Scooter in the Sticks

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

The Empty Road

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I wrote this upon arrival at Barnes and Noble.

An uneventful short ride brought me to Barnes and Noble. No excitement or interest as I told myself I have prowled these roads before. I’ve convinced myself they are empty and dead. Nothing left to see.

Sitting in the café I think of a blog post title: The Empty Road. It’s misleading. Conjures thoughts of open highways with nameless destinations. The cliché freedom of the road. Someday I hope to sample that place.

The empty road I’m thinking about is in my head. A road without interest or attraction that goes nowhere. Thrill and satisfaction drained away leaving behind a barely animated body on the seat of the Vespa. Other than that it’s a great ride.

I’ve thought a lot about riding risk related to physical conditions. Perhaps a few words about mental risk are in order. I’m pretty sure I pass drivers (and riders) who are preoccupied with something – work, money problems, problems at home, something. Or maybe they’re just tired, angry, or bored. Whatever the problem its hard to be focused on the road. And absolutely nothing has to be wrong to still be disconnected from the ride. It just happens.

Like now. I’d like to be home lying on the couch with Kim. Relaxing. Not doing a damn thing. Maybe I shouldn’t ride today. Just go home.

The Vespa is a reliable developer of enthusiasm. I wandered through town and country to arrive here and could feel the pulse of energy flash on and off. It never ignited the steady burn of intense reward. Maybe it’s the blustery 30° F temperature bothering me after 75° just a few days ago. Or the mental dismissal of familiar roads. Or maybe I just need to recognize it was a busy week and I just don’t want to do anything.

A cup of tea and a cookie hasn’t fixed me. An asiago cheese pretzel follows and the sun comes out. I see it shining on the Vespa in the parking lot. Snow is flying farther down the valley. I can feel the engine trying to turn over in my head. The tea has assumed room temperature and a flicker of desire is winning out over the desire to finish the pretzel. It’s time to go, just don’t know where.

End of notebook entry.

That’s where my head was when I closed the notebook at Barnes and Noble. I wasn’t sure where to go and sat for a while until I decided to ride home though not by a direct route. Past Rockview State Penitentiary and up Centre Hall Mountain. Stopped on the way up to look around in the woods.

At the top of the mountain I stopped to admire the view from where the Mount Nittany Inn used to sit. A fine restaurant that had the misfortune of burning down twice. It has sat like it is for several years now.

At the bottom of the mountain is George’s Frosty Cup – a local soft ice cream joint where I figured I could have one more snack before going home. The wind was blowing hard and jostling the scooter around until I entered town and the relative protection of the houses along the street. I hadn’t been this way since last summer and was surprised to see George’s transformed in Doans Bones Barbeque.

This required investigation and a sampling of their pulled pork sandwich server with homemade potato chips. I’ll be back again.

An interesting aside. A picture of this place appeared in the New York Times a few weeks ago as part of an article on photographer Henry Wessel. Mr. Wessel made his picture in the late 1960’s when the place was called Fye’s.

Rather than ride directly home I plotted another circuitous route home through some rural roads I had forgotten about. Dark clouds and flying snow had me choose a straight line home before I found myself riding with snow on the road or my hands numb enough to have to stop. One last picture of the landscape and then onto the main highway for a 60 MPH run home in a nice crosswind.

Kim was on the phone when I came in and I heard her tell whomever she was talking to that I had a big smile on my face. I guess the Vespa still works.

Riding in Wet Fog

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This past Monday morning presented a dense, wet fog for my ride to work. A few hundred yards down the road water was already dripping off my riding gear, helmet visor and the scooter. The limited visibility required careful attention to the road surface, other traffic, and whitetail deer that seem to appear out of nowhere.

I left for work before traffic got heavier and the other vehicles on the road traveled at lower than normal speeds in deference to the fog. If I had more time I would have ventured farther out to shoot pictures. Even the most ordinary places appear magical. I turned off into a park not far from where I live to look at the trees and wishing I had more time to prowl the landscape with my camera.

I swung around south of town to prolong the ride a bit before work. Familiar roads and places were transformed into brand new landscapes. Had I given in to photographic desire I would have been taking pictures until the sun finally burned off the fog but an 8AM meeting kept me moving.

I did pull off one last time to look down the road. I never seem to tire of the image of a road disappearing in the distance. It kindles my imagination of rides yet discovered.

Snow looms in the forecast for tomorrow. I swear it’s the same forecast that caused my questionable riding in snow a few weeks ago.

Acknowledgements

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I thought this picture of my friend Paul might represent the unaware beginnings of Scooter in the Sticks

Receiving congratulations for winning the 2007 Riders Choice Award for Best Motorcycle or Scooter blog reminded me that a lot of people played a role in this story.

I made my first three-sentence post giving birth to Scooter in the Sticks on October 2, 2005. What led to that post and what has happened since is a bit more complicated. A full year earlier I was in an art class taught by New Media artist Carlos Rosas on net art and publishing. It was there I began to seriously consider the Web as an alternative method of sharing work rather than the more traditional gallery exhibitions that are expensive and provide limited exposure. The Web promised a less expensive venue with a potentially larger audience.

During this same time period my long dormant desire (30 years) to ride again rekindled as I watched my friend Paul Ruby alternating rides between his Harley-Davidson Fatboy and Vespa ET4. Occasional discussions about motorcycles and riding with my wife Kim eventually led to serious consideration of a new Triumph Bonneville T100. Paul suggested I take his Vespa for the weekend before investing a lot of money in something I might not find as enjoyable as I remembered. Ten minutes on the scooter was enough to bring back all the memories of riding. It also erased any thought of a Triumph and placed me squarely on a Vespa.

The summer of 2005 offered time for riding, the Motorcycle Safety Foundation Beginning Rider course, and the rapid development of a riding sensibility as I put more and more miles on the scooter. The fine people who make up the Modern Vespa forum answered many early questions about gear, riding, and the Vespa LX150 I bought. Through the kind and thoughtful responses and the riding I was doing I slowly began to piece together the information and experience that would eventually appear on Scooter in the Sticks.

At work I was trying to estimate how much time it would take to produce meaningful content on a regular basis for use on a blog designed to share information about our organization. Having no experience in this area I decided to experiment a little by creating a blog and post short stories and pictures about riding a Vespa. Once I was familiar with the time and commitment necessary we could make some decisions about next steps.

As simple as blogging seems now I stumbled from the very beginning. Struggling with a title my wife Kim rescued me with Scooter in the Sticks. I liked it the moment she uttered it and the sound of it has continued to make me smile. Early posts weren’t intended for anyone. I was just generating content. Journal entries. During this period I looked at other blogs for ideas and techniques but it wasn’t until I saw a post on the Modern Vespa forum linking to a story done by WCCO TV in Minneapolis about a former Marine named Gary Charpentier who was riding his Baron scooter back and forth to work through the winter.

Man Scoots And Commutes 25 Miles

I was already riding in cold weather by this point but Gary’s adventures solidified my resolve to ride all winter as long as the roads were clear. With a little sleuthing I was able to track down his Baron in Winter blog and make first contact with someone who I feel has been a guide and mentor in riding and blogging. Gary’s approach to writing about his personal experience had a strong influence on my own work from that point on through to his new blog Rush Hour Rambling.


Contact with Gary opened other doors like being added to the Ride to Work commuter blog list where in turn I came into contact with master instructor, teacher, and rider Dan Bateman. I have probably learned more about riding, technique, and managing risk from Dan’s writing on Musings of an Intrepid Commuter than any other source.

Like Gary, he has been a continual source of information, expertise and support and has influenced what I write for Scooter in the Sticks.

As more connections developed more traffic and comments appeared. Somewhere I discovered the free StatCounter application that would allow me to track visitors and traffic and see just how people were finding me. As I checked out the sites visiting me I found Doug Klassen.

Now Doug probably doesn’t know he had a role to play with Scooter in the Sticks but his was perhaps the critical one that made the award possible. I found my way to Motorcycle Bloggers International via his blog Forty Years on Two Wheels.

In addition to finding MBI I was struck by something Doug wrote in his very first post that continues to resonate with me today—“ This combination of riding and photography, especially since I’ve slowed the bike down, has become a very satisfying part of my life…” It’s nice to find yourself reflected in the fine work of others.

As my view widened I saw a diverse approach to writing in the landscape of motorcycle and scooter blogs. I was able to solidify my focus that is decidedly personal at times and generally focused on the experience of riding. Winning the Riders Choice Star Award was the result of a winding journey that took me across the path of many people. Without them it wouldn’t have happened.

Photo by Paul Ruby. One of many pictures he has made of me that I haven’t posted…

There are so many other riders, bloggers, and visitors who have helped make Scooter in the Sticks a success that I can’t thank all of you. The links on my blog are just a few and all worth a look. Sites like 2StrokeBuzz and The ScooterScoop to CombatCommuter and Little Billy’s Scooter Tales. And many more. Know that I appreciate the time and comments you make here and the things you offer on your own sites if you have them. I’m not sure what the future holds for Scooter in the Sticks. Definitely a continuation of riding, writing, and photography. I am trying to develop a riding and photography project too. I would also like to take some longer trips to see what that’s like. I’ve toyed with the idea of producing videos but to be honest I can’t quite figure out how to make them unique or relevant here without me yakking away on the screen. Time will tell.

Again, thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts and comments. I look forward to hearing from you in the coming weeks and months.

Riding Chores

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On most Saturday mornings I am on the road early. Today I gave in to the bed and didn’t move until nearly 8 o’clock. When I finally rode away from the house it was after 10 and my mind was everywhere but on the road. Not a particularly good way to ride.

I abandoned any vague plans I might have to explore new territory and instead decided to stop at Barnes and Noble for tea and write my next blog entry. Not this one. And have a cookie. Not riding was a good decision and sitting by the window and watching the world roll by was nice. Some days I guess the road can do without me.

With warmer weather comes the beginning of the gardening season for me and I have a lot of work ahead. Late in the day I needed to run to Lowe’s to pick a few things up and I was ready for a little ride in the balmy 68° F air. While I’ll probably never be able to match the utilitarian application of the Vespa for transportation that you might see in Asia I try and use it as much as possible to do things other than recreational riding.

This trip was actually a small load – 50 pounds of potting soil and a 50 foot garden hose tied down to the seat while the more delicate items road in the under seat storage compartment. Things like hacksaw blades, foam earplugs, and a package of Burpee Giant Moon Flowers. I wanted to also bring home six wire tomato cages but they didn’t have any today.

On the way home a car pulled up next to me at a traffic light and the passengers were laughing and pointing at me. Kim said they probably were impressed but it didn’t feel that way at the time. I held a stoic gaze at the traffic light and pretended they were tourists.

The Vespa GTS didn’t blink with the 50 pounds strapped on behind me. I guess it would be like have a kid riding there. My bet is I could get four bags on the scooter. Three on the seat and one across the floorboards. Now that’s transportation.

Thoughts on Risk and Personal Responsibility

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My last post raised questions about the wisdom and folly of riding home in the snow. Adverse conditions pose technical challenges for a rider but I want to focus more closely on risk assessment and the personal responsibility I assume when I get onto the scooter.

Many assume riding is inherently dangerous and I won’t disagree. I’m never sure how to respond when someone tells me they would never ride a motorcycle because it is too dangerous. Even a brief look at Ride2Die.com is a sober reminder of how things can go terribly wrong. But what’s missing from these cautions is the consideration a rider brings to the ride. In this case my assessment of circumstances and the skills and expertise I bring to the decision making process. An accident or other dangerous encounter is not a certainty and the risk of one can be greatly mitigated by careful and deliberate choices. And this brings me to my choice to ride home in the snow.

When I began riding again less than two years ago I read a lot of motorcycle training books. I remember one warned against riding at night and in the rain. Ever. And it provided strong arguments in support of that position. Riding in the snow was at best a fool’s errand. So how have I arrived at a place where I ride in rain, at night, and in the snow?

I am not indifferent to the risks posed by these conditions and have considered them carefully while sitting in the comfort of my living room, while standing in the doorway making a decision about riding, and while on the back of the scooter. I ask myself if I am up to the ride technically, physically, and mentally. I run through the potential pitfalls. And finally I ask if I am ready to accept the consequences of my decisions.

I don’t want to talk about legal responsibility or the bad habits or missteps of other drivers. I can’t control whitetail deer or objects on the road. I can’t control potholes or gravel. They are part of the roadway landscape and I can either accept them or not ride. So I choose to focus on what I can do as a rider and find there is a wide range of actions at my disposal.

Back to the ride in the snow. Several ideas have been raised about my decision. One is that it was a bad decision. I agree, sort of. For me it was the wrong decision based on my general desire to not have to ride in snow. I don’t like riding in snow and had I known what was ahead I would not have ridden. I don’t accept the idea however that any riding in snow is crazy or ill fated. It all depends.

Another point raised was I should have known better than to get on the scooter and ridden off when snow was already falling. Guilty. In hindsight I should have ridden the bus.

The most interesting comments were when things got bad I should have parked the scooter and gotten home another way. The risk to life and limb being too great. I agree and this is the one I struggle with. I could have parked the scooter almost anywhere along the way home yet I didn’t. It’s not like it didn’t occur to me as an option. I considered the situation and determined I would be able to continue on. I was constantly testing the road surface, minding the traffic levels, mediating my speed to match the limits of the scooter in the snow and my own ability to manage slipping and sliding. I even factored a fall into the equation. Considering these things I determined the risk to be manageable.

I’ve been looking at Tom Brown’s Field Guide to Wilderness Survival where he identifies the mind as the most important tool to survival. And in order to keep the mind functioning smoothly one must have a positive attitude. I suggest the same applies to riding, especially in adverse conditions.

For riders who don’t have experience in foul weather this kind of ride may appear foolhardy. Others may consider I a personal challenge to master, a chance to test skill and mettle and stretch the limits of experience. While I don’t seek out these kinds of situations I know they will present themselves and coping with them have meaning and importance.

The bottom line – as long as I carefully consider what I am doing and make honest evaluations I am comfortable accepting the risk and outcome. I did this last year when I dropped my LX150 in the snow on the way to work, when I destroyed the LX150 while attempting to change the drive belt, and most recently making the ride home in the snow.

I’ll close with a recollection of sailing one morning out of Provincetown, Massachusetts north to Portland, Maine in high winds and a rough sea. As the weather worsened a sudden, strong gust of wind almost knocked the boat down while I was setting a reef in the mainsail. I remember a flash of disaster in my mind but immediately began an assessment of what to do next. My skill and experience was equal to the situation and my friends and I sailed on to our destination. While not an experience for every sailor it was not an unreasonable level of risk for me. And so it was for the Vespa and I in the recent snow.