Scooter in the Sticks

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

The Slow Ride

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Turning off PA route 45 into an empty field marked the moment of surrender—a transition to something slow and without expectation. It was a sudden and unexpected release of plans to ride far and explore new roads and landscapes. Rolling off the throttle, the speed drops to a pace where I have time to see what’s around me. I’ve chosen the slow ride.

Motorcycle (and scooters) offer a seductive experience of speed and power. Flying along there is a feeling of command and control that doesn’t often appear anywhere else for a lot of people. At least for me.

Riding slow, 20 – 35 MPH, requires effort and commitment. The noise and pace of living tries to push me to go faster, do more, pack as much experience and cover as many miles as possible in the time available. Anything less and I’m shortchanging myself. From that frame of reference the slow ride is something for the meek and feint of heart, those not courageous enough to ride the beast. The slow ride is for scooters.

Standing in the field looking towards the sun soon to crest the ridge I could feel all my plans drift away. I had nowhere to go, no place to be, and nothing to prove. As much as is possible I was free.

At slow speeds I see lots of things to photograph. I stop often, make U-turns, pull over, park the scooter and look around. It doesn’t matter how few miles I travel.

It was 68° F with clear skies when I left just before sunrise. After stopping for cash at an ATM I rode south with no destination in mind save for breakfast somewhere. I turned the Vespa off the road when I saw sunlight begin to lick across a field.

Watching the sun rise reminded me how alive I feel seeing the dawn. It’s the same everywhere for me, mountain, ocean, desert, or city.

On across the valley towards the Scotia Barrens. The temperature had risen to 72° F, fine for a long sleeve shirt and mesh riding jacket.

The Barrens is an odd place though and the unique soils found their radiates heat back into space at night causing unusually low temperatures in the morning, sometimes as much as 30° lower than the surrounding area.

As I entered the woods the sunlight gave way to a light fog and I saw the temperature drop 25° by the time I pulled over to put on another layer of clothes.

Once away from the Barrens it didn’t take long for the fog to vanish and the temperature to reach 68° F. By this time I decided to head back towards town for a cup of tea and blueberry muffin for breakfast to chase away any lingering chill.

Before breakfast I had to stop at a local fruit stand for a Red Delicious and a Honeycrisp apple. This is the time of year where a place like Way’s Fruit Farm shines.

Sitting at a table next to the window in a local Starbucks I began to write this post. That was on September 22. I’m not good but I am slow…

I didn’t go anywhere or do anything but the rushing man’s definition of accomplishment. I wasn’t in a hurry and didn’t need to be anywhere. If I had any cares I must have left them behind somewhere. A slow ride will do that to you.

Small Detour During the Ride to Work

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One thing that’s sure to extend the time it takes to get to work is fog. Not because traffic slows (it doesn’t) but because I choose longer routes and stop more often to take pictures. And the longer trips means I have to get up earlier and that’s only possible if I pay attention the night before to the weather forecast.

Friday morning I was up early to compare the dawn to the forecast. Outside the bedroom window I saw our spruce trees shrouded in fog. It was denser than I thought which meant I couldn’t stop along the shoulderless roads like I could on clear day for fear that someone would run me, the Vespa, or both down as they rushed to work.

I pulled over along the main route into town from the north to clean my visor and take a picture. If I stayed on this road I would be at work in a few minutes. Time for a detour.

The area has many small and winding secondary roads that are ideal for the non-rushed rider. Even more intriguing are the farm lanes that disappear off into fields and woods. Most see little traffic save for those times of year when farm machinery move on them. The one I took is an exception and sees heavy use in the fall when Penn State football fans use it to access some of the sprawling parking areas that surround Beaver Stadium.

Portable lights used when the games are at night dot the landscape and in the fog look more like something out of the X-Files than related to football. I’ve been on this road many times before in rain, snow, and fog and each time it looks different.

After photographing the small group of trees it was time to ride to work. The fog was so wet that the visor stayed up and my glasses dripped with water. About a half mile from my office the fog ended abruptly as the Vespa and I rode into bright sun under a clear blue sky.

As much as possible I try to the rides to and from work from being a boring commute. As short as it is I know that I can make it a miserable chore. Riding makes the commute better than it was driving and much of the success I have is a direct result of the landscape in which I live. I suspect the right frame of mind is even more important.

Vespa Photographs

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I was looking for a picture of my Vespa and realized I had forgotten about a lot of the ones I have made over the past couple years. So I have decided to post them here just for those of you who would like to immerse yourselves in the beauty of the Vespa that appear in Scooter in the Sticks.

While looking through the old posts I was surprised at how fresh the rides were in my head. Seeing the pictures triggered the memories. And I could see how my eye has changed towards the Vespa. These pictures are of my first scooter, an LX150, and the current Vespa GTS 250ie.

And don’t forget to click on the images for a full size version!

So here are some of my favorites….






Sacred Ground

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This past Saturday I decided to ride back to Pittsburgh to visit the places where I grew up and dust off memories. Over 300 miles but the time I returned home. I was on the road at 5:30 AM in order to make the most of the day. The first couple hours the temperature never exceeded 54° F and twice dropped to 48° in some low wooded places. I thought I dressed warm enough but again missed the mark and should have worn my winter riding jacket. I just hate taking it knowing the thermometer will reach 80° later in the day.

I made a stop at a Sheetz convenience store to warm up a bit. While standing outside sipping hot chocolate I struck up a conversation with a man interested in the Vespa. He’s in his mid 70’s and tells me he just bought a Honda Rebel, downsizing because of recent double knee replacement surgery. He wanted to keep riding though. I was glad I ran into him and it was good to hear the riding spirit can weather medical and aging challenges.

Warmed a bit I wanted to get to Pittsburgh as quickly and directly as possible rather than my usually wandering routes. US 22 was the quickest path to the city and four-lane highway the whole way. The Vespa GTS 250 easily moved along at 60 to 70 MPH the whole way until exiting into Pittsburgh. I never felt an obstacle to traffic or unsafe. Without a windscreen you feel the trip as the wind hits you square in the chest. I like the reminder that I’m moving.

The Pittsburgh skyline has changed a lot since I grew up in the area. The blast furnaces that used to frame the eastward approach are gone. I rode through the city on surface streets but I wasn’t too interested in spending much time there. I wanted to ride on to Neville Island, the place I grew up.

Neville Island is five miles long and less than a half mile wide. When I lived there we had our own school, fire and police departments, stores, and industry. Lots of industry employing tens of thousands of workers. Three quarters of the island was industrial — blast furnaces, coke ovens, foundries, chemical plants, trucking depots, oil and gas farms, galvanizing plants, steel fabrication, and shipyards.

Crossing over onto the island I was greeted by the smell of chemicals, gas and other industry flavors. I remembered that smell from 44 years ago. I stopped to look down Grand Avenue, a four-lane road with a 35 MPH speed limit that looked exactly the same.

Looking around the blast furnaces are gone and the once well worn through use workspaces now appeared closer to neglect and indifference. Where once everything was alive with activity now seemed quiet. For me only ghosts and memories.

I stopped at the site of the old Shenango Foundry where my father worked for over 30 years as a millwright. Standing at the gate I remembered bringing him dinner with my mother when he worked a double shift.

He would come out to the road with his face black with soot and dirt. This place was a foundry then producing ingot molds for the steel industry. I would look off into the buildings and see the orange glow and smoke of steel being poured from ladle cars brought down by train from the blast furnaces at the end of the island. It was a magical place to me as a kid. I never set foot inside. The foundry has long been closed and all that’s left are shadows. Men spent their lives here in hard labor for good wages. I see something different than the camera when I look at the place.

Just down the road is the Dravo Shipyard where I worker as a welder over 30 years ago building river barges and towboats. During World War II the company produced destroyer escorts and ships to land tanks.

When I worked there the yard worked three shifts seven days a week. Thousands were employed here. Looking out across the yard for a moment I catch a glimpse of the place as it was before it fades in the bright sun. So many lives played out here. Some were lost here. Contributions to a better world are just gone. It feels like sacred ground to me.

Along the river just on the other side of the shipyard is the Neville School. It’s smaller than I remember. Our community had its own kindergarten through 12th grade school. And a football team— the Neville Rivermen. The bus that brought us to school in the morning would take us home for lunch. That’s how small the place was. The decline in industry changed everything here. All along the river would be barges tied up waiting to move up and down the river.

There are still barges there though these may not move again. Trees growing in them don’t bode well for their future. I may have helped build one of these Dravo barges.

The house I grew up in was a mile down the road on Idaho Street. The same concrete street running to the riverbank was there. The same tar seams I used to sit next to on hot days and poke tar bubbles were there.

We lived in this tiny Gunnison home built by United States Steel in 1950. A two-bedroom house built on a 24×30 concrete slab. I knocked on the door and found the man my father sold the house to in 1963. He invited me in to look around and I couldn’t believe how tiny it was. Back then to my kid eyes it was spacious.

The barbeque my father built in the backyard was still there like an anonymous monument to him. Standing there everything seemed small and far away and I just wanted to go home.

The GTS performed flawlessly all day and the trip provided me with an opportunity to push the envelop in city and freeway riding at longer than normal distances. By the time I got home I had put 320 miles on the scooter in 11 hours. Running through Pittsburgh on the parkway towards home gave me a chance to assess how the Vespa did among aggressive drivers. It had more than enough power to travel along in the mess and I was surprised how well the suspension absorbed the sudden potholes without complaint. By the time I entered the Squirrel Hill Tunnel I felt as if I had graduated to neophyte urban rider.

Going through the tunnel at 60 MPH with one hand on the throttle and the other on the shutter button probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do. As punishment for that forward progress ground to a crawl on the other side of the tunnel.

I was started to feel a little tired but still had another 130 miles to go so I fell into line with traffic not stopping until I had left the city far behind.

I had to stretch my back and backside for a few minutes and it was a relief to find a quiet place near the Allegheny Portage Railroad National Historic site.

The remainder of the ride was uneventful save for the growing discomfort in my backside. I felt as if 11 or 12 hours of riding in a day would be about my limit. Any lingering concerns about the touring capabilities of the Vespa GTS 250ie dissolved with this trip. It’s not the machine for everyone but it shouldn’t be pigeonholed as an around town errand runner either. It can handle long distances in its own way. It’s really up to the rider to decide what he or she is after.

Interview with Alessandro Melillo

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A few weeks ago Alessandro Melillo made a post here suggesting that we exchange interviews about the Vespa, riding, and photography. Since Alessandro is from Italy I thought it would be fun to find out how those experiences compare between Central Pennsylvania and the birthplace of Vespa. He documents in words and pictures his travels and observations much like I do in Scooter in the Sticks. Check out his blog l’Insetto Scoppiettante.

After exchanging some questions by email we developed the interviews below that will appear on both out blogs. If you have any questions let us know.

Now on to the interviews!

What’s your name/nickname? Where do you live?

Alessandro Melillo is my real name. I was formerly known as “Sgmund” and I’m nickmaned “RonJe” for awhile because of a joke between me and some local grommits, about… erh… skateboarding gear and a famous porn actor. I have to admit that I’m even a little ashamed! And yes, “grommit” is how kids are called in skateboarding jargon; well, they actually aren’t kids no more, they do vote and drive a car. Time passes for everyone!

I live in Tuscany, on the coast of western central Italy, in a town called Piombino, just in front of Elba island.

What kind of Vespa are you currently riding?

A marvelous LXV 125 with rear and front chrome luggage holder.

Why did you start bloggin’about it?

Because I felt the urge of communicating to everyone what I was
experiencing as a rider. In Italy you may start driving a bike at 16 but
I never got interested in it; instead I preferred many other passions as traveling, for instance, and backpacking, and shooting photographs. Then I discovered that a scooter could easily link all those occupations, and enhance them. I bought my Vespa less than four months ago, now it counts more than 7500 km!

What do you use your Vespa for?

Commute to work, mainly, as I work as an architect in an office twenty km from my hometown. In the weekends I ride for the pleasure of riding, and once every two weeks I ride to reach my girlfriend’s hometown, 120 km away from me.

This summer I enjoyed my vacation in Sardinia, obviously on my Vespa, and I’m reporting about it on my weblog.

How are scooters viewed by other drivers and riders?

I fear scooters aren’t seen at all by car drivers; this is clearly demonstrated when you suddenly smell flowers and you’re hit by a gentle fresh shower a moment before realizing that the car driver before you is cleaning his windshield and he neither looked at the mirror. Car drivers
too often calibrate their actions on cars and rarely think of riders.

Just go read my post titled Vespa vs. BMW 1-0. On the contrary, riders are obvoiusly more aware of their “colleagues” and are much more friendly. During my last trip to Sardinia I crossed a lot of riders (bikers and scooterists) who greeted me with the usual gesture. I like that. There is, though, a small group of, well, let’s say “funny guys”, who dislike scooters, expecially if they’re modern automatic ones, and think you’re not a real man if you don’t ride a Rat Bike. Go on, brave men, teach us everythin’! As for me, I just don’t like big bulky scooters but it’s just a matter of taste and I won’t discriminate their owners just because I don’t like their vehicle; I just try to pay attention to everyone and be polite, that’s all and it makes you feel ok.

What about photography, then?

I’m the son of an amateur photographer but I discovered it late. My girlfriend is the true photographer between us, as she’s been shooting since she was a young girl.

I shoot digital with a Nikon Coolpix 5700, a prosumer compact camera I bought after having read an interview to Alex Majoli (he actually shoots with Olympus gear) and I’m way too happy with it. Then I shoot film with a 1959 Zorki 4 rangefinder, a Yashica FX-3 SLR and a YashicaMat medium format TLR.

I shoot only b/w on my film cameras, and I generally prefer shooting b/w but sometimes I feel the need for color and I take the digital camera. I like Ilford film.

You can find my portfolio on flickr.

How do Vespa and Photography mix?

The first one is a means to experience the world around; when I started riding I immediately perceived strong differences between a scooter and the car: riding a scooter you get smells and perfumes, you hear every sound or noise and you feel air, moisture and rain. It’s an enhanced
experience, a natural psychedelic. Photography is quite the same, as through it you may cause feelings and reactions, helping people to perceive what you perceived when you shot the picture. It’s easy to join the two things, as the Vespa lets you reach interesting locations and your camera records images and feelings.

Even in a short commute as I go back home, in the evening, I often find it natural to stop for a couple of minutes to enjoy the light among pine trees, a sunset, a squirrel, the perfume of wet asphalt and maybe shoot a photograph.

I rarely ride with the explicit intent of shooting, it all comes pretty natural.

What photographic gear do you bring with you when you go out for a ride?

Not much, actually. Usually just one camera, a pocket sized tripod (it’s 20 cm tall, aluminium made and becomes a small tube when folded) and a spare roll of film if I took a film camera with me. Oh, and *the polarizer*, damnit, I forget it too often and I discover I need it when I cannot find it in my pocket. To be honest, I’m leaving for the weekend and I forgot it at home again!

Did your Vespa change the way you perceive the landscape around you?

Yes, a lot. Driving inside a car lets you only have what I call a “TV view” of the landscape; the windshield is a frame and if you turn your head you encounter the edges, so you’re unconsciously forced to look again straight ahead.

The Vespa lets you look around, and if you smell a good perfume you can explore to spot the source (well, trying not to crash!), or you can enjoy a line in a landscape following it for its entire length as it’s not broken by a frame. It’s way easier this way to spot a nice image and
a good subject for a picture. And it’s easier to stop anywhere, get off the saddle and shoot.

Do you have any suggestion for the Vespa riders and/or the
photographers?

To the Vespa riders I’d suggest not to be scared by the rain and wet weather, just wear the right gear. I’m gonna buy a good parka, and an over-trousers protection; for backpacks and generic luggage I use a McKinley backpack cover, and maybe when weather gets worse I’ll look for
a medium-sized windshield. Wear sunglasses in bright days, expecially at morning and at sunset, when the sun can blind you unexpectedly; oh, and take care of your chrome and exposed metallic parts, they can rust and become a mess more quickly than you could think.

To the photographers I’d suggest not to be fascinated by brands, by trends and icons; just be yourself and shoot for the joy of doin’ it. Your thousands-of-bucks newest Nikon/Canon/Leica/Whatever camera won’t heal your dirty eye, enhancing your pictures. Instead, washing your face in the morning, a cup o’coffee after a short ride and your trusted
aluminium-and-glass brick and some cheap good film will do.

To both I’d simply suggest to scoot on, enjoy the ride, and obviously share with us your joy through some nice pictures!

That’s all for now, let me know your impressions, and if you run a Vespa and photography weblog lemme know about it!

Alessandro Melillo
http://alexmelillo.altervista.org
——————

Steve Williams Interview

What’s your name and where do you live?

My name is Steve Williams and I live in the ridge and valley region of Central Pennsylvania. This part of the state is covered with small roads and trails wandering through field and forest and ideal for riding. I feel fortunate to find myself here.

What kind of Vespa are you currently riding?

For the past seven months I have been riding a 2006 Vespa GTS 250ie. That scooter replaced my previous 2006 LX150 that I unfortunately destroyed after incorrectly reassembling the driven pulley during a belt change. Between those two scooters I have traveled nearly 14000 miles.

Why did you start blogging about it?

I started blogging initially because I needed to determine what was involved in creating and maintaining content on a regular basis for a project at work. Since I had recently acquired the Vespa LX150 I thought it would be a good test topic. My wife Kim came up with the name Scooter in the Sticks and after only a few weeks of shooting pictures and writing I realized that my blog was a good fit for my creative interests and riding. Since then Scooter in the Sticks has sort of taken on a life of its own including being awarded the Best Motorcycle or Scooter Blog by Motorcycle Bloggers International. I continue to use the blog as a way to focus my riding, writing, and photography interests.

What do you use your Vespa for?

Initially I purchased the Vespa just to have something fun to do every now and then. It was so much fun that I began commuting to work everyday as well as take recreational rides on weekends. When cold weather hit I bought some better gear and continued to ride through the winter. I’m now a year round rider and find constant adventure through sun, rain, and snow. I ride the Vespa so much now that last year I put less than 1000 miles on my Ford Ranger truck. The Vespa is more than capable in meeting my transportation needs and can haul more things than I would have expected—like bags of sand, eight bags of groceries, or a seven foot tall Christmas tree!

How are scooters viewed by other drivers and riders?

On the road I have to say that here in Central Pennsylvania the other drivers and riders are generally courteous and careful. I think that is a fringe benefit of not having a lot of traffic to frustrate everyone. There are still instances were people do stupid things but that is the exception rather than the rule. I still pay careful attention and never assume the right of way. I try to remain calm and accept any craziness on the road as a part of the way things are.

The reaction to the Vespa by other riders is interesting, especially those who don’t know much about scooters. Riders are generally surprised at how fast the GTS can go. They think of it as a toy or at best something to run around town on errands. The idea that I would ride it 200 miles or more during a ride almost seems to unsettle them. I get some friendly jabs at times about riding that little scooter but those seem to die out when I continue riding into winter long after other riders have surrendered their’s to mother nature.

I think the biggest misconception I run into with the Vespa is that it is only capable of short trips at low speeds. The idea of it being a touring machine is almost inconceivable in a culture where bigger is believed to be better and personal discomfort and fear seem to demand power and size far beyond what is actually necessary to travel.

What about photography then?

I think, in part, much of the success of Scooter in the Sticks is related to the photographs I make. I try and push myself to create pictures that visually mirror the stories I write. I generally travel light in terms of camera equipment from a small Canon S50 Powershot tucked into my riding jacket to a tripod strapped to the seat and a Nikon D200 and Mamiya 7 stowed in my rear bag. Just depends on where I am going and how much time I think I might have. Any color work is done digitally and the Mamiya 7 is always loaded with black and white film that I still process and print in the darkroom I have at home. I’ve not fully developed a black and white project around riding and landscape but am slowly working in that direction. My previous and ongoing projects revolved around my wife Kim and the landscape I live in. They can be viewed here:

http://mysite.verizon.net/limonium7/index.html

How do the Vespa and photography mix?

A near perfect combination. For me my personal photography is a contemplative and meditative process. It requires me to be present and available to what is going on around me and requires practice and patience. The Vespa compliments that in a couple important ways. Riding requires attention if risk is to be managed effectively. That heightened awareness spills over into my ability to see not just the road but subject matter as well. The other thing I have found is that the Vespa’s nimble handling makes it so easy to stop to take a picture. I can maneuver the scooter so easily into places, U-turns, and generally do things that are cumbersome on a bigger machine. The Vespa is a perfect moving photo transport. For years I passed many great scenes in my car or truck because it was too big a pain to stop.

What photographic gear do you take with you when you go out for a ride?

On a serious photography trip I will take a Nikon D200 with a 4 GB card, a 20mm and 105mm macro lens, and a Mamiya 7 rangefinder camera with an 80mm lens. This does vary at times but generally this is what I have in the rear bag along with a half-dozen rolls of film. At times I will also strap a Tilt-All tripod across the seat. I try and keep the gear to a minimum so as not to make the photography too intrusive on the ride.

Did the Vespa change the way you perceive the landscape around you?

The Vespa didn’t so much change the way I perceive the landscape as it did make me available to see it. By this I mean I was out in the world more looking for pictures. When I was venturing out by car to make photos I just didn’t do it as much. Acquiring the Vespa has brought some unexpected gifts—greater awareness and more photography.

Do you have any suggestions for Vespa riders and/or photographers?

The first thing I tell people is to learn to ride well. I was a self-taught rider as a kid and when I returned to riding a few years ago I took the Motorcycle Safety Foundation Beginning Rider course even though I thought I knew how to ride. The truth was I didn’t and had a lot of bad habits and gaps in skill. Those are the things that can kill you on the road. I began what I consider a life long path of learning riding skills and strategies to manage risk. These have nothing to do with photography and everything to do with being able to ride safely. From that place I can make sound decisions to ride in rain, fog, snow, cold, heat and other situations that make be rich in photographic content. I try and gently suggest to new riders that there is a lot more to riding than being able to ride in a straight line and occasionally turn or stop.

My only suggestion to photographers is to shoot consistently. I firmly believe that through practice my photographic skill and results improve. If I try and think my way to good work I will never leave the living room.