A brief follow-up to some of the safety discussions of earlier posts. Each of us come to a fork in the road where we are faced with a choice. In regard to safety I have absolutely no control over the road or the other drivers and riders I encounter. I know that I am left with a simple choice—to take personal action to protect myself and manage risk myself or to scream into the wind that others should look out for me and manage themselves appropriately.

The choice for me has been easy and its price low. The only requirement is that I keep making the choice for the entire journey.

Switching gears now to off-road riding on the Vespa LX150. A couple weeks ago I was riding on a country road that switched from smooth asphalt to dirt. I proceeded about one quarter mile before turning around not wanting to ride the 15 miles in dirt before hitting pavement again. I decided to experiment on gravel a bit and find the Vespa floats uncomfortably on loose gravel. I have Pirelli SL38 tires design for the street and that accounts for most of the issues. A more aggressive tread design would probably improve performance. I could manage 15 to 25 MPH on the Vespa without it feeling as if it would lay itself down—a far cry from the speeds I could manage as a kid on a dirt bike.

So I can’t recommend the Vespa as a dual-sport tourer….

Conventional wisdom in part of the two-wheeled community says that drivers of cars, trucks, and SUVs are irresponsible in their driving skills, habits, and temperament when it comes to concern for motorcycles and scooters. Rider risk has risen dramatically in the past few years and stories of near misses and irresponsible drivers abound. I’ve had my own close encounters and I confess they trigger primal mental responses and leave me wondering about the enemy. But therein lies the fallacy, that the four-wheeled vehicle and operator are the problem. Perhaps they are merely a symptom of something larger and more insidious.

Whether you drive or ride it takes only a few moments on the road to understand how much aggressive energy exists. An even closer look reveals a deep level of selfishness and self-centeredness in many riders and drivers alike that transcends the mode of transportation. It’s every woman or man for themselves. While riding I see people weaving through traffic at dangerous speeds to move up several spots in line at the next light and arrive at the parking lot a few minutes before those left behind. Drivers punching at their Blackberrys to read the morning email or talk on the cell phone just to catch up with a friend. Others are like zombies, tied tightly to the wheel of life bearing upon them. And riders are not immune to the selfishness. They race from light to light, hurl their sportbikes around curves and cars at startling speeds, raise noise levels to deafening places in anguished howls. All along the highway is bad energy and it plays out as heightened danger for everyone and riders in particular.

Our culture has us mesmerized with promises of happiness with the next purchase, promises of freedom with the next larger engine, of serenity around the next corner. And the more we chase the farther away we are and the more we spend and chase in a viscious cycle. We risk enslavement by those things that promised us more time, freedom and choice. Computers, cellphones, email, iPods, digital cameras—all packaged with a promise of a fuller life yet the result often seems to be a frenetic, isolated, unsatisfied state. On the road it translates into something ugly and dangerous.

It’s easy for me to point a finger at careless drivers while I’m riding and make no mistake there are some that are dangers to themselves, their families, and everyone else who crosses their paths. Cellphone users are the drunk drivers of the next decade. Who knows what must-have tools and features will appear in the next generation of vehicles for an “improved” driving experience only to deliver an even more disconnected and angry group of people.

I worry about all of this because the risk is palpable and ever present. Sad stories are everywhere. Lest you think that blame falls on drivers it’s obvious riders bear a burden themselves for being selfish and stupid. A quick look at www.ride2die.com is a stark reminder of riding danger. A more extended look reveals plenty of rider responsibility. It has many lessons to give for riders and drivers alike. Before visiting the site, be warned it is disturbing and graphic.

I’m always left asking what I can do myself. I toy with ideas of advocating public pillories for drivers who use cellphones while driving or riders who ride at excessive speeds or create excessive noise. Instead I’ll work to manage risks on the road. I registered for the MSF Experienced Rider course today, and I’ll turn off the cellphone while in the car. And it’s not about riders against drivers, it’s about all of us making more considerate choices. It won’t make a perfect world or perfect road, but I guess it’s a start.

We are in the middle of a week or more of rain. The sky is full of water and most of the motorcycles have found shelter. I seem to be the only one on the road and brings me to this post—-riding in the rain, or more to the point, the decision process that results in wet weather riding.

This past weekend my friend Paul and I planned to ride north to visit some motorcycle dealers so that he could investigate his next bike. We both know the forecast called for the possibility of rain but decided to wait until daybreak to make a decision about the ride. At 7AM I get the call as I am putting on my riding gear and getting ready to ride to the Waffle Shop to have breakfast before heading out of town. Paul is on the phone as is concerned that its already sprinkling and the day will be wet. He decides he doesn’t want to ride his Harley in the rain but still wants breakfast. Twenty minutes later he has his short stack and side of bacon and I am working through scrambled eggs.

My first rain riding observation came with the phone call. Paul and I had two polar opposite reactions. For him rain was a negative. For me it was a positive. I was excited at the prospect of rain. I have always enjoyed hiking, walking, driving, photographing, just watching the rain provided I am outfitted properly. It has continued with the Vespa but in a slightly different way. Riding in the rain is peaceful and quiet in the same way it is while hiking. But riding in the rain presents special challenges. They are a lot like those presented in the snow without the weight of the cold. Recognition of the road surface becomes more important as everything on the road becomes a film or paste waiting to have a little scooter tire slide through. Route decisions change as I consider speed and visibility. The mental effort increases to manage the riding risks. And I find myself hurrying to take up the challenge. Fair weather riding seems a bore at these moments.

Conventional riding wisdom is to not ride in the rain, snow, night, etc. It also says to wear a helmet. Each person makes there own decision. Personally, I would rather manage riding in the rain than riding without a helmet. Not sure how you manage that one….

After breakfast I rode a bit under 100 miles moving through the ridge and valley region of Pennsylvania into the Allegheny Plateau. The rain was variable from a steady drizzle to nothing more than threatening clouds. A fine morning. On the way home I passed the local Triumph Dealer, Kissell Motorsports, and saw the Triumph Factory Truck at the place with about a dozen or so new motorcycles waiting for riders. I have to confess that I have had my eye on the 900 Scrambler for no other reason that it looks cool. I don’t need it and certainly can’t afford it right now but gee, free ride, go ahead and torture myself. So I’m standing at the registration table ready to put my name on the list for the open Scrambler when it hits me—I like the Vespa and I don’t need any thing else. So like Galadriel turning down Frodo’s offer of the Ring, I pass up the Scrambler ride—I pass the test and remain content with the Vespa.

It was raining hard this morning when I got up. Felt the stir of anticipation at being able to ride to work in the rain. Took a slightly longer route, partially to avoid traffic but mostly to enjoy the fog and rain. I stayed dry save for two small leaks in the inner thigh area of the TourMaster Overpants. I think I might have left the flats open because that has not happened before. The photo was taken outside of town on one of the little rural roads that I can use to wander around town. Saw one other motorcycle on my ride, a Honda ST1300 I think. I have seen this guy before. Today he was riding with a full helmet, jeans and a sweatshirt. He had to be dripping wet. The other time I saw him was on a 40-degree morning wearing a T-shirt and jeans. He must be an animal…..

I’ve posting nothing since last weekend though I have ridden everyday. My rides have consisted of commutes to work, trips to the store or bank, and also a few rides that were simply effortless journeys with neither purpose or destination. A few mornings ago I had some free time to ride. I got up early with detailed plans in my head on where I would ride and what I wanted to see. It did not take long for me to realize that these plans were noisy in my head and I felt some resistance to the ride.

Resistance is not something I associate with riding. Mowing the lawn, washing dishes, paying bills I resist. Riding I don’t. I pulled over along the road for a few minutes just to make sense of what was going on and the answer was to just abandon my plans. And off I rode with absolutely nothing in mind. At each turn or intersection I sort of followed some unseen guidance rambling through streets and roads. I thought of the Family Circus cartoons that would show one of the boys wandering home from school on a long and circuitous route.

The ride took me to places I have seen many times and to other places I have not. I road slowly through an old cemetary looking at headstones and stopping to photograph an old shed/outhouse (a two seater). I realized that there are times I need to follow a flow that denies planning and decision.

The weather has been wonderful most of the week. Thursday saw a threat of rain when I left for work but did not begin until I was leaving for home. The roads were incredibly slick from the oil and water foaming across the pavement. I would drag my boots at intersections and was amazed at how little traction there was. Slow turns and careful riding made the trip uneventful. The sky opened up about two-miles from home to really drench everything but I remained dry and warm in my riding gear.

This morning the sun came out to give the landscape a glow only possible after a rain. I made the photograph at the top of the page in that light. With the weekend ahead I’m not sure where the scooter will end up. I do know I need to pay a trip to the dealer to look at another rear tire. Thirteen hundred miles and its all worn out…

Behold the thankful joy of a new Vespa owner! I asked my father-in-law Bob (right) and my friend Paul to pose for a picture with the scooters and Paul’s Harley Fatboy and this is what happened. I guess Bob was excited about his first extended ride. Poor Paul was caught off-guard as he tried to get something out of his eye. And the 2004 Vespa ET4 that Bob is now so happily riding most recently belonged to Paul.

Paul and I met at 7AM at a local convenience store to make the 60 mile ride to Altoona to deliver a new battery for the ET4. The morning was clear with temperatures hovering around 50 degrees when we left. Traffic was light as we left town and dwindled to almost non-existent as we got deeper into the rural roads that meandered through the valley towards Warriors Mark. The few cars that did see us probably thought the Vespa and Harley were an odd pair, sort of like the cartoon with the big bulldog and little yippy sidekick. I took the lead on my Vespa since I knew the roads a bit better than Paul but I couldn’t help wondering if he wished he could have traveled faster. He didn’t say and I didn’t ask.

We made a quick stop for bacon and eggs outside of Tyrone and then moved on to Altoona. We got the battery into the ET4 and it started right up. Bob put on his helmet and riding gear and were off on his first real ride outside the neighborhood. I took the lead with Bob behind me and Paul following in the rear. I figured I could set a pace that was conservative enough for our new rider and Paul could watch from behind. We moved through town on busy streets and then onto more open roads to the local Suzuki dealer so Paul could shop for something to replace the Vespa. From there we road east on US 22 to Holidaysburg and over the mountain to Altoona. Bob seemed comfortable and relaxed on the ride and the only thing I noticed was a tendency to forget to cancel his turn signals.

We decided to keep riding and go over the “Kettle” into Sinking Valley. I had forgotten how windy this road was and Bob later referred to it as a “driving test”. He also remarked how glad he was to have the face shield on the helmet having been hit twice with stones from passing cars. Forty-five miles from his house we stopped at a greenhouse so he could look at some plants. I had to get home so Paul and I kept riding north while Bob decided to wander back home.

I noticed how many fragrances were in the air—lilacs, pines, fresh cut grass, dead animals, etc…. I miss all of that in a car. Seeing the picture of her dad and listening to my description of the ride caused my wife Kim to say that she wants to get a scooter! I would love to be able to ride together. Now I have to get my daughters and mother-in-law on one too!

The day was just fantastic and everyone had a fun, safe ride.