Not every ride delivers happy satisfaction. That’s not to say the ride is not good, but not always something I would describe as fun. Right now it is in the mid forties, raining, and dark. I have to leave for work in a few minutes and I can honestly say I don’t think the ride will be fun. But I am looking forward to it.

This past weekend I did an early morning ride on Sunday and it was not a ride I would categorize as fun. The temperature was in the high 20’s when I left and a heavy frost covered the ground. I wasn’t cold but aware that the temperature was something to manage. I paused for a long minute at the end of the driveway wondering where I was going and finally turned down the hill with absolutely no destination in mind. It wasn’t until about 50 miles later that I had a destination in mind —- home.

The ride was compelling though not fun. I found myself looking carefully at the landscape, the road, and just absorbing it. I didn’t know where I was going, not that I was lost in the sense of not knowing where I was but lost in the sense that the ride was without expectation. It was movement and experience. Everything seemed to fall away except for that. I stopped often to look around at rocks and plants and just smell the fall air. Color and light was center stage and I was there to witness it. And it was cold. I stopped near a lake to eat a sandwich and the wind was so harsh that I ate with my riding gloves on and wishing for a hat.

I returned home 76 miles after leaving the driveway. It was a good ride and was good to be lost and without a plan. And it was good to recognize that I don’t have to come home thinking “Wow, that was fun!”.

Time to pull on the gear, ride to work and get wet. My dog doesn’t even want to be outside.

It never seems to end – more power, bigger, more expensive, faster, shinier, more devices, more features, more, more, and more. And it’s not just with motorcycles (and scooters). It’s cars, it’s trucks, “I need four-wheel drive and power to pass…” Homes, TVs, stereos, cameras, our entire culture. Growth. Big. Grow or die. I don’t want to spend any time on the economics, culture, or politics of consumption now but I did see a picture on Ben Armstrong’s Honky-Tonk Dragon blog that had a picture of John Wayne and a Vespa. Doesn’t get much more macho than that. Maybe Steve McQueen, Clint Eastwood….

I posted this mostly out of an ongoing curiosity as to why so many men have such a problem with a Vespa. I have met many who seem actively annoyed by its very existence. They seemed threatened at a deep level as if to look too long at one might irreparably harm them. The Vespa is small. It doesn’t have a lot of power. Or chrome. And it is quiet. Sitting on it doesn’t make you bigger, stronger or more powerful. Riding it can make you at times an object or derision or the butt of jokes. You better feel confident in yourself before starting one up. No compensation available astride a Vespa LX150.

So I smiled when I saw the Duke on the Vespa. And wearing a beret. Damn. I don’t think men need more power, they need more guts.

I know in a couple months I’ll think 35° F is positively balmy. But tonight riding home from a meeting I felt cold. Granted that I did not have my ski mask on so the cold air cut into my neck in the gap between the helmet and jacket causing a strong ache at 50 MPH. Stopped at the grocery store for a few things and a welcome chance to let my flesh thaw. Tomorrow morning the weather forecast calls for 30° so I will definitely cover my tender neck meat as Napoleon Dynamite refers to it.

The ride to work this morning was fantastic. Windy, cold, leaves blowing everywhere under an ominous grey sky. Halloween weather. I expected a witch to fly overhead. Or something out of the Exorcist to happen. I love this weather.

Not much else to report and I want to go sit with Kim and eat popcorn. The new tire is worn in and performs like a champ. The Vespa seems ready for winter. And I have all the motorcycle spaces to myself at work.

I washed the scooter yesterday in part because it was dirty, but mostly because I was taking it into the shop for its annual Pennsylvania Safety Inspection and to have a new rear tire put on. I felt embarrassed at how dirty the thing had gotten from the past month of riding in rain, mud and dirt. The Excalibur Gray Vespa paint really does a good job hiding the dirt but when you get up close or look underneath at the engine……

Here is a shot of the underneath of engine that I posted on the Modern Vespa forum to indicate where the oil drain plug is. That dirty thing to the right is a week old oil filter.

So I hosed it down and washed it up and cleaned most of the underside, at least as much as I could stand before getting bored. All of this is leading to a question of those of you who read and ride. Am I nuts not washing and shining this scooter more often? I definitely have a long history of slim attendance to cleaning. Don’t get me wrong, I do attend to maintenance and mechanical issues, but keeping something shining bright and new just bores the hell out of me. I would rather be riding.

All of this applies equally to my cameras, home, garage, garden, computer hard drive, basement, toolbox and dog. With the Vespa I’ve really tried to be different but if I wash it once a month that’s a lot. I wash my truck maybe three times a year. The last time a friend who borrowed it washed it because it was too dirty for him. It is a truck. It was made to haul wet concrete right?

Anyways, back to the Vespa. I know lots of riders of motorcycles treat their machines with extreme care and patience. My eyes glaze over as they describe some new cleaning product that does a fantastic job but be careful you don’t let it linger too long on this or that. I’ve never seen them with their bike when it didn’t look like it came right off the showroom floor. Not a single scratch from riding down a too narrow path in the woods. No mud spray from the last rain. Just shiny. It’s like those people I see in the neighborhood who are always dressed up. Never once do they appear dirty or unkempt. They have lawn services….

So, advise me readers. What am I missing here? Am I sending my scooter to an early death by not keeping it sparkling? Isn’t it enough to spray the salt off in the winter? Or am I just a lazy man and don’t realize it….

Yesterday morning’s commute to work took place in a damp, cool fog. Awareness heightens when the riding environment presses more strongly – rain, cold, darkness, fog, wind, or even traffic. That awareness is as if a light has been turned on in a dark room. It’s quietly exciting and it’s something I have always been drawn towards. When I stop to make photographs I am often searching for evidence of that change in awareness and try to capture the elements responsible for the change. The shift in awareness is consistent while riding. I’ve also encountered in sailing in the ocean in foul weather or backpacking in the winter. It occurs on walks with my wife on cool nights in our neighborhood while looking at the stars. But with riding it always happens and since I ride almost everyday I get to see the world a little differently with great frequency.

I stumbled across a passage in a book I am reading, “Angle of Repose” by Wallace Stegner, that clearly describes the physical, spiritual and emotional response that I experience and I thought I should share it with you.

“…walks along the shore amid tempests of wind and rain, with a fire and a cup of tea and the sure affections of a sheltered house afterward. Exposure followed by sanctuary was somehow part of Grandmother’s emotional need, and it turned out to be the pattern of her life.”

Reading that passage things came together for me in one of those moments of clarity. A pattern has existed in my life. I push myself through exposure to the elements, through physical challenges but there is always a promise of sanctuary at the end of the road. A cup of tea at a cafe, a warm house, a cozy sleeping bag, a dry cabin on a boat. I ride for the shift in awareness, I knew that, but now I know that there is an additional element that is essential to me – the sanctuary of shelter, friends and family.