Scooter in the Sticks

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

Chasing Simplicity

by 21 Comments

Balmy air flowed through the vents in my helmet on this glowing, late fall morning, a riding gift that grows more rare as winter edges closer.  Soon the riding rituals will become a deliberation of gear and clothing, assessment and decision as the threat of frigid weather sweeps away the simpler joys of riding.

Riding a Vespa is a simple joy, one that I found late in life.  Riding has allowed me to explore the notion of a simple life, at least for those moments on the road where little matters save the road unfurling ahead and the decisions and actions required to keep the scooter flying along safely.

I was riding into town to see my friend Gordon when I stopped to make this photograph, listen to the leaves rustle underfoot, watch the light dazzle thought the yellow leaves, and give thanks for just being able to stand there for a few moments.

It’s been that kind of week.

At Saint’s Cafe between sips of hot chocolate and bites of a bagel I read (again) on my iPhone something called the 100 Thing Challenge.  A challenge to reduce your worldly possessions to 100.  An arbitrary number but the idea is there is some value in untying oneself from weight of things, and more importantly from the desire to acquire more.  I understand.

Yesterday brought a new Orvis catalog, another from LL Bean and one from Eddie Bauer.  They were destined to join ones from B&H Photo, Aerostich, and a host of others already on my desk.  Each offering songs of delight and desire for things that, well, I just don’t need.

So they’re all on their way to the landfill.  I told Gordon how nice it would be to think about buying or shopping only when I actually need something.

I’ve been taking some tentative steps towards simplicity — getting rid of things I don’t use, don’t need, can’t remember why I have.  And there is a lot of stuff.  Don’t know how many things I have but I’m sure I have to be closer to 10,000 than to 100.

One hundred isn’t important.  What’s important is slowing removing the extraneous things that collect so easily.

At least that’s the plan.

I showed up without any prints this morning.  Gordon had a bunch including several portraits he made of me.  I’m always behind the camera so the only time I have my picture taken is when I pass near another photographer.  We all understand our predicament.  We quickly create mutual admiration societies.

So the chase continues.  I need to visit my basement workbench.  I think there are 25,000 left over pieces of stuff from 20 years worth of projects.  I wish it would all go away.

Riding, Choices and Getting Things Done

by 29 Comments

Every action has a price. Most of the time the price is small and easy to overlook. At times chance and providence provide enough light to see the bigger costs. Riding, at it’s best, presents me an opportunity to see the world free of the chaos and illusion I create or find myself wading neck deep. On the road, even on a morning ride to work, the wind and the sound of the road can strip away the noise in my head and leave me breathless at the miracle of being alive.

Standing before Mount Nittany, watching the horses graze, tails slapping at the morning flies, watching the warm light lick across the tall corn I’m aware of how fleeting all this is. Behind me the morning commuter traffic roars by on the expressway with cars and trucks bent on getting things done.

Getting Things Done. A war cry in the business world and a phrase of near cult status among aficionados of achievement, success and Stephen Coveyites. I’ve pursued some form of this myself as I struggle to make better and more efficient use of my time and energy at work.

Just a couple weeks ago while riding into work on a particularly quiet, empty morning I could not help but notice how my mind raced around a problem at work, lighting for an instant on a solution before darting to another much as a hummingbird moves from flower to flower.

The idea of getting things done is seductive and the tools to plug in, connect and stay engaged are many. And behold, late in the evening last week, while barely able to keep my eyes open I found myself sitting on the bed, iPhone in hand, answering email, checking my calendar, adding notes to a Google Doc, and Tweeting a picture of my Vespa. I was getting things done. I was also torturing myself in ways I could not fully appreciate.

Nothing like a choppy, impatient brain to reek havoc on one’s ability to focus on complex problems, write, or make sense of chaos. With the iPhone sitting on my desk, bristling with data and information just an arms length away, I knew it had to go.

And so it has as I upgraded to a feature phone that is, well, a phone. And it can receive text messages or create them with mind numbing slowness that only a numeric keypad can engender. No more Camera+ or TweetDeck. No more checking email with addictive frequency or browsing the web at ever spare moment. I’ve taken back my brain so I can use for the things that I am valued for and not apply it to a kind of simulated feeling of accomplishment that can come from being plugged into an endless supply of data and information.

The result has seen the chaos in my head evaporate. And that which does appear is the result of real problems rather than artificially created through the misuse of a device promising convenience but delivering to me something different.
On the road I am careful of my choices as a rider. Seems only right to apply that to the rest of my life.

And perhaps there is a subconscious recognition of the danger of too much information when I recently responded to the familiar inquiry of “If you were going to buy a motorcycle today which one would you get?” with the words “Triumph Scrambler.”

A simple, functional machine that makes my Vespa seem overloaded with data outputs. No tachometer, fuel gauge, or much of anything.  I’ve been riding one recently and have fallen in love.  I suppose it’s no coincidence that the bike is a model of simplicity.

I know the iPhone and other devices of convenience aren’t a problem for everyone but for me, they hobble my abilities to think, write, photograph or wrap my head around large, complex problems. The price of ownership and use is just too high.

Later today I will purchase a paper calendar to keep in my pocket.

Simple Living and the Pink Bike

by 13 Comments

Record fuel prices and evidence of an expanding waistline brought my old Schwinn Mirada bicycle into the light. When concerns related to riding a Vespa and its affect on masculine appearances are directed toward me they fall on the deaf ears of a man who has ridden a pink bike since the 1970’s. For the two months that Scooter in the Sticks has been dormant I’ve continued to ride and think about things that come up on the road. Not always the typical topics. Of late I have been thinking more and more about ways to simplify my life. Reduce the noise and confusion attendant with too much stuff and too much to do with no hope of creating more time in a day.

The Vespa is a model of simplicity as a transportation vehicle. It’s reliable, well made, stingy with fuel, and simple to operate. Being plain fun to ride is gravy. Economics aside it epitomizes simple transport and is surpassed in my mind only by walking or a bicycle. As it turns out I’m not ready to sign on to the pink bike as my primary mode of transport.

Riding the Vespa focuses my attention on what’s happening — what’s in front of me and around me. It strips away all or most of the noise in my head as my brain focuses on what I need to do to ride safely. That kind of clarity is a gift. On the way home from the video store on Friday night I pulled off the road to look at the clouds after the sun had set. In that moment everything was simple and quiet. Those kind of Vespa moments make it easy to differentiate what is important and what is noise.

I’ve been reading about the 100 Things Challenge. A challenge to reduce the number of personal possessions to 100. The thought is daunting. The amount of stuff I have accumulated is depressing. Thinking about all the things piled in the garage, basement, and attic felt like a huge millstone around my neck. It’s always there to be dealt with, organized, cared for, and managed. And most of it is never used. Some has never been used. Items or consumption that at one point in time I thought I could not live without. I think about this when I ride. On the road life is simple. I just want to extend that throughout my life.

The Reappearance of Posts

For the past two months I have read a lot of comments and references to the termination of Scooter in the Sticks. It was never my intent to terminate, merely to retreat for a while to focus on other things. And as things developed I would post again. I’m not sure how often but I prefer to think of Scooter in the Sticks as more indolent.

Anyways, it’s been a nice vacation.