Scooter in the Sticks

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

The Empty Road

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I wrote this upon arrival at Barnes and Noble.

An uneventful short ride brought me to Barnes and Noble. No excitement or interest as I told myself I have prowled these roads before. I’ve convinced myself they are empty and dead. Nothing left to see.

Sitting in the café I think of a blog post title: The Empty Road. It’s misleading. Conjures thoughts of open highways with nameless destinations. The cliché freedom of the road. Someday I hope to sample that place.

The empty road I’m thinking about is in my head. A road without interest or attraction that goes nowhere. Thrill and satisfaction drained away leaving behind a barely animated body on the seat of the Vespa. Other than that it’s a great ride.

I’ve thought a lot about riding risk related to physical conditions. Perhaps a few words about mental risk are in order. I’m pretty sure I pass drivers (and riders) who are preoccupied with something – work, money problems, problems at home, something. Or maybe they’re just tired, angry, or bored. Whatever the problem its hard to be focused on the road. And absolutely nothing has to be wrong to still be disconnected from the ride. It just happens.

Like now. I’d like to be home lying on the couch with Kim. Relaxing. Not doing a damn thing. Maybe I shouldn’t ride today. Just go home.

The Vespa is a reliable developer of enthusiasm. I wandered through town and country to arrive here and could feel the pulse of energy flash on and off. It never ignited the steady burn of intense reward. Maybe it’s the blustery 30° F temperature bothering me after 75° just a few days ago. Or the mental dismissal of familiar roads. Or maybe I just need to recognize it was a busy week and I just don’t want to do anything.

A cup of tea and a cookie hasn’t fixed me. An asiago cheese pretzel follows and the sun comes out. I see it shining on the Vespa in the parking lot. Snow is flying farther down the valley. I can feel the engine trying to turn over in my head. The tea has assumed room temperature and a flicker of desire is winning out over the desire to finish the pretzel. It’s time to go, just don’t know where.

End of notebook entry.

That’s where my head was when I closed the notebook at Barnes and Noble. I wasn’t sure where to go and sat for a while until I decided to ride home though not by a direct route. Past Rockview State Penitentiary and up Centre Hall Mountain. Stopped on the way up to look around in the woods.

At the top of the mountain I stopped to admire the view from where the Mount Nittany Inn used to sit. A fine restaurant that had the misfortune of burning down twice. It has sat like it is for several years now.

At the bottom of the mountain is George’s Frosty Cup – a local soft ice cream joint where I figured I could have one more snack before going home. The wind was blowing hard and jostling the scooter around until I entered town and the relative protection of the houses along the street. I hadn’t been this way since last summer and was surprised to see George’s transformed in Doans Bones Barbeque.

This required investigation and a sampling of their pulled pork sandwich server with homemade potato chips. I’ll be back again.

An interesting aside. A picture of this place appeared in the New York Times a few weeks ago as part of an article on photographer Henry Wessel. Mr. Wessel made his picture in the late 1960’s when the place was called Fye’s.

Rather than ride directly home I plotted another circuitous route home through some rural roads I had forgotten about. Dark clouds and flying snow had me choose a straight line home before I found myself riding with snow on the road or my hands numb enough to have to stop. One last picture of the landscape and then onto the main highway for a 60 MPH run home in a nice crosswind.

Kim was on the phone when I came in and I heard her tell whomever she was talking to that I had a big smile on my face. I guess the Vespa still works.

Thoughts on Risk and Personal Responsibility

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My last post raised questions about the wisdom and folly of riding home in the snow. Adverse conditions pose technical challenges for a rider but I want to focus more closely on risk assessment and the personal responsibility I assume when I get onto the scooter.

Many assume riding is inherently dangerous and I won’t disagree. I’m never sure how to respond when someone tells me they would never ride a motorcycle because it is too dangerous. Even a brief look at Ride2Die.com is a sober reminder of how things can go terribly wrong. But what’s missing from these cautions is the consideration a rider brings to the ride. In this case my assessment of circumstances and the skills and expertise I bring to the decision making process. An accident or other dangerous encounter is not a certainty and the risk of one can be greatly mitigated by careful and deliberate choices. And this brings me to my choice to ride home in the snow.

When I began riding again less than two years ago I read a lot of motorcycle training books. I remember one warned against riding at night and in the rain. Ever. And it provided strong arguments in support of that position. Riding in the snow was at best a fool’s errand. So how have I arrived at a place where I ride in rain, at night, and in the snow?

I am not indifferent to the risks posed by these conditions and have considered them carefully while sitting in the comfort of my living room, while standing in the doorway making a decision about riding, and while on the back of the scooter. I ask myself if I am up to the ride technically, physically, and mentally. I run through the potential pitfalls. And finally I ask if I am ready to accept the consequences of my decisions.

I don’t want to talk about legal responsibility or the bad habits or missteps of other drivers. I can’t control whitetail deer or objects on the road. I can’t control potholes or gravel. They are part of the roadway landscape and I can either accept them or not ride. So I choose to focus on what I can do as a rider and find there is a wide range of actions at my disposal.

Back to the ride in the snow. Several ideas have been raised about my decision. One is that it was a bad decision. I agree, sort of. For me it was the wrong decision based on my general desire to not have to ride in snow. I don’t like riding in snow and had I known what was ahead I would not have ridden. I don’t accept the idea however that any riding in snow is crazy or ill fated. It all depends.

Another point raised was I should have known better than to get on the scooter and ridden off when snow was already falling. Guilty. In hindsight I should have ridden the bus.

The most interesting comments were when things got bad I should have parked the scooter and gotten home another way. The risk to life and limb being too great. I agree and this is the one I struggle with. I could have parked the scooter almost anywhere along the way home yet I didn’t. It’s not like it didn’t occur to me as an option. I considered the situation and determined I would be able to continue on. I was constantly testing the road surface, minding the traffic levels, mediating my speed to match the limits of the scooter in the snow and my own ability to manage slipping and sliding. I even factored a fall into the equation. Considering these things I determined the risk to be manageable.

I’ve been looking at Tom Brown’s Field Guide to Wilderness Survival where he identifies the mind as the most important tool to survival. And in order to keep the mind functioning smoothly one must have a positive attitude. I suggest the same applies to riding, especially in adverse conditions.

For riders who don’t have experience in foul weather this kind of ride may appear foolhardy. Others may consider I a personal challenge to master, a chance to test skill and mettle and stretch the limits of experience. While I don’t seek out these kinds of situations I know they will present themselves and coping with them have meaning and importance.

The bottom line – as long as I carefully consider what I am doing and make honest evaluations I am comfortable accepting the risk and outcome. I did this last year when I dropped my LX150 in the snow on the way to work, when I destroyed the LX150 while attempting to change the drive belt, and most recently making the ride home in the snow.

I’ll close with a recollection of sailing one morning out of Provincetown, Massachusetts north to Portland, Maine in high winds and a rough sea. As the weather worsened a sudden, strong gust of wind almost knocked the boat down while I was setting a reef in the mainsail. I remember a flash of disaster in my mind but immediately began an assessment of what to do next. My skill and experience was equal to the situation and my friends and I sailed on to our destination. While not an experience for every sailor it was not an unreasonable level of risk for me. And so it was for the Vespa and I in the recent snow.

A Few Words About Safety

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It’s snowing outside again. Not hard but enough to influence a decision to stay off the road. I had my riding pants on before deciding to keep the Vespa in the garage. The roads are wet, mostly free of snow, and with temperatures in the high 20’s a ride is not out of the question.

I received a note from a fellow rider this week that described my riding and writing as revealing “the beauty that dwells in the middle”. He went on to explain this as a marked contrast to the media culture that pushes extremes. I smiled when I saw an advertisement on the online version of the New York Times announcing the coming episodes of National Geographic’s Planet Carnivore. I don’t live there.

Before moving on to safety I confess to a wonderful comfort in the middle. I am not an adventurer, warrior, or adrenaline seeker. I look at and think about the world in front of me and wherever I find myself it is enough. There are more discoveries still waiting for me in my backyard. As a photographer I find connection and direction in the work of Czech photographer Josef Sudek and his ability to find beauty right in front of him.

As a rider I am still learning. I don’t expect to stop until time or circumstance prevents me from continuing. Living in the middle as a rider means thinking about safety and carefully considering what that means to me and what risks I am willing to take. I don’t confuse living safely with managing riding risk. If I wanted to live safely I would not ride. It’s here that things can get sticky for some would be riders that want to live safely, carefully, and want to believe that accidents will never happen if they follow steps a, b, c….

The notion that accidents should not happen if everyone follows the rules may be how someone justifies a legal action for an accident. Unmet expectations on the road might lead to anger and rage when others don’t perform as they should. This angry energy gives rise to more and more unsafe drivers and highways. And it leaves me with more difficult questions related to managing risk. What can I do?

Safety breaks down into four areas for me:

1. State of mind
2. My physical condition
3. Mechanical readiness of the scooter
4. My skill and experience in making and executing decisions

Each of these can respond to work and energy that I put into them. None fall into the Act-of-God area. All benefit from practice and attention and will make my ride safer. And I know they make me a better man. When I look at this short list and ask myself if I applied it to driving before I became a rider the answer is no. Riding safely, managing risk, and riding “in the middle” works together like magic to sweep away the curtain that make it difficult to appreciate the quiet places and moments in front of me.

The snow has continued to fall while I have typed this post. The house is quiet save for Kim turning pages in a magazine and I am living in the middle. I’m grateful that riding has made it much easier to accept and appreciate the life I have.


Don’t forget to let the motorcycle industry know how you feel about things in the 2007 Riders Choice Awards sponsored by Motorcycle Bloggers International. Dream bikes, dream rides, the good and the bad, and off course if you are so inclined Scooter in the Sticks is in the running for best blog! Click the image to get to the ballot.

Looking for Risk

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As I do every morning I look out the front door to see what the day has in store for me in terms of riding. I may walk outside to test the road surface and I’ll always look at the weather forecast. I’m looking for risk. I don’t mean I am seeking out ways to put myself at risk. I just want to know what risk I’ll be facing. Physical and performance differences between my new Vespa GTS and the LX150 I used to ride force me to make different choices. Because I am still unfamiliar with the handling characteristics of the GTS I’ll conservative in my decision-making.

Dry snow on the road, temperature hovering at 15° F, an occasional snow shower predicted, windy with 40 MPH gusts, I would take the LX150 to run errands. I’m comfortable handling it in these conditions and readily accept the risks presented by the road surface and weather not to mention the other drivers. I won’t accept the risk with the GTS though because there are too many unknowns right now simply because I don’t have enough experience on this scooter.

Dan Bateman over at Musings of an Intrepid Commuter is a master at assessing risk and offers us an opportunity to learn how to manage safely while riding. I thought it would be a good idea to point out one of his posts titled “Why am I Here?” This thoughtful piece provides riders and commuters with something that makes you think about where you are on the road and how the decisions made set you up for success or disaster. It is definitely worth reading and thinking about. If I have learned one thing from Dan over the past year it’s that the longer I ride the more I realize I don’t know. His writing makes it easy to put my pride aside and make myself a better rider.

The wind is blowing hard now and my dog is antsy for a walk. The GTS is going to have to chill in the garage a bit longer today. The extended weather forecast is calling for similar weather for the next five days so I am going to have to be patient…