Scooter in the Sticks

Exploring life on a Vespa Scooter and Royal Enfield Himalayan motorcycle.

Transition: Vespa to Triumph

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5:30 AM. Dark and raining. My destination 58 miles away. An appropriate start for the transition from my Vespa GTS 250ie to a 2008 Triumph America. I agreed to shuttle the Triumph back to town for a friend of my father-in-law for maintenance at our local Triumph dealer. I’ll have the Triumph for a week and the chance for an extended demo ride was too much to pass up.  A temporary assignment to a Triumph.

Riding in the Dark

For me, the combination of darkness and rain is a weather challenge only exceeded by snow. Empty rural roads and slow speeds would dominate the trip until dawn. And I was hoping the rain kept the deer on the ground until the weather cleared a bit. Riding through the countryside and watching the road ahead lit solely by my headlight I was reminded of how small the area of illumination is and slow I have to ride to be able to stop within the area I can see. Even if I wanted to go faster there really was no way to manage it safely.

I sat a while at an on ramp of Interstate 99 gauging traffic for one leg of my trip. An endless series of tractor-trailers roaring along in a cloud of spray made the decision not to venture onto the freeway simple.
The sky showed the first signs of light in Tyrone and the rain was nothing more than mist. I stopped to dry my visor and make sure my digital camera wasn’t getting too wet in my pocket.
Nearing Altoona I stopped to watch the fog move along the mountainside. Apart from a heavy surf breaking on a rocky shore I can think of few things whose appearance brings me such quiet pleasure.

The Triumph America

My first thought on seeing the motorcycle in my father-in-law’s garage was that all that chrome was going to get dirty. And indeed it did. The switch from the Vespa to something the size of the America demands some changes in thought and approach. The additional weight is managed differently. The feet forward cruiser pegs and added tasks of shifting and foot braking are not on the regular riding menu. For the first few miles I reprogrammed myself with a bit of conscious practice and the old muscle memories returned from a long vacation.
More empty roads gave me the chance to practice some hard braking, swerving and other actions specific to the weight of the Triumph. The bike performed nicely and it became quite comfortable to handle.
By the time I got home I felt relaxed on the America. It’s two-cylinder engine thumped along like a champ and I could see how someone might enjoy one. It’s not for me though.

The Triumph is too big, too powerful, and too clumsy for the eclectic riding I do. There would be no quick u-turns or pushing through deep gravel and grass for a picture. It’s size and weight just takes too long to manage. Even the few times I stopped for pictures I watched that kickstand carefully to see if it would support the weight on the surfaces I was on. And I passed up many picture locations I just didn’t think I could get the bike to safely or easily like I could with the Vespa. Still, it is a nice motorcycle.

If I had any complaints at all it was with the loud exhaust. Aftermarket pipes made the America nothing short of obnoxious to my ears. When I left Altoona I had my earplugs in when I started it up and while had quite a rumble it wasn’t until I got home and started it for Kim without the plugs that I realized how really loud it was. On a long trip I can’t imagine having to listen to it thundering in my brain. I suspect returning the factory pipes would fix that problem. Still, it is a nice motorcycle.

I’ll probably get the motorcycle back from the Triumph dealer on Tuesday and be able to ride it the rest of the week before going back to Altoona to retrieve my Vespa. We’ll see how things go until then…

Squirrels and Riders

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We’re the same at some level. Perhaps it’s the common DNA we share. Standing in the garden this morning while the dog patrolled the premises the 59-degree air triggered a reaction not dissimilar from those going through the heads of the squirrels racing overhead in the spruce trees. Or so I imagine.

Cold air means winter is coming. Time to prepare. I don’t gather acorns but do think about NikWax for my riding clothes to hold the foul weather from my tender boyish flesh. Locate electric gloves, wonder about the condition of the Vespa’s battery. That sort of thing. Winter riding sorts of things.

The ride to work on Monday morning beneath heavy, gray clouds reminded me of fall. And winter. A feeling in my gut manufactured by ancient genetic coding that once kept my ancestors alive. And I suppose it’s still working that way.

What troubles isn’t that I might be like a squirrel. What really bothers me is where did the summer go?

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.

A Good Deed

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Walking to my scooter after work I saw Mike, a fellow Vespa rider, busily trying to kickstart his LX150. With earplugs in and helmet on I couldn’t really hear anything when he demonstrated the sound the engine was making when he pushed the starter button. After taking them off it only took a second to determine he had a near dead battery.

I suggested jumping the scooter battery from a car. After a moment to convince him that the 12 volt system in the Vespa would be just fine with the car battery we got out the jumper cables and using the same technique one would use with a car brought the scooter to life.

In the winter if you aren’t riding regularly a dead battery is common. It takes more than an occasional start of the engine and a few minutes of idling to keep the battery fully charged. A Battery Tender is in order if you aren’t going to be out on the road at least weekly. At idle I think the Vespa headlight and tail light take more juice than the machine generates and won’t help much to keep the battery fully charged.

The ride home tonight was sort of gloomy. Gray skies and mist in the air. I stopped for a gallon of milk at Meyers Dairy and got home just as the mist turned into a sprinkle of rain. I just can’t wait for sun and warm air…

Riding Through the Spring Thaw

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A day off work demanded a ride. Heavy rain from the previous night along with snow melt caused flooding throughout the valley. Had that moisture arrived tonight with sub-freezing temperatures we would be looking at 30 inches of snow.

I chose small mountain roads to explore and celebrate the thaw, the approach of spring, and warmer riding weather. Even with earplugs and helmet I could still hear the water roaring down the mountain.

The roads were wet and covered with gravel in places but it didn’t matter. I was happy to putt along and see the sights. No interest in carving curves and all that stuff.

I’ve convinced myself that winter is finished but in the back of my head I know that there have been winters that dropped three feet of snow in mid-March. Present in the picture above is another sign of spring — as I tromped through the brush to shoot it I was thinking about ticks and Lyme Disease — something that one doesn’t worry about in a real winter. Give me a rattlesnake any day.

Riding across the valley was a challenge because of the strong wind. I thought it would knock the scooter down before I could run out into the field to make the picture. The Vespa stayed upright despite shaking on its center stand.

The wind, cold, and dampness did drive me on — right into the Pump Station Cafe for hot tea and some grub. Any good ride ends this way for me. Sometimes it ends more than once.