Last Sunday morning I rode 153 miles with my friend Paul Ruby to see how the latest addition to his two-wheeled fleet performed. Paul just purchased a 2000 Kawasaki Concours which joins his Vespa and Ducati as riding options.

Arriving at his place at 8AM found the Concours still under wraps and the Ducati up on a jack. Paul came out the door, cast aside the cover and we were on our way – almost. Before the ride could commence fully he had to stop to pick up the Sunday New York Times.

Paul lets me lead so I can stop when I want to take pictures. I worry a bit that I am traveling too slow but the Kawasaki seems content in my rear view mirrors. Heading west into the Moshannon State Forest I stop to look at some cimicifugia racemosa.

Kim calls them fairy candles and they are also known as Black Cohosh or Black Snakeroot. Paul takes the stop as an opportunity for more coffee and a breakfast banana.

From there it’s on through Black Moshannon State Park and northward over Red Moshannon Creek. The history of coal mining in the region displays itself in the bright orange streams fallen victim to acid mine drainage. This damage will last pretty much forever I’m told.

During a stop to look out over the West Branch of the Susquehanna River you can see some of the contamination seeping in but the greater water volume seems to dilute it.

A growling stomach and short discussion points us to a small eating establishment about 30 miles away. Riding up the Quehanna Highway the Vespa cruises comfortably at 55 MPH until we turn off onto Wycoff Road to head towards Sinnemahoning and a hearty breakfast at the Willows, the only place to eat for miles around that I know of.

I was hungry so I didn’t get any pictures of breakfast. You all know what bacon and eggs look like. It was good. If you get up this way stop here to eat.

Getting ready to leave we see a pack of BMW bikes cross the bridge and head towards Renovo. They are packed and riding fast somewhere. Following their path I think about how fast I am comfortable riding and it’s pretty slow. Traffic on these rural roads still wants to go fast and I tend to let the occasional car or truck go by at 70 MPH. Those 55 MPH signs are a waste of tax dollars.

As always I want to see things and tend to move along at a more relaxed pace and Paul seems content to do the same.

I pull over to look at the river and Paul makes a portrait of me.

While I’m looking around he amuses himself with a short piece of lumber he finds along the road.

I guess the ride just isn’t enough.

We stop one more time so I can look out over the river and valley and take a few pictures. My low fuel light comes on before we get to Renovo but I’m not worried—gas is just a few miles away. The gas station is closed. The only gas station around is closed, probably because of the fire that must have just occurred in the past few days.

With the low fuel light on and two bars showing on the fuel indicator we cross the river and head south to the next gas station in Snow Shoe about 36 miles away. I’m comfortable that I have enough fuel and the fact that there is little traffic and no cell coverage doesn’t bother me. When the fuel indicator drops to one bar before we even get to the top of the plateau I start to wonder how I might move fuel from the Kawasaki to the Vespa. Then it starts to rain.

A quick stop to pull on raingear and take a picture of one of the out of place rocks that sort of appear here and there we are on our way. I keep the scooter at around 40 MPH thinking I am going to stretch the fuel supply and maintain a light touch on the throttle as the last bar on the fuel indicator disappears. I’m actually surprised to make it to the gas station in Snow Shoe without running out of gas. Even more surprised that I had 3/10 of a gallon left when I got there. Sometime I am going to have to run the tank dry to see how far I can really go.

Getting closer to home Paul and I part ways. I didn’t register any reasons why the relatively small Vespa and the large touring Kawasaki couldn’t ride all day together if there was no need to chew up miles or ride at high speeds on the Interstate. For touring around like we did it was fine. I know I could ride a lot faster but that interferes with most of the goals I have while riding

Saturday morning and I depart on the Vespa. The ride prepares me for the day. During the week the ride to work does it. Kim and I planned to take a trip later in the morning so my ride was necessarily short but I’ve found that I don’t need a lot of time on the scooter to settle down.

The sun was just coming over the trees, burning through the fog when I stopped at the crossing of Rock and Trout roads. Both signs indicate something about central Pennsylvania.

I’m always lured by unfamiliar or seldom traveled roads. Early morning finds many of the roads here empty and easy to just stop on the scooter and take a picture.

Moments later I pass a flock of wild turkeys but the camera is safely packed away. Traveling slowly I can hardly maintain my forward progress because I keep wanting to stop and take pictures. And there are always more roads and lanes and tracks to follow.

Surprises like the turkeys and new paths seem to always appear. Not always welcome though like suddenly coming upon a stinking section of road that was freshly oiled and chipped.

Something about spraying oil all over the road and dropping gravel and then more oil seems wrong. The rain last night had streaks of this stuff going everywhere. I haven’t wanted to look under the Vespa.

Spring Creek, a cold water stream and excellent trout stream is the recipient of whatever runs off these roads. Just can’t be good. The water looks clear.

My stomach gets the best of me and I stop in Bellefonte for breakfast.

One of the advantages of being an early morning person is that you often have the world to yourself. Many of my short rides have me home before a lot of people are moving around.

After breakfast I wandered home, ready for the day, thanks to another short flight on the Vespa.

Roads and highways are designed for machines not people. Maybe that’s why often feel out of place stopped alongside one taking pictures or exploring the areas most people rush by. Count up all the miles of roads and that’s a lot of ground that has been delegated to invisibility beyond the general view.

I’ve passed the road cut in the picture above countless times in a car but never stopped to really look at it. It’s easy to stop on the Vespa and it never feels inconvenient no matter how many times I stop to look at a plant, rock, or view. It’s one of the strengths of a small scooter. In the car all the details are filtered away by speed and separation from the road. I’ve wondered if the same might be true if I were riding a bigger scooter or motorcycle—would I be seduced into the same rapid pace as a car? Judging by the other riders I see the answer would be yes.

My friend Frank Armstrong believes you need to be traveling no faster than 35 MPH to see anything photographically. (Correct me if I have this wrong Frank). I have found that to be true and when I used to explore in my truck it was painful to crawl along roads at 25 MPH. It just felt wrong. On the Vespa it feels just fine.

So I’m not sure how versatile and useful a motorcycle would be to me for the kind of riding experience I seek. Hard to imagine feeling comfortable and satisfied astride a Triumph Scrambler or BMW 1200 GS Adventure all afternoon at 35 MPH. If some manufacturer what’s me to test the theory with an extended loan I’ll experiment. Maybe I’m wrong.

I stopped again along Route 322 just to look at the road wind over the hill. How often do I stop in the truck?

I didn’t have any destination in mind on this ride and just kept wandering along turning and stopping as the whim hit me. Heading toward Black Moshannon State Park I passed Hannah Furnace Road.

A quick U-turn and off I go down a road that I hadn’t been on before. Asphalt turns to gravel and I have the chance to practice my skills a bit more until I am comfortable running along at 30 MPH without feeling like the scooter is going down at any moment.

After a few stops to look at plants and birds I rode on until joining US 322 again and headed home. Only traveled about 70 miles but it was a nice, relaxed ride…