Scooter in the Sticks

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

All Fog, All the Time

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It was suggested in a recent post on 2StrokeBuzz that it must always be foggy here in Pennsylvania since so many of my pictures are made in that magical atmosphere. Kim made the above picture through the window of our VW Jetta as we traveled to Altoona yesterday. We had just come out of some fog and there was more ahead. The weather has been strange this summer and perhaps responsible for the increase in fog. It is definitely is responsible for the emergence of Late Blight in tomatoes hitting tomato growers in Pennsylvania — the same blight responsible for the Irish Potato Famine of the 19th century. But I digress….

I love how the world looks in the fog. I feel the tug of photographic attraction when I wake to a fog-shrouded world (not talking intoxicants here). As a rider, I make a more considered response before venturing forth on the highway in fog. I made the above picture last weekend while riding the Piaggio MP3-250. The fog varied between what you see in the picture and slightly more dense. Moisture build-up on my visor didn’t help. The decision to ride was based on knowing that traffic would be light and people driving at reasonable speeds. So I decided I could manage the risks.

My friend Paul snapped a shot of me making the previous picture. Not all roads have such bright lines and generous berms. They help tremendously in fog to keep things safe. Or at least create a road landscape in which to operate safely.

For photography buffs reading I don’t often make my pictures while seated. I usually stop and look around for the good shot. But this one was a no brainer.

On another foggy morning a few weeks ago I made this portrait of the Kawasaki KLR 650 on a quiet, low traffic road. Since this is Happy Valley most people travel intelligently in these conditions. But I remain vigilant for out of town drivers…

Parting thoughts about riding in fog: Carefully judge the risk to be assumed. Gauge traffic, speed, road conditions, visibility, riding skills and experience, and apply all that to your own equation of how much risk you are willing to take on the road. There is always a possibility that things can go wrong on the road regardless of what you are driving or riding. It’s just that it can be worse on two wheels.

And I always caution people about how slow I am going generally because I am out looking for pictures. At the speeds I travel I usually have plenty of time to process what’s in front of me. And with eyes keenly aware of what’s behind me as well I feel comfortable in the fog…

Weather and the Calculated Risk

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At 5:15 PM when I left my office the Vespa was coated in a glistening sheen of ice. How I got there and what I would do next was a result of calculating risk. Standing by the scooter I could see traffic moving on wet, slushy roads. Heavy skies reduced light levels. With temperatures hovering near freezing and moisture in the air I knew visor fogging would be an issue. My brain was working, trying to calculate my next action.

Weather is predictable to a point. In warm weather unexpected changes in temperature or precipitation are challenges most often met with gear adjustments and minor changes in riding. Unexpected changes in cold weather involve more risk and can’t be overlooked.

I stood outside with the dog in the morning weighing the pros and cons of riding to work. The forecast called for two brief periods of snow or sleet followed by rain later in the evening. The road was dry and the skies looked heavy but no hint of moisture yet. I made the decision to ride to work knowing that it could get worse when it was time to go home. I had my usual backup plan ready — park the scooter in the parking garage and take the bus home.

By mid-afternoon what I thought would be a passing flurry or shower of sleet had developed into something more persistent. I kept an eye on the street outside my window and the progress of traffic. I was already calculating risk. When I walked outside at the end of the day it was decision time.

The accumulation of sleet and snow in the parking lot would be heavier than anyplace on the ride home. It was the safest place to test for traction and just a tiny bit of throttle pushed the rear wheel sideways. Head up, eyes forward, and gentle throttle would be the rule of the ride.

Two stops would slow me down, one for fuel, and a second for cash at the ATM. Walking back to the scooter with a pocket full of money I met a good Samaritan. A neighbor saw the scooter and me and thought I might need a ride home. My experience on the road for the past four years have brought many would be good Samaritans. It’s nice to know that help is available if needed. In this case I politely declined and thanked him for the offer.

By the time I pulled into the driveway it was almost dark, I was tired, and the sleet was still coming down. The ride home was not as bad as other unexpected winter rides but it did require constant attention and adjustment. And more than a few four-wheeled vehicles had to practice patience as I made my way down the road slower than they would like to go. Definitely below the posted maximum speed limit for ideal conditions. Not many people look at those signs that way.

For those of you who have not been caught on the road when snow or sleet appears the pictures look more daunting than the actual ride. I made a careful assessment of the road surface and knew there would be adequate traction, options for ways out of situations with other vehicles, and enough experience to negotiate other hazards on the way.

I suppose the lesson here is to look beyond the image of sleet and snow and really see what is there.

Rider as Romantic

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Yesterday I sat in the Terminal Cafe after a morning of riding and searching for the right Valentine’s Day gift for Kim. In my head I was writing a message for a card I picked out, how I would reveal the gift, and imagining the day. Looking at the couple across the street I imagined the two of us. Romantic.

The dictionary lists several definitions for romantic. There’s the obvious we associate with Valentine’s Day. But another describes, in part, the draw I find in riding.

ROMANTIC: Marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of the heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized.

That’s riding for me and many others. Yesterday morning the romantic was at work as I rode off to search for a rock to give to Kim. What I was after would not be in a store.

By the time I got to the cafe a coating of new snow covered the ground. Secondary roads, streets, and alleys in town were snow covered. The main roadways were mostly wet but a thin film of slush was building up in places. Had I started any later I probably wouldn’t have been able to find what I was looking for.

I should probably explain the rock. I’ve been looking for several weeks for the right one. I’m not sure how many other men and women would be content giving or receiving a rock. It won’t make many retailers smile or assist in an economic recovery. But Kim and I find satisfaction in the graceful elegance and beauty in rocks and stones. I’ve brought home 800 pound ones to ones the size of something that will fit under the seat of the Vespa.

Kim has designed a transformation of our property from perfect turf to woodland garden and rocks are an integral part of the landscape. I made this photograph of Kim during a walk last weekend. Exploring fields and forests fuels ideas that she introduces into our woodland garden.

Riding can reflect the same grace and elegance found in a stone. And it can trigger thoughts and feelings consistent with the second definition of romantic. This morning was an adventure. Gray skies and the thermometer hovered near the freezing mark when I left in the house and rode into the mountains.

I knew what I was looking for but uncertain where to find it. A small rock or stone transportable on the scooter with the right character and personality. Perhaps something with moss growing on it, a small fern, or a lichen. Sometimes you can find them along a creek.

Snow began to fall as I rode off onto an old fire road. My concentration in finding a stone was broken by concerns that the roads might become more hazardous if I remained too long. Part of my attention focused on rocks and part on the weather. Ten minutes of examining the floor of the woods and still nothing. Snow started to build up and it was apparent that I needed to go.

Snow is an indicator of risk and when it falls I monitor things constantly. My Motofizz bag was accumulating snow. The temperature indicator on the Vespa read 30 degrees. It was only a matter of time before the roads would be covered.

I planned to head straight home but could not pass a large rockfield for one last look. Climbing up the steep hill with patches of ice hidden under leaves and in crevasses I wondered what would happen if I took a bad fall with no one around. It was a few miles from here, up higher on the mountain that Kim fell and broke her leg and I had to carry her down to the car. A touch of the front pocket of my riding pants confirmed I had the cellphone. My emergency backup plan.

I found a rock.

Back at the scooter I knew two things. I had the rock I was searching for, and the road was completely snow covered will more falling faster now. It definitely was time to ride. Out of the mountains and into the valley the snow continued to fall but wasn’t accumulating much on the main road so I decided to ride into town for breakfast at the Terminal Cafe.

The road home was quiet, comfortable, and open for thought. The temperature was above freezing now and the snow was fading. All that was left was to write in a card what I had developed in my head during the morning. Red sealing wax on the envelop and an impression from a special, romantic wax seal would complete my ideas for the card. I had to stop for one last picture, to stand and look out over the landscape and let the morning replay in my head. The riding, the romantic.

I hope you find the romantic in life, in your relationships, and in riding.

Battery Tenders Enable Lazy Riders

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The past month many days the roads were a mess. Even for four-wheeled vehicles. No fear here though for the Vespa is fine in the garage connected to a Battery Tender, slowly slurping juice from the Allegheny Power grid. I’m relaxed.

Content.

There were days when the roads were mostly free of slippery stuff. Certainly in the range of routine riding in previous winters. The scooter is on the Battery Tender though. The battery will be fine if I wait for a better day to ride. It’s still cold outside, well below freezing, and I do have a Battery Tender…

I realize now how much of my winter riding was, in part, motivated by a desire to keep the battery charged. By not wanting to winterize the Vespa. I never liked the idea of taking it out of commission for months at a time. Now a Battery Tender has come into my riding life. Like indoor plumbing and hot showers. Once you have them you can’t easily go back. You get soft. Complacent. You start having wussy thoughts — GPS, chrome accessories, and worse.

I left this morning at 45 degrees Fahrenheit. Brrr, cold. Water on the road, My Vespa might get dirty. It’s windy. Now it’s 50 degrees and I think I should go home. The sun is out but I believe 50 degrees is chilly. I need to stop somewhere and get warm. Get my head on straight. Damn Battery Tender. I’ve turned into a riding wimp.

It turned me into a riding wimp.

I just sat with a cup of tea and jotted down some notes so I would not forget my wimpdomization. Make sure I recorded what was happening to me in case I needed to call a cab home. Crazy.

And then, on the way home, it happened. I sensed a shift. Any concerns about cold, weather, water, it all evaporated. I was a rider again. Maybe it wasn’t the Battery Tender. Maybe it was the weather, the desert of riding experiences of late all piling up in my head like it was my fault. Good old brain is always plotting.

I rode into town tonight. Temperature dropping near freezing but I had a few errands to conduct. And I was set on riding. That’s the way it should be. It’s good to be on the road again.

And the Battery Tender isn’t plugged in, just in case.

Cold Weather Riding Challenge

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Colin Doyle of Collegeville, Minnesota so far is the leader in 2strokebuzz’s Cold Weather Challenge. Doyle took a ride on his Honda Ruckus 50 at -10 degrees Fahrenheit. The video he submitted of the ride accurately depicts what it is like to be out on the snow. I think at those sub-zero temperatures there is more traction than at 30 degrees. At least that’s my experience of boots on snow in the cold.

When the challenge was first issued I thought I would give it a whirl but seeing -10F as the current mark to beat I sighed and knew that would be hard for me to beat. I can’t remember the last time the temperature around here was so low.

I’ve always admired the styling on the Ruckus and after seeing Doyle’s video a little light flickered in my head that said, “No there’s a fine second scooter…”. It would be especially good in the snow when you really want to get your feet down flat at times, a lighter machine, aggressive tires, and a never-say-die design that just keeps on going. And with snow on the road you don’t need a lot of power. Kim has talked about getting a scooter and has ridden the ET4 and LX150 but she doesn’t like how tall the seat is. The Ruckus would be great for her and as a backup commuter.

Take a look at 2strokebuzz’s Cold Weather Challenge. Even if you have no plans to head out in the cold it is interesting to read the rules and guidelines and see what other scooter riders are doing.

For now I’ll just watch for the thermometer to drop below -10F.