Riding through some back roads the other day I found another sign of Fall that could have multiple meanings. Literally. The hickory nuts (I think) that have begun to fall off the trees here.

In addition to giving the squirrels an opportunity to hoard for the winter they give the less attentive rider an opportunity to fall. Rounding a bend I came across about twenty feet of these hard round nuts that masquerade as marbles and give the Vespa tires fits. They are hard and keep the tire up and off the ground doing wonders for traction. These seasonal drops (nuts not riders) are common when roads run under hickory, walnut, and oaks loaded with acorns. One more innocent little natural hazard to add to the mental library along with manure drops, wet leaves, whitetail deer, groundhogs, springs, birds and bears.

Life in the sticks has its own unique set of riding requirements.

Vespa GTS 250ie Off-Pavement Riding Review

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While the Vespa GTS 250ie and I may look at home off the pavement at least one of us is not. This post is more a commentary on my riding skill than any inherent capacity or deficiency of the scooter. And it’s probably fair to say that the word Vespa is not often uttered in the company of words like Husqvarna, Dakar, KTM, Baja, and others synonymous with off-road racing and riding. A lot of things working against us.

Devils Elbow Road winds down from the Appalachian Plateau, a narrow, loosely packed gravel road with lots of washboard areas on the steeper sections. The Vespa feels like one or both of the tires could slip out at any moment as I proceed along the smoother sections at 25 MPH. I have to fight the urge to put my feet out as outriggers like I do in the snow. I keep telling myself to keep my head up and throttle even. The wheels still feel as if they are sliding around.

While trying not to picture the paint after a drop I throttle back to 20 MPH, which turns out to be a comfortable speed for me. I try hard to remember what my old Kawasaki dirt bike felt like on similar roads but my memory isn’t that sharp.

I tempt fate by throttling up for short periods or stop suddenly to gauge the traction the tires have in the gravel. None of this affords any additional riding confidence. I’m running the stock Sava tires and 3000 miles has squared the back one off making it a candidate for replacement. A more aggressive tread might help but I wonder how much of this riding I would actually be doing and why 20 MPH isn’t just fine. Then I picture a 40 mile stretch of this sort of gravel.

The Pennsylvania Bureau of Forestry is big on crushed limestone road surfaces. Sometimes they feel unstable when I walk on them so I guess I should be happy with the progress the Vespa and I are making. At one point the road is just packed clay and dirt and I am able to easily move at 40 MPH making me wonder how well a KLR would perform on the loose and at times deep gravel. (Gary, this is your cue.)

The jury is still out on the Vespa’s off-road capability. I can say it’s not and off-road racer in it’s stock setup and judging by it’s performance on the washboard surfaces I would not want to challenge the suspension on anything rough at speeds beyond a crawl. But I was able to travel and get where I was going. At a leisurely pace it will go all day. Perhaps with a bit more practice the Vespa (or me) will become a reasonable traveler off the pavement.