Scooter in the Sticks

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

Riding at Dawn

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There is no better time to ride than at dawn. To be present to watch the genesis of a new day. To be happy and alive and riding on the earth. Those minutes between the glow of light and the first rays of sunlight are magical regardless of how I experience them. Looking out across the landscape at a group of trees in the fog reminds me of how simple things are.

At dawn the roads are empty. I watch more for deer than for vehicles. The temperature was 62 degrees and chilly as it poured through my vented jacket and t-shirt. Stopping for pictures gave me a moment to warm. On this day the sun was scheduled to arrive at 5:50 and since I didn’t get on the road until 5:40 I didn’t have much time.

On Saturday morning I was off for a 60-mile ride to meet my father-in-law Bob and swap my Vespa GTS for his Vespa ET4. I was bringing the ET4 back for service at the local Vespa dealer Kissell Motor Sports. I was only 12 miles from home as the sun swept out across the landscape.

Patches of fog diminished the full force of sunlight and a few times disappeared as I rode through some areas of dense fog. Fog is challenging. My scanning behind me becomes as intense as ahead. Pre-planning exit strategies for things fore and aft are appropriate in these conditions. The fog didn’t last long and the day was upon me.

Aside from a brief stop to inspect some water slides I rode directly to the meeting place and breakfast. Part of me wants to go back to those water slides when they’re open. Seems wrong that they are wasted on kids. They can have fun with a cardboard box. I require a more refined experience.

The switch from the GTS to the ET4 was noticeable both in size of the machine and in performance. Acceleration was noticeably less, stability was reduced, and a comfortable cruising speed was lower. The human brain is a wonderful thing though and by the time I stopped at Gardners Candies in Tyrone for a treat the ET4 felt pretty much like the GTS.

I didn’t stop much to shoot pictures on the way home. It was getting hot and the light was boring. I was reminded though of how easily the smaller scooter handles the road and can easily eat up miles all day long.

I’ll make the trip again after the ET4 is serviced. At breakfast I met a friend of Bob’s who has a new Triumph Bonneville that needs service. The next ride I may be shuttling a motorcycle instead of a scooter.

No Age Limit

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From time to time I wonder how long I’ll be able to ride. It happened today while slogging along a grass road. Grass does a good job hiding ruts, groundhog holes, and other jarring obstacles for little scooter tires and nice taps and twinges to aging joints. It’s during those episodes that I can start feeling old.

This past year I’ve noticed subtle changes that affect riding. An active imagination can easily construct a doomed future. The end of riding and beyond. These changes come in the form of increased hand and wrist pain, reduced tolerance to cold, and increased resistance to riding in adverse conditions. When occupied in this mental arena I search for evidence of continued activity and accomplishment. At an art museum recently I was doing age calculations of the artists – subtracting their birth date from the date of a work’s creation hoping for evidence that good things continue to happen.

When I stumbled upon Piaggio’s marketing project – NO AGE LIMIT – I was thrilled to see two riders in their 70’s riding across America.

Buddy and Bob are riding MP3 500’s from San Francisco to New York. Last time I checked they were in the Midwest. It’s a nice story and they have lots of pictures, maps and information about the trip. For many the ride is the most interesting part of the story but for me it’s the fact that these guys are still out there riding. I’ve always had in the back of my mind that when I got older or less sure on my feet that I would opt for one of those three-wheeled wonders. I guess Piaggio was thinking the same thing.

Simple Living and the Pink Bike

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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.

Secret Places in the Ordinary

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I have driven or ridden by this place for over 25 years and never saw it.  It’s a small ravine surrounded by trees in the middle of a farm field.  An ephemeral stream that runs into a grotto and disappears.  This place lives in the spring and vanishes as the world dries and the weeds grow up to hide it’s secrets.  I’ve literally spent weeks of my life in this specific area but never managed to stop and walk into the trees to see what was hidden within.  The extent of my blinders never fails to amaze me.

This morning I had time for a short brisk ride under gray skies.  I chose a wet mud and stone road running along powerlines to explore.  I try and bring fresh eyes to places but what I see depends on where my head goes.  Thoughts of what I wanted to do today keep me from the empty mind that often works best when riding and making photographs.

A few miles down the road I decided that I really should get home and process film for my 3 Prints Project.  One last picture in the woods and I turned around to take a lazy ride home.

Riding through town I stopped to take one picture to demonstrate that there is some civilization in the sticks.  I’ve read a few references to Scooter in the Sticks lately that wonder aloud if there are any people or towns around.  Indeed there are and the pictures here are merely a representation of the places I’m drawn to.  Without much effort I bet I could produce Scooter in Hell with all the necessary traffic, bad roads, ugly places needed to convince someone how nasty it is to ride here.
I just try and make sure that I don’t let the nastiness overwhelm the beauty that is all around and right in front of me.

The Plain Ride

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My rides are ordinary and often uneventful. If I don’t pay attention they can be boring.

Reading through a variety of motorcycle and scooter blogs the other day I realized that my rides are pretty plain. Nothing I do as a rider is beyond the reach of an enthusiastic beginner. I don’t push the performance envelope and I don’t ride long distances. My rather conventional use of the scooter for transportation and Sunday rides in the country have more in common with an Amish Buggy than the motorcycles and scooters I often read about. I’ve recently read about Matua’s plans for a 30 thousand mile ride crisscrossing North America as part of his Vespadition project to promote kindness, compassion and volunteerism. Or Sojourner’s plans to ride in the South and address some fears and cognitive dissonance. I don’t undertake adventures like that. Perhaps someday but for now my riding is confined to commuting to work and the longer exploration as time permits. My riding world is closer to home and I have found that if I pay close attention, really look at what is around me, that those plain rides are new almost every time.

This morning I made a short detour before riding to work. Fog and mist seldom fail to excite my imagination and I covet any time I can spend in it. It was cold and damp though and the steady sprinkle had my hands soaked and aching in no time. The Gerbing Electric Gloves stayed stored away since they aren’t waterproof. Rides like this are akin to walks through a familiar park. If I pay attention each visit reveals new secrets.

The camera helps with revelations. Standing at the edge of the forest looking at the digital image on the back of the camera I was reminded of how much I like to be alone. Need to be alone. I take my solitude in large measures if I can. Each time I read about group rides and events I tell myself I should participate someday. Then I ride on alone.

On the way home from work I made a few more small detours that would bring me along a few open vistas. I stopped to make this picture of the gray sky overhead. I was surprised how insignificant the Vespa seemed in the landscape. I was careful managing that insignificance in the eyes of other drivers as I made my way home. Another plain ride.