I borrowed this title from a line in Jon Krakauer’s book “Into the Wild”, an account of a young man who literally walks away from his life. The story describes a rebellion against the pressures of modern life — a topic that permeates, to various degrees, many of the writings of motorcycle riders.

I am reminded over and over again the power riding has to pull the veil from the routine of living and the gap between life and living. Riding in cold weather tendsto strip away everything but the road, the scooter, and the actions I take. Life is simple and full of purpose making speed and lane position decisions, considering route and other vehicles, listening to the sound of the engine. It’s in these moments that I realize how light I can feel and how heavy life can become through the decisions I make in the name of comfort, style, and conformity, all things related to consuming more and more things. Riding reminds me of the fleeting nature of things and the power of experience and action.

I’m thinking about the credit card advertisement that lists the prices of several items and then ends with something like “walking with your daughter in the snow – priceless”. Maybe the other items in the list aren’t that important and more time should be spent in action rather than shopping, acquiring, owning.

I stopped along this gravel road on the way home to look at the light in the woods as the sun went down and I remembered a statement made by photographer Edward Weston many years ago when asked why he did not own a car. He suggested that a person must weight the cost of ownership in terms of what he must give up in freedom to own something. He was speaking of how buying and ownership affects the need to use time to earn money. Weston was careful to weigh this transaction carefully so that he could pursue his life rather than spend it paying for things.

Being happy and near the wild heart of life doesn’t come automatically. I think it has to be earned through careful and deliberate action. Riding safely requires careful and deliberate action and offers a practical method of experience that can move us closer to that wild heart of life.

The road in front of the house was completely snow covered when I got up. A check of the temperature showed 18° F. The wind was blowing at 20 – 25 MPH. I put my boots on and walked out across the driveway to check the road surface. Dry powder, no hidden ice, and pretty good traction. Decision time.

My plan was to not ride this winter in the snow but I have to admit there was a strong attraction to ride in this first snow of the season. I walked back into the house and asked what I should do. After a quick consideration of the road, the time (it was 7AM and traffic would still be light) and the strong desire to attempt the ride, I pulled on my Tourmaster Overpants.

The Vespa started easily and the traction on the snow-covered road was good for the first half mile. I stopped to make a picture (excuse the fuzziness, it was actually still pretty dark and I didn’t want to pull out the tripod) as the road turned from snow to a glaze of ice from all the traffic. Once I got on the main road it was chemically wet compliments of PENNDOT. I was grateful that there was almost no traffic as I slowly made my way to work. There were slippery spots here and there and stopping at one traffic light was a bit challenging and required my outriggers down to manage the slow stop/slide.

I arrived at work safely and aside from the carefully actions required of the ride the only other things of note was the difficultly with the visor fogging due to my heavier than normal breathing and how well the mittens worked to keep my hands warm. A little more snow should arrive this morning but the ride home should be clear. I wouldn’t want to do this in traffic.

When I left my office today it was getting dark, colder, and there were a few snowflakes on the seat of the Vespa. I prepared to ride home feeling flat and unmotivated to do much beyond hit the couch and read a book. As so often happens the moment the scooter roars (you have to help me with the appropriate verb) to life a smile eases into my face and the weight of the day and 35 years fade from my frame.

Out in traffic I was content to take my place on the road with my fellow travelers and enjoy the darkening day. I made a detour into the small village we call home to visit Kim at the salon where she was having her cut. I had taken all the money. I went in without removing my helmet, went into the back where she was under a dryer writing in her journal and proceeded to try and have a conversation. Her ability to hear was drowned out by the dryer and I’m sitting next to her with a helmet and earplugs. We sort of waved at each other apparently understanding. I could tell by the smile on Kim’s face that whatever was happening it must be good and I’m sure she recognized the smile on my face. I don’t know what it is about the scooter but making all sorts of little stops to see things and talk to people just seems natural.

From there to Agostenelli’s Market for some fresh bread. They have it fresh on Tuesdays and I just couldn’t pass it up.

It’s so good that I had to build a sandwich before even writing this entry. Not much gets between me and Scooter in the Sticks. So, the day was getting even brighter when I stopped in the town square to take a picture of the new Christmas decorations on one of the store.

From there a short trip home and happy relaxation. It’s a great evening.

IMPORTANT TECHNICAL NOTE: Notice my first vertical picture today! I am growing more open to new things as I get older.

How often have you thought about getting rid of the cage and living life solely on two-wheels? It’s a nice fantasy but I wonder if it isn’t something best left in the fantasy realm. It certainly would require commitment and patience. I’ve watched my annual mileage drop on my Ford Ranger to about 1000 miles per year from around 10,000 the year before acquiring the Vespa. If I absolutely had to I could survive with only the scooter relying on the bus for days too harsh or dangerous which is what I do now. Days I don’t feel comfortable on the Vespa are the same sort of days the Ranger doesn’t do well in either.

I got up this morning for a ride in the bright sunny 25° F morning. The wind was gone and the bright sun confused my brain into not thinking it was cold. This picture shows what a cageless world would look like for usually this place is lined with them.

From there out across the valley and smiling because the new mittens are keeping my hands toasty today at even lower temperatures than last weekend even with a stop to gaze at the sky.

A stop at one of the local car dealers just to scan the window stickers of the used cars was an eye opener. I tend to buy vehicles at ten-year intervals and don’t look much in between. Our VW Jetta is 11 years old now but with only 89,000 miles we’ll try and run it along for a few more years. Walking from one sticker to the next I choked at the prices for used, I mean pre-owned, vehicles. I didn’t even venture to the new ones.

We have two vehicles plus the Vespa. I don’t see us with zero cages but I can see scaling back to one. Since both are paid for and in good shape I’ll hold onto both and make a final decision when the time comes to replace something. I do have dreams of saving that extra cash. And even if I do need a second cage, maybe I can opt for the 500-dollar beater. There is something romantic about driving a beater car, especially in these days of perfect shiny cages.

Only a short ride into town today to run some errands and buy oil for the next oil change in the Vespa. It was windy and 33° F according to the display at the bank. New mittens were nice and warm and I had another uneventful ride. Since there isn’t much to report I thought I would get something out of my head that has been floating around for awhile related to noise.

For a long time, shortly after 2AM a loud and obnoxious motorcycle would roar up the hill to our house, turn onto another street, and roar up the street. Each night it would wake us up so that we could follow the path until it finally disappeared into the silence of the night. I describe this particular motorcycle as obnoxious because the noise level was loud enough to make a loose pane of glass in the front door vibrate and if I was outside when it happened to make an appearance in daylight hours I felt like holding my ears. (actually I felt like doing something else)

On a warm Saturday morning at 9AM when I am relaxing with a cup of tea in the garden I can anticipate doing this with the sound of several lawnmowers somewhere nearby, a leaf blower cleaning a driveway, a circular saw cutting a board for a deck, a shop-vac cleaning the inside of an SUV and any number of other typical sounds. The neighborhood is a noisy place. This background noise blends together as a symphonic representation of non-urban America.

Enter the motorcycle – or scooter. Many ride through town and the neighborhood barely noticeable. My Vespa is so quiet that often the dog lying at the door awaiting my return doesn’t hear me pull up. My friend Paul’s Harley Fatboy is quiet too since he has left the factory exhaust untouched. And I should add that not all scooters are quiet. The vintage two-stroke scooters can be loud and spewing clouds of smoke and often exaggerated because they congregate in a flock. But they are less than occasional occurrences at best and tolerated more easily like a passing fire truck or helicopter. It’s the large number or loud sport bikes and cruisers that comprise the problem population and where real change and improvement are possible.

There is a growing movement from the grass root level to the legislature to curb or ban loud exhausts or even motorcycles. I know the freedom and independence arguments but as noise levels increase there will be a growing outcry from the non-riding, property owning, and motorcycle averse voting population to have something done. Riding a scooter is about as innocuous as you can be without resorting to a bicycle or walking but a scooter isn’t for everyone. For all other motorcycles from dirt bikes to big V-twin cruisers it is technically easy to make those machines acceptably quiet. The more difficult challenge always resides between our ears.

I stumbled across a site today that had a lot of links to noise related issues and it’s worth some time to get up to speed on what’s going on in various places and consider where you are in the equation. Maybe we can do something individually before Uncle Sam steps in and does it for us. Maybe it’s just a matter of understanding, respect, and consideration for others. The kind of consideration we would all like to have on the road from other drivers. Maybe there’s a chance to set a fine example.

AMA Excessive Noise Position

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