Perfect Saturday
Clear skies, open road, Vespa. The perfect Saturday morning. Almost. One element is missing — time. Looking down the road I see nothing but possibilities. A quick look at my to-do list and I grudgingly accept this ride will be short.
Regardless, even a short ride is good. Allows me to set the tone for the weekend in a relaxed manner. As long as I don’t resent not being able to follow the road over the horizon.
Perfect Carrier
The Vespa can handle a lot of cargo. Under the seat, hanging from the purse hook, in the topcase, on the front rack or strapped on the seat. If a rider is inclined you can do things most people would consider a little crazy.
At least it seems that way to me.
I’m a creature of habit. Summer time means watermelon. Lots of it. And breathing means bread. Preferably a crusty variety. And whatever I get I always gnaw on it before it arrives home.
That’s what a perfect Saturday ride looked like this time.