Scooter in the Sticks

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

Surrendering to the Experts

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After some gentle but direct nudging from an bass fishing expert on the West coast I rode my Vespa to Kissell Motorsports in State College, Pennsylvania and surrendered it into the care of the capable service staff to replace the broken centerstand.

This bass fishing expert (who never posts here) sent me an email reminding me of the obvious — that I ride, not repair.  He’s right of course but I got the idea into my head that I wanted to do all the work.  I have no doubt I could do it but history indicates I would take my good old time getting around to it.  At the end of the day I’m more interested in riding.

So here’s the GTS leaning against a shed with a bungee cord holding up the center stand which now prefers to drag on the ground.

While there I had the chance to covet this yellow and black (a favorite combination) BMW R1200 GS parked outside of Kissell Motorsports.  The thought occurred to me that it would be nice to have two machines so that if one was in for repair I would still have something to ride.  I had some plans for this weekend but those are out the window now.  No Vespa, no ride.  My dog Junior will try and pencil something into my schedule.

Parts will have to be ordered but I should see the Vespa again next week.  In addition to all the other things outlined in the previous post I also suggested they do the valve lash adjustment.  So things should be in pretty good shape by next week.

Lesson in Acceptance

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7am.  Sitting in the driveway ready to ride a few miles down the road for breakfast.  The plan was for my daughter and I to take a Sunday morning ride — her on the Yamaha Vino and me on the steady Vespa. My friend Gordon inquired the previous evening about Sunday morning plans and I invited him along.

Three scooters on the road.  A good plan. And like all plans subject to change.

At around 4am I received a text message from Aleta that she would probably not make the launch. Another from Gordon indicating a short delay. An unforeseen opportunity to sort through the stuff under the seat of the Vespa.

Making our way through the scenic farmlands of Penns Valley, past a dozen or more Amish buggys, families on their way to Sunday services.

Acceptance.  At this point we’re riding towards our second choice of eating establishments — the Inglebean Coffee House in Millheim, Pennsylvania.  Our first breakfast target, The Whistle Stop in Centre Hall, was closed.

Arriving in Millheim only to find the Inglebean closed.  Not a problem; I know of a restaurant about 15 miles farther up the road near Hartleton.

No luck, the place had burned down.

Mifflinburg is only 8 miles away: We can have breakfast at the Scarlet D.

Closed.  As is the Carriage House restaurant.  Lewisburg is only 10 miles away where we finally find food.  Leave it to a college town (Bucknell University) to have a place open on Sunday.

Can’t remember the name of the place we ate but the food was good and the parking excellent. What started as a five mile ride to breakfast turned into a 50 mile journey.

Acceptance.

After a few pictures of the Vespas (scooter porn) it was time to head home.  One great thing about central Pennsylvania is the endless routes to get somewhere.  No north-south-east-west grids for us.

The two scooters with Gordon and I aboard wandered through the mountains and forests that consume most of this area.  For anyone wondering about how these scooters perform — a Vespa GTS250ie and a GTS300 Super — well, they move through these roads effortlessly up and down the mountains.  Speed is limited more by the skill of the rider than displacement.

Weather was perfect and traffic light to non-existent.  If only we had more time…

Not wanting to pass up an opportunity to utilize fuel fit for NASCAR and test performance we made the pit stop.  Can’t speak for Gordon but I sensed both increased power and respect from other drivers.

What kind of gas was that?  Sunoco maybe???

And that’s how things shook out.  Change in plans, more changes, etc.  Forgot to invite Paul Ruby who inquired about a ride.  Damn.  Wonder what else I forgot.  I think I fed Junior.  Washed behind my ears.  Forgot to shave.

Damn great fun regardless.  Just need a bit of acceptance…

The Common Sense of Morning

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Regardless of how hectic or chaotic an hour, day or week might be, a morning ride on the Vespa wipes away the noise.  Road, wind and motion, that quiet meditation where all the world seems exactly as it should be.  Or so it seems.

State College, Pennsylvania last Sunday morning, oddly empty, as if all the world was still asleep.

Why does the dawn come at such an inconvenient time of day?

The Only Journey is the One Within

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“The only journey is the one within.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke

And so a new day begins, a short journey from home to work save for the meandering divergence from the precise, economical, predictable route.  Birds chuckle and the faint scent of grass lingers in the air; a few wandering steps following the camera’s eye.  Meetings today, one, two, three I think.  And then the thought is gone, wiped away by the sharp, crackling of boot on gravel.

And the journey continues, short, small, significant in mind and memory.

The world when observed with a Vespa…

Rain

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This morning I decided to ride in the rain to Saint’s Cafe in State College, Pennsylvania.  Watching the Weather.com radar map on my iPhone I postulated that I could make it into town before the orange and red blobs arrived.

I was wrong.

By the time I was on the road the rain started falling faster.  By the traffic light at the end of the street my gloves were soaked and water was pouring through my vented riding pants.

A half mile farther and I could see rivers of water pouring down the right side of the road with occasional tributaries crossing my path.  Another mile and the rain begins to slow slightly as I pull off the road to make this photograph.  The stream snaking through the pasture isn’t a stream.  It’ one of those ephemeral waterways only coming to life during particularly hard, fast, heavy downpours.

Probably not the best day to ride.

An hour later the sky was blue and the sun was shining.  I was mostly dry save for my gloves and I was thinking I really need to get a rainsuit for riding.  The foul weather sailing gear I use just isn’t designed to deal with a helmet.

It was a great ride though rain and all…