For many riders this is the season of non-riding. Temperatures drop, road surfaces lose friction, and bike and scooter gas tanks brim with Stabil or are drained to desert conditions. Others have suggested what I try and tell myself—it’s pretty normal to not be riding now and once the weather warms then you’ll be riding. This conversation is predicated on me getting my Vespa in running condition again and that it is probably going to take weeks and months rather than hours and days.

The unseasonably warm weather doesn’t help. Driving my truck to work for the past couple weeks through perfect riding weather did not go unnoticed. And I define perfect riding weather as anything above 20° F and the roads are dry. It hasn’t dropped below that temperature yet and we’ve have snow on the road for a few hours on one day. So the winter has been continual riding weather. And I sit in the cab of a Ford Ranger listening to the Beach Boys thinking about riding.

I haven’t despaired over the loss and the search for options and engines is not without a great deal of interest and excitement. Sort of like a scavenger hunt and I am amazed at how many people have come forward to help in the search. I really appreciate it and am reminded of how many things in life I have to be grateful for. Amidst this gratitude flickers a flame that seeks nothing other than to be on the road, moving through the landscape, riding on a scooter. Desire seeps into night dreams and day dreams, doodles in meetings run through cost figures and ride routes. This must be the onset of riding withdrawal for a year round rider.

The reality of driving a cage has already assaulted my fiscal sensibility. A parking permit adds $36 a month not counting parking fees at garages and meters. I’ve taken for granted all the free parking for motorcycles and my $24 per year parking permit. And my insurance will rise now that I am a cage commuter. The rudest and largest insult occurred at the fuel pump when I pumped $39 into a gas tank not even empty. And now it is almost empty. I didn’t put that much fuel into the Vespa in a long, long time. Insult and withdrawal.

A course of action regarding the Vespa has not been determined. I have four options that appear on scraps of paper and in my head. Even while I write this I am thinking of them. I have many other things I can do beside ride the scooter, but the enjoyment and fuel for living well I get from riding is unique and I feel its loss. I don’t know how those of you who have parked your rides for many winters do it. It’s time now for me to climb down out of the pity throne and take the dog of my dreams for a head clearing walk!

I’ve taken a few vacation days this year to have some time before Christmas to indulge in all the holiday business in a slower and more manageable manner. With the tree behind me and all the lights up on the house I’ve been focusing on last minute gifts. I don’t want to share too much about that in case Kim should read this before the magic morning.

Yesterday morning it was sunny and 27° F, perfect weather to take the scooter out for a few errands. I really did have good intentions to take care of some business but the road has a way of drawing out the wanderlust in me and I had to take a few detours. I sort of rationalized that I might find an antique store in one of the rural communities I could ride through but when I turned off the paved road to follow a dirt road up on to the mountain I knew I was just having fun. The bright sun, cold clear air and the fragrance of conifers made the slow ride up the mountain a dream.

I should add here that this was also the first test of Kim’s Christmas present to me — a MotoFizz seat bag just recently arrived from AeroStich.

I opted for the folding rear rack on the Vespa rather than the hard topcase. But there are times when I want to have a little extra protected storage space and after a long search decided on this one. And Kim checked the naughty and nice list twice and determined I should have it. I first saw these bags on the Adventure Rider site and it seems perfect. This is the small version and has plenty of space for camera, windbreaker, gloves, thermos, and other odds and ends. Tiny compared to some of the saddlebags and hard cases I see on motorcycles but for the simple minded (that doesn’t sound right) it is perfect. There is a good review of the bags by Bob Stokard of City Bike — READ THE REVIEW OF MOTOFIZZ BAGS

Riding over the mountain and back down the other side I decided to take a route I had never visited on the scooter. I remembered this part of the valley as isolated and a place where failed farms had been absorbed back into meadows and woods. As I rode along it didn’t take long to see a different transition in progress — meadows and woods turning into homes, small estates and gentleman farms. One in particular had hundreds of acres of empty pasture fenced with 12-foot high fences. Seems this particular place had elk.

I only saw three in the whole place but the land did run over a ridge so there could have been hundreds somewhere I suppose.

This trend remained the rest of the ride. The sprawl of development just keeps growing and growing. As the roads get wider, smoother and straighter the easy of commuting makes homebuilding in more distance places palatable I suppose. There is still a lot of rural space around though and it makes scooting in the sticks a lot of fun!

I had been thinking for the past few weeks that I would bring my tree home on the Vespa this year from the local Christmas tree farm where we always get our tree. Or almost always. One year Kim and I decided we wanted to populate our yard with many Christmas trees. We didn’t want to spend the money on balled and bagged live trees so we improvised. The students at our local University would be leaving for the holiday break and that departure would leave many beautiful Christmas trees on the ground next to dumpsters at the dorm complexes. A simple drive in the truck allowed a collection of about 10 trees. Some post holes dug around the yard and as if by magic a Christmas tree forest. But I digress.

Back to the wisdom of thinking I could transport a tree home on the Vespa. I rode out to the Tait Farm to choose this year’s tree. When I pulled into the parking lot I was the only Vespa and my arrival triggered a friendly conversation about the wisdom of dragging a tree home on the scooter. I was not to be dissuaded. After all, I was only going to get a small five-foot Christmas tree. They sent me over to aisle 1A because this year I wanted a Fraser Fir. It didn’t take long to find the perfect tree but it did take a bit longer to saw it down. The warm weather had the sap running and the handsaw kept binding in the wet wood. And aside on motorcycle riding clothes is in order. I have been riding for many months with the First Gear jacket and Tourmaster Overpants in all weathers and conditions but lying on the ground to saw down this tree made me dirtier than all those months of riding. I did the best I could to clean the mud off when I got home but I’m afraid the bright yellow of the jacket will show the battle scars of getting a Christmas tree. Again I digress.

The friendly folks at Tait Farm cleaned the tree up nicely on the tree shaker and then pulled it through something that compressed and wrapped the tree in twine. This was a first since in the past I just threw the tree into the back of the truck. The real fun started when it was time to leave. Everyone was laughing about me taking the tree home on the Vespa — the good kind of laughing. I was asked if a picture could be taken for their Web site that I happily accommodated.

Now it was time to load the tree onto the scooter. In picking a tree I went with one I liked and it turned out to be seven and a half feet tall rather than five. No matter though, still not as wide as a Ford Excursion. The tree went on the rack easily and it took only two bungee cords to secure it in place and head home. I have to admit that it felt a little exciting, like I did when I was a kid and went with my parents to get a tree. More riding magic I guess.

Lots of smiles and waves as I rode out towards the highway. I had to make a choice here based on the tree. Turning left would be the most direct route home but would take me for a few miles in traffic wanting to go 60 MPH. Turning right would take me to a farm lane in a few hundred yards that would allow me to travel at a more reasonable tree transport speed. I chose right.

Out on the highway I did the few hundred yards at 50 MPH. Had I not seen the shadow of the tree on the road I would not have know it was back there at all. As soon as I turned onto the farm lane I regretted not taking the faster route.

The gravel road had been partially graded and had some really large loose gravel on it. The Vespa doesn’t do well in that so I slowly rode along with the wheels floating in the gravel. Eventually the surface returned to its more normal packed gravel. When I got on the paved road home I easily managed 50 MPH and could have done so all day and the rush of air didn’t seem to harm the tree needles. There was a lot of smiles and pointing from on coming traffic and I was glad I could spread some Christmas spirit.

A stop at the Pump Station Cafe for hot chocolate before going home was in order and gave me a few moments to reflect on what is sure to be a new Christmas tradition at our house. I’m hoping that next Christmas Kim and I will both be riding out to Tait Farm on our respective scooters!

Pulling into the driveway revealed the Vespa to be the growing workhorse in the family and by mileage along it is out in front of the car and truck. So, for any of you scooter or motorcycle riders who still need a tree and feel inclined to contribute to the Christmas spirit, grab a few bungee cords and head to your local Christmas tree enterprise and maybe you’ll get to experience some of that magic reserved most of the time for kids!

Some days something small can trigger an unexpected line of thinking

Life unveils bumps in the road and regardless of preparation it’s hard to know how a person will react. The monster under the bed came become real. With riding it is the mishap on the road, the near miss, the crash, the untimely demise of a stranger focuses attention on the dark side of riding. Riders deal with these events in a variety of ways — training, rationalization, denial or some combination that allows the ride to continue. Or not.

I know the risks in the same way a climber, scuba diver, or backpacker does. Careful preparation, assessment of skill and risk, and decisions made with my eyes open is what I try and do in riding and any other activity that moves me away from the relative safety of home. What I find curious is what happens after an unfortunate event, the kind that would have me asking, “Do I want to keep riding?” I believe I can manage the risk I assume to be safe while riding but I wonder how I would feel if something happened. I know more than a handful of people who have stopped riding after their first accident. I wonder if they suddenly became aware of new information or had they never really accepted the risk? Or was the prospect of riding again too frightening?

When I passed the half-century mark I began to wonder how many years I had left and what would I do if my health or well-being were threatened through accident or illness. I want to believe I would have no regrets and made my decisions with my eyes open. There remains a part of me though that wonders if I am kidding myself. I know we are all riding to the same place but it’s easy to keep that destination hidden from view, from thought, from consideration.

The culture I see in magazines and television offer a bright, carefree and positive road for me to ride on if I want to pay the price. The sun always shines on that road and it’s easy to believe only good things will happen. If I am honest about the risk I assume while riding I know that the sun doesn’t always shine on the road. The possibility exists that I could pass under a gray cloud. There was a time that I would probably consider this subject morbid and not suited for polite conversation (or blogging). That thinking has given way to something different, an understanding that a ride down the road with my eyes open and mind fully aware of the good and bad is more human and alive than any yellow brick road I can conjure.

UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE!
When I got up this morning I looked at the Midwest Scooter Enthusiast blog written by Roadbum. He has an excellent post that talks about learning to be still so you can pay attention to the world and your thoughts. I wrote about some of my thoughts while riding but Roadbum has really put his finger on something bigger. Take a few minutes to look at Sit Down and Shut Up.

I borrowed this title from a line in Jon Krakauer’s book “Into the Wild”, an account of a young man who literally walks away from his life. The story describes a rebellion against the pressures of modern life — a topic that permeates, to various degrees, many of the writings of motorcycle riders.

I am reminded over and over again the power riding has to pull the veil from the routine of living and the gap between life and living. Riding in cold weather tendsto strip away everything but the road, the scooter, and the actions I take. Life is simple and full of purpose making speed and lane position decisions, considering route and other vehicles, listening to the sound of the engine. It’s in these moments that I realize how light I can feel and how heavy life can become through the decisions I make in the name of comfort, style, and conformity, all things related to consuming more and more things. Riding reminds me of the fleeting nature of things and the power of experience and action.

I’m thinking about the credit card advertisement that lists the prices of several items and then ends with something like “walking with your daughter in the snow – priceless”. Maybe the other items in the list aren’t that important and more time should be spent in action rather than shopping, acquiring, owning.

I stopped along this gravel road on the way home to look at the light in the woods as the sun went down and I remembered a statement made by photographer Edward Weston many years ago when asked why he did not own a car. He suggested that a person must weight the cost of ownership in terms of what he must give up in freedom to own something. He was speaking of how buying and ownership affects the need to use time to earn money. Weston was careful to weigh this transaction carefully so that he could pursue his life rather than spend it paying for things.

Being happy and near the wild heart of life doesn’t come automatically. I think it has to be earned through careful and deliberate action. Riding safely requires careful and deliberate action and offers a practical method of experience that can move us closer to that wild heart of life.