Magic moments — sunrise and sunset — the time of day where the world is a painting.  Flying through the colored light on a Vespa, breathing in the glow of the world, my god how sweet life is.  And for a few moments I can hear Jon Anderson whispering,  “Dream on, on to the heart of the sunrise…”

Showing my age.

Ducati Men. My friends Ken Hull and Paul Ruby posing this morning on the way to Way Fruit Farm in Stormstown, Pennsylvania for breakfast.  A few miles down the road we’d run into a rural traffic jam — three turkeys in the middle of the road resisting being herded off the pavement by a guy on an ATV and another on a bicycle.  Should of stopped to make a picture but, well, I’ve seen turkeys on the road before.

The ride this morning reminded me of a question I hear a lot — should I get a scooter or a motorcycle?  A few days ago I was talking with a woman about her choice of motorcycles and she explained that friends told her she wouldn’t be able to keep up on a 650cc bike she was considering and ended up choosing a Honda 1100cc Shadow instead.  I was tempted to ask how fast her friends rode but remained silent.

Riding this morning my mind worked over the scooter vs. motorcycle question.

For me the answer depends on needs and choices in these three areas:

1.  Form — the physical being of the machine.  Size, shape, looks, chrome, power, wheel size, lights, seat height, etc.  Choices in this area are guided by all sorts of real and imagined desires and needs.  It often comes down to “I like the looks of that.”.

2.  Function — how the machine performs.  Speed, handling, comfort, maintenance.  All the on the road riding stuff that gets you where you’re going, handles the route you’ve chosen, and keeps you safe and comfortable.  As straightforward as this seems there is a lot of denial and delusion at work about all of this stuff.

3.  Ego — what an individual requires to feel “ok” in the world.  Just like clothes, hairstyle, and a million other little things, a person can be driven or influenced by what they think others think of them.  Or how they brand themselves.  Of the three areas I believe this is the decider.  No matter how much sense a choice makes in area one or two, it has no chance at all if the ego says no.

So what about a scooter vs. a motorcycle?  I can’t speak for anyone but me.  Here’s what I know:

1. My 250cc Vespa can keep up with any motorcycle riding legally and safely.  With a top speed of 75mph it’s a not issue on backroads or the freeway.  Certainly more work to ride a light scooter at high speeds but it is possible.

2.  A scooter isn’t as rugged.  Speaking about my Vespa I can say it has been pretty reliable save for things I overlooked.  As 23K miles nears on the odometer I feel comfortable it can go another 23K without issue.  I’ve read of riders surpassing the 50K mark without needing any rebuilds or reworking.

3.  A scooter isn’t good offroad.  Well, depends what you are doing.  I’ve ridden offroad with mine but would want more aggressive tires if I was going to do a lot of it.  And it absolutely can’t handle water crossings of any depth beyond a couple inches deep.  The air intake is low and will suck in water and make you sad.

My gut feeling about why people shy away from scooters are feelings that they aren’t serious vehicles, they’re too light weight and underpowered, and they just don’t fit a lot of rider’s idea of who they are as a rider.  And that’s fine.  Choosing a machine is personal and you should choose something you like and feel comfortable with.

But don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t keep up or that you’ll be worn out after a day on a Vespa.

Horse apples.

Besides, a Vespa is far easier to negotiate practically anything over a Harley, BMW, Ducati, or any motorcycle.  In my humble opinion and based on a lot of miles on a lot of different motorcycles.

And it is far easier to use in the winter when you may run into snow or ice.  A LOT easier.

Paul and Ken get pretty animated after spending some time astride their Ducati’s.  When they ride their BMW and Harley respectively they’re quiet, almost somber, lost in thought and worrying about what people think about them on the road.

Maybe I’m projecting.

Anyways, it was a great way to start a Saturday morning, good ride to breakfast, had to deal with rain on the way home but that’s just part of the riding experience.

Fog and a gray white morning seeps into my body before I’m fully awake, drawing me from bed, whispering abandonment of all things save to be on the road.  Riding towards work a line from Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Pit and the Pendulum” — Break the Gossamer Web of Some Dream swept through my head.  I’d read that story just a few days earlier and now here it was again.  Riding like a dream.

Those rides, dreamlike and dripping with excited expectation that world will be different, the view over the next will will be completely unknown and I’ll enter a world so foreign that I may lose my way.

Those possibilities are why I have no Garmin on the scooter and seldom have a map.  How can that knowledge ever match the power of a dream?

Across the northern wilderness and for a precious moment I am lost in a world where providence still lives.  And then the web dissolves and I know exactly where I am and where all roads lead — another Vespa ride to work.

Still, how promising a start to a day.

Early this morning, on my way to meet Aleta and ride with her to her first riding day of the MSF course — five hours of focused training on a riding range.  Moments like these are quiet, serene and the weight of the world evaporates like smoke.

Too bad a person can’t ride all the time.

I need to do something — life seems like it’s spinning out of control. Or maybe I’m just plain stupid and getting worse as time marches on. I’ve always enjoyed repeating one of my dad’s favorite retorts to many of life’s crappy situations — “It’s hell to get old.” but lately the evidence seems to be gathering to direct support that theorem. All roads lead to the reclining chair in the living room of late, the weight of my ass dragging me down and my brain with it.

That sounded odd.

Kim is on the phone laughing at something Jack Riepe, renowned author, BMW rider, humorist and sage, is telling her. Seems as if they’re talking about Cher….

Radical Acceptance.

The title of a book Kim shared with me by Tara Brach, a clinical psychologist and Buddhist teacher, that might help. Help with some of the telltale signs of things going wrong in that strange way that you feel for each step forward you’ve taken three backwards. The book promises some help in sorting things out.

We’ll see.

A few hours ago while doing some last minute trimming on a Forsythia I managed to cut the phone line coming into the house. Nice clean cut. No phone, no DSL, no Netflix, no nothing.

Shit. Damn it. I just want to sit in the reclining chair.

So off I go, tools in hand and a never say die attitude to fix things. That’s what I do, it’s programmed genetically, I fix things. I’m just not that good at it. So I make an ugly repair using lots of electrical tape and a few sharp instruments and was only shocked once when that 90 volt DC charge appeared as someone was calling the house.

Just the tip of the iceberg.

A couple weeks ago I changed the rear tire on the Vespa and almost immediately it began losing air pressure. Pump it up to 32 psi and two hours later it drops to 20psi. So multiple times a day I’m putting air in the tire.

Relentless. Over and over I’m pushing the boulder up the hill. Until today.

Right after I fixed the phone line I pulled the rear tire off the scooter. Just what I wanted to do, roll around on the driveway, pull the exhaust, the shock, the tire. Ugh.

I deduced the problem had to be a leaky tire valve. My lazy ass didn’t install a new one when I put the new tire on. Or the seal around the wheel was faulty because I didn’t clean it well and some dirt or grit was letting air escape. Never occurred to me to look for punctures though. After 15 minutes of soapy water exploring and finding nothing I look at the tread and there it is — a big nail, now all nicely ground down from the 500 or so miles I’ve ridden in 10 mile increments. That nail must have gone in the tire during the first few miles of riding.  So close to the tire change that I had to think it was my fault.

It’s always my fault.

I’m not changing that tire myself. I’m paying someone to do it.

Life hasn’t been limited to boneheaded maneuvers. Some of it is just part of a wave of regular responsibilities that at times flood my ability to deal with them.

Like the new toilet project I embarked on — installed the new one but never managed to get the old one beyond the driveway.

When Kim and I determined it might look a little too avant garde for the neighbor hood we dismantled it and have it in the garden as a potential planter. Won’t say how long that took.

Add all that up and the old body isn’t responding too well. The Psoriatic Arthritis I battle is worse when stress levels rise. But I shouldn’t worry. Last time I saw my rheumatologist I inquired how the disease would affect my life span. “Not at all,” he says. “The disease won’t shorten your life. But the drugs may kill you.” Nice to get a straight answer from a medical professional.

And last week I was in the middle of a “cardiac event” for lack of a better term. One of those moments where you actually weigh “If I ignore this it will probably go away,” with “I probably should be smart and go to the hospital before I drop dead.”.  Preliminary tests show no heart attack or obvious structural problems with the heart.  But all the test results aren’t in yet. My money is on stress. Too many multiple nights of three hours of sleep followed by meals of hot dogs, chocolate donuts and ice cream.

I’m not 25 anymore.

It’s hell to get old.

So I’m ready to read this Radical Acceptance book. And trying to push the Vespa back into the daily flow of things. Regardless of what is going on a ride has a calming effect.

Geez…

Aleta is working her way towards becoming a hardcore scooter rider — this picture taken over the weekend during a lull in the rain during a 100 mile ride.  Her first long trip had a little of everything — weather, traffic, distance and winding roads.  Soon she’ll graduate from my guidance to the professional training offered through the Pennsylvania Motorcycle Safety Program.  

I told her a little rain wouldn’t hurt her.

Aleta is riding her Yamaha Vino while I lead the way on the Vespa.  Trying out the Camera Bag 2 app for processing the rainy image.  It says I’m a Hipster…

Technorati Tags: motorcycles, MSF, scooters, Vespa, Camera Bag