Exploring life on a Vespa Scooter and Royal Enfield Himalayan motorcycle.
Embracing the Sunny DaysInto every life a little rain must fall. The same can be said of any relationship or marriage. It can’t always be sunshine and scooter rides. Two ambulance rides to the ER for my wife in one week along with some days in the hospital brings a reality to the phrase, “In sickness and in health.”
I’ve not posted anything since the end of November. Distraction is my claim. I’ve been adventuring. Just not in the usual manner.Continue Reading
What’s Ahead on the Road?A foggy ride to work this week and I’m wondering what’s ahead on the road just beyond what I can see. And I’m wondering the same thing about my life. My employer, Penn State, is offering an incentive for myself and over 1200 of my colleagues to retire. After a career spanning over 42 years it opens the door for a new adventure.
I guess.
Even though I ride my Vespa in fog and snow I’m not a person who takes risks. Retirement feels like a big one. And I don’t really know why other than it brings a dramatic change to a life built on routine and ritual.
Life on CampusI’ve been parking a Vespa on campus for over ten years. A lot longer for a cars. As I looked at the scooter parked outside my office I can’t help but wonder what all these years meant. Retirement means walking away and not coming back. Like saying goodbye to an old, familiar friend and knowing it will never be the same.
The financial calculations are complete. And I have some pretty serious plans for life after Penn State that will keep me busy with things I want to do. But I hesitate.
I’ll be going for a long ride in the morning to think about the offer and make a decision. I have six days to sign a letter of intent if I want to take advantage of the incentive offer. Or keep working and retire down the road. If I decide to sign the paper there’s no turning back. At the end of June 2017 I would be a full-time Vespa rider.
Retirement. That would be a new adventure.
For anyone who rides a scooter or motorcycle there’s probably nothing here you don’t already know. So turn off the computer, get up, and go for a ride. But if you’re new to the riding life, or in that luscious world of dreams and fantasy filled with two-wheeled lies and adventure, then maybe you might want to read on.
Oh, baby, baby, it’s a wild worldTucked and harnessed safely in an automobile, or warm and cozy at home on the couch with the television on, the world is absolutely under control, predictable and at my back and call. I am master of my universe.
And it’s all a lie. Slowly the rules creep in, those quiet expectations of shiny floors, freshly painted walls, lush green lawns and polite behavior. And one morning, quiet without a care in the world, you’ll realize you’re enslaved to things you never agreed to.
There are no absolutes in life save death. And this scene may blessedly never visit upon you. For me, as I learned to wake up and pay attention, things didn’t always make sense. The pressure to stay asleep is strong and I need help. A spouse light years ahead of me on this path is a gift. The camera helps me pay attention. A pen and journal demands thought. Writing on Scooter in the Sticks allows me to abandon silence and to give testimony that there are other paths.
Options. Choices.
What does this have to do with riding a Vespa?
Last weekend I was on the road to nowhere, standing along Interstate 99 wondering where I was going and feeling a bit anxious at the uncertainty. And then, alone for a moment with no rules or expectations I realized what a servant I am to the machinations of the world. What does this have to do with riding a Vespa? It provides a platform to escape, if only for a moment, and question everything you believe to be true.
At least for me. It’s the gift that matters when I think about riding — scooter or motorcycle. Fun, recreation, relaxation, friendship, adventure — they’re just minor side effects of a bigger experience.
I won’t forget this day.
How fast does that Vespa scooter go?Seventy-five miles per hour. All day long if necessary. Fast enough for anywhere in America.
South on Interstate 99. I knew that much. My brain was scrambling for order. Go home. Ride to Virginia. Visit the in-laws in Altoona. The cacophony of ideas in my head was breathtaking. I stopped so I wouldn’t hurt myself from inattention to the road and not any desire to photograph the scooter along the freeway. It took five minutes of cerebral discord before I felt comfortable riding on.
This never happens in the car. I’m certain the military-industrial complex under direction of the Trilateral Commission has probably impregnated the cabins with chemicals to suppress thought and ensure a compliant world.
There is no such effect riding a scooter or motorcycle.
Memorial Day in Tyrone, PennsylvaniaHunger brought me to Tyrone as I left home without breakfast. The local fire company was raising the red, white and blue in preparation of a parade. After a momentary pause I left town and the gathering crowd for something more quiet.
Unless you’re a daily commuter or use your scooter or motorcycle for chores, when you get on you will only take with you the demands you place on yourself. Riding offers choices.Spo
Spot of ShadeBy 10am it was already hot and found me searching for shade more than destination. Any earlier anxiety regarding the ride was gone now as I fell in step with the rhythm of exploration, choosing the roads and paths that remain invisible from the task oriented automobile.
“I wonder where that goes?” my motto for the day, I believe I could ride forever.
Little Juniata RiverI’ve always wanted to walk across this bridge and think about it every time I ride by. That thought never happened once in the car. All I think about passing through here is getting home. Point A to point B.
Maybe if I had a Ferrari it would be different. My friend Paul has a Ferrari. He seldom takes it out on the road so my guess is it would make no difference.
Main LineParked at a private crossing of the main railroad line between Philadelphia and Pittsburgh and points west. It’s down to two tracks now, a sad testament to short-sighted vision of leaders in this country. I waited for awhile in hopes that a train would pass, thought of putting a penny on the track one last time, but after fifteen minutes the heat pushed me on my way.
Riding a Vespa has revealed an endless opportunity for experience — ones more in line with magical discoveries from childhood than those available to “adults”.
Have you ever put a penny on a railroad track?
Country roads take me homeThere’s a spider network of country roads in central Pennsylvania that meander under the trees and along creeks that makes riding almost a guilty pleasure. It surprises me though how few motorcycles I ever see on these secondary to secondary roads. Could it be that riders prefer traveling at 55mph and above over the arcadian pleasures on these little roads?
While writing this post (at the Pump Station) a large cadre of motorcycles roared by. They had either been on PA 45 or US322, both a bore in my opinion for riding a motorcycle. But you can go fast. I suppose that counts for something.
The road goes on foreverI know it doesn’t go forever but what a fantasy. I have my fingers crossed for a lot more time wandering the world on two-wheels. The accumulated memories will fuel the days when the scooter no longer leaves the garage. Riding a Vespa scooter has taught me a lot about myself and life. But perhaps the most important lesson it it’s ability to generate meaningful memories. And with no need to engage a transcontinental trip to do it.
I’ll admit to a level of advantage due to location…
What’s a ride without a little gravelSeems I’m never far from the unpaved road. I remember the first time I rode my Vespa LX150 in gravel — not the most comforting feeling, especially in the loose stuff. Over time, with experience, both comfort level and velocity increased. With so many unpaved roads in Pennsylvania it just seems a shame not to take advantage of their secrets.
Brunch with a Vespa scooterHunger finally got the best of me and I stopped to eat the sandwich I’d picked up earlier in the day. Nothing like eating in the shade of hemlocks to the rippling sounds of a creek. As I write this I continue to wonder at the hundreds of thousands of miles I’ve clocked in an automobile and have no memory of ever doing this.
Have I wasted my life in the cage?
Experienced riders know the answer. If you’re new or dreaming, you’ll have to work out the answer yourself. No one can answer for you.
It’s all part of the ride — questioning, experience, memories and more.
Don’t wait.
Play With Us DaddyExcept for the dogs nothing was going to stand between me and a ride on the Vespa. Each day begins with a moment of revelation as I push the blind aside to see what the world is offering. Some mornings find a faint, hot glow from the sun yet to breech the horizon. This morning it was a blanket of white, dragging me into a cold place where body and spirit contested with a strong, serious desire to ride.
Like helpless children, the dogs need me for food, water and a serious amount of action. I can pace across the garden in myriad pathways collecting steps on my iPhone that easily consume a mile or more as I throw tennis balls for the dogs, wearing them out, draining the energy gathered through the night.
I swear they know my plans to leave them behind, looking at me with imploring eyes, “Play with us daddy”. Watching the the sky and thinking about a ride on the Vespa I could hear the rider in me chanting, “Let it snow…”.
Snow on the RoadIn minutes, my riding world moved from wet with incidental snow to snow and the road is getting slippery. For a moment as I stood along the road trying to keep the camera dry and considering the road surface I started to grumble about winter.
I have had enough.
The evaluation of weather and road was inconclusive but without any striking warning signs. So on I went.
Snow Covered Rural LandscapeRiding has its own rewards with a chance to witness the world just being one. The snow covered landscape presents a world of quiet solitude that I find energizing. When I see scenes like this I wish I could paint because a photograph just doesn’t adequately reflect the magic of a place — the energy and thrill of being alive — wind and cold and snow striking skin, firing neurons and bringing the brain into communion with the world.
I knew I would enjoy the ride. Let it snow.
Vespa in a Winter WonderlandThere are times when I look at the scooter along the road and I feel as if I’m in a fantasy — a sudden beautiful moment that I can only describe as a gift. It’s an experience born of moving slowly, stillness, and generally an incompatible experience from what I read in motorcycle magazines where speed and breathtaking performance are the focus.
But how many horsepower do I really need to ride?
A View of Mount NittanyThe weather moved quickly through the valley and after an hour or so the roads and paths were wet with the temperature hovering in the mid-30s. The biggest challenge was keeping the visor clear of fog. At some point during a ride the “adult” in me steps up to spoil the fun and guides the Vespa toward errands and chores. I’ve not yet found a reliable way to ditch that guy.
He does have his advantages including always having enough cash for a stop at a cafe on a cold morning for tea and a biscuit. And with one last, long look toward Mount Nittany I started toward home, satisfied with a small ride on a snowy morning. Thirty miles of road time can be some fine medicine.
Is this the last snowy ride of the season?
Embracing the SensesMany neurologists believe there are 21 senses, not just the five we learn in school – touch, taste, vision, hearing and smell. Riding a scooter or motorcycle embraces the five and I expect a great many on the longer list. On a beautiful summer day riding along US Route 6 fires the nerves and ignites the brain. Riding is the spice of life, the additive to a day that makes life a feast.
SpicelessThoughts of spices for many raise ideas of food and culinary adventure. In the kitchen this evening I thought about the spice that has the most influence on my life and a way to reduce it to a photograph. I come up empty with spices unless, perhaps, I should have filled the red spoon with salt.
Instead I moved past food and on to the Vespa. Riding is the spice of life. In this life at least.
Motorcycle or ScooterMakes little difference what you ride — any machine adds spice to existence. Looking through my photos I came across this one of a BMW F800 GS motorcycle made during a ride some years ago. I still remember the route through the forested hills south of home and the open stretches of highway to the west — that motorcycle spiriting me away physically and emotionally in an experience that lives today.
That’s spice. That’s what riding is about for me.
A few days ago I read something about arriving at the end of life and not regretting that I didn’t go to one more meeting at work. I understand what that means. At the last breath I imagine I’ll be thinking of spices — one last embrace of my wife, a smile from my kids, a look from the dogs.
And one more ride.