Scooter in the Sticks

Exploring life on a Vespa Scooter and Royal Enfield Himalayan motorcycle.

Perfect Riding Season

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Vespa GTS scooter on a foggy, fall morningFog and Vespa

Fog, my favorite, along with dropping temperatures, all part of the the perfect riding season.  Yesterday morning a meandering ride to work offered a chance to see the world looking slightly different.  Unusual.  A feat considering how many hundreds of times I’ve ridden along the same path.  Still, I’m seeing things differently.

And feeling different.

Fall quickens my senses. It heightens desire and illuminates mortality as I recognize the passing of time marked by the movement of the season and the slow run up to the sleep of winter.  All of it, the chill in the air, the shift in light and the change in color work together to make this the perfect riding season.

For me.

The Vespa has been performing flawlessly almost as if it’s woken up and screaming for a more satisfying time on the road.  We’re a perfect match, the scooter and I, and I wonder how I ever thought a motorcycle could add anything to my experience of the world.

Many have tried…

Vespa GTS scooter in fall lightChanges in Light, Changes in Me

Riding home from work, even in bright sun, feels different.  My eyes sense the change in the angle of light, the sun’s position in the sky when I leave the parking lot.

I know autumn has arrived.

I act differently than I do in the warmer days of summer.  I want to ride — feel the desire in my bones.  Even if only the for the few miles of commuting.  I take detours.  Stop and take off my helmet to let the sun heat my face.  I’m like a man who’s journeyed through a desert and finds a pool of cool water.

That soaring of spirit and the illusion of freedom, if only for an instant —  that’s why I ride.

The scooter is waiting again.  It’s a new day of the perfect riding season.

Independence Day

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Steve Williams reflected in a traffic mirror on Calder AlleyIndependence Day 2016

There’s probably a near endless list of things that give meaning to Independence Day in the United States.  Flags fly and millions enjoy the national holiday commemorating the adoption of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776, by the Continental Congress declaring that the thirteen American colonies regarded themselves as a new nation, the United States of America, and no longer part of the British Empire.

No small feat and one worth remembering.  Amidst the fireworks for sale and the frenzy of cookouts and family gatherings it’s hard to imagine the topic of the Continental Congress comes up much.

On my way to Saint’s Cafe this morning I wondered what it all meant.

Vespa GTS scooter with armored personnel carrierVespa and the United States Army

Don’t let the perspective in the photo fool you — that armored personnel carrier is bigger and tougher than the scooter.  Speed may be the only advantage for the Vespa.

As the parade elements began to gather this morning I wasn’t sure if this vehicle was there for the parade or because of the parade.  With anxiety and fear gripping segments of the country in regard to terror it’s hard to know what’s part of a new system of security.  Or what it all has to do with the fourth of July.

Revolutionary War VeteranRevolutionary War Veteran

The markings on the tombstone are unreadable now but a Revolutionary War Veteran lays at rest in the Boalsburg Cemetery.  I like to think he had a clearer understanding of the meaning of July 4, 1776 and what freedom meant.

Are we celebrating a day or an idea?

Saint's CafeIdle Time at Saint’s Cafe

It’s easy for me to think of freedom as being able to do what I want.  Passing time doing nothing in a cafe. It’s a free country after all.  A notion responsible for a wide range of selfish behavior.  Or just a life led in seductive oblivion. A self-centered view of the world that American Revolutionary Thomas Paine suggested could be a problem:

Those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom must, like men, undergo the fatigue of supporting it.

The fatigue of supporting it.  I bet that means more than saying the pledge of allegiance or going to watch the fireworks.  And it’s about more than fighting wars and battles.  John Adams, the second President of the United States and a leader of the American Revolution hinted at a greater responsibility in preserving our liberty:

Liberty cannot be preserved without general knowledge among the people.

As I worked through the day I wondered about the charge for knowledge and how often it appears our elected and would be elected representatives operate knowing how little attention the electorate pays to the machinations of the system the provides our freedom.

Perhaps that’s what Abraham Lincoln, perhaps the best President to ever serve this country, thought about the dangers of the people not engaging the system we have:

America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves.

In celebration of Independence Day, I’ve started to read about this country I love.

Lost in a Vespa Ride

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Vespa GTS scooter on a winding wet road

Thrill of Departure

At the beginning of every Vespa ride an electric thrill travels through my body. It’s short and fleeting, but in that moment I have no cares or worries; I’m smiling and alive. It happens at the start of of adventures and is the same for a short errand. The feeling should not be confused with the joy of riding — something quite different and longer lasting. The thrill I speak of is a direct connection between the mind and soul.

Or so I like to think.

A heavy blanket of gray covered the valley this morning. White clouds of fog draped along the mountain ridges and the air was thick with rain that would not fall. The Vespa scooter and I moved slowly away from home and on into the unknown; a lack of meaning, direction or concern for the rain that might bring danger to a rider with new tires, the shiny, slippery factory coating still in place threatening a sizable loss of traction on wet roads.

On we went, riding, lost in a world of gray.

Vespa GTS scooter along small farm lane

Learning to let go

I used to make plans; routes, timetables, destinations and all the related trappings of someone who refuses to let life unfold at its own pace. Often now, the ride takes shape mile by mile, like scenes in a movie, leading me along it’s own unique story. Time and circumstance have brought this about. There can be no disappointment or failure when you have no goals or expectations.

Wandering along farm lanes and country roads frees the mind from the cat and mouse game with traffic and gives it a chance to rest.

Vespa GTS scooter along a rural road on a gray day

Love of the road

No matter how many times I’ve been down a road, I’m happy to embrace it one more time. It must be love.  I do look forward to new territory and the excitement of discovering what’s around the next bend.  But without taking some longer trips that’s becoming a more challenging goal.

And I’m beginning to wonder if goals are much use in my personal life.

Vespa GTS250 scooter on a farm lane

Seduced by the Vespa

There are a wide range of motorcycles and scooters I could be riding. But I drank the Vespa Kool-Aid.  It’s really hard for me to imagine something different in this photograph even though I can quickly name a half dozen motorcycles better suited for gravel road riding.  But the Vespa is a perfect dance partner.

The scooter is running great after the it’s recent service.  I still need to repaint the muffler and have to add some Super Glue to a slipping heated grip on the throttle.  The grip uses a friction fit but I recall the installation instructions indicating sometimes a drop or two of glue may be needed.

A drop or two of glue is needed.

And so is a Vespa ride.

 

Gratitude and Things Stuck Up Your Nose

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She said it would be a momentary discomfort…

array of medicationsA Pile of Gratitude

Other than the minutes I was actually having a heart attack these past few days are the worse I’ve felt in a long, long time. I knew something was different when the nursing staff donned masks and gloves to work on me — both at my family doctor’s office and at the hospital lab.

A nasal virgin, I wasn’t sure what to expect when I saw the long swabs in the technician’s hand.  “You may find your eyes tear a bit” she said, before pushing the first toward my brain.  First came the sense that it shouldn’t be there, then the acknowledgement that she reached the end followed by the simultaneous realization she was still pushing further as discomfort changed to a slight burn to a sharp pain.

“That wasn’t so bad.” she said as she readied the second.  I understood now why she wore a mask — so I wouldn’t recognize her in public.  A series of throat swabs were equally distressing.  The encounter reminded me of conversations with riders who ventured out in the winter not fully understanding what they were about to encounter.  I thought I was getting a blood test.

As much as I could the past few days, mentally straddling the real world and a netherworld, I’ve been thinking of the changes in my life the past few years.  The medications in the photograph represent the sum total of medical science bearing down on me.  Some I take daily to stay alive, some weekly to keep my body from chewing its joints apart, and others specific for the matter at hand.  It’s stunning what they represent — I’m wearing out.  And unlike a Vespa that wears out I can’t trade myself in.  So my doctor and I keep tinkering like old mechanics to keep me running.

I’m grateful for the medical care I can access.  The situation is just another event on the path that I need only accept and figure out what to do next.  As I write my sinuses are just beginning to clear enough that I don’t have to breath solely through my mouth.

Silver Lining to Being Sick — Sort Of

There is a bright side to the sleeping and laying around — there’s been opportunities to dream.  I’ve looked at and read about the new Fujifilm X-Pro2 Body Professional Mirrorless Camera and plotted out an entire system.  And while imagining life with the new Triumph Street Twin motorcycle I found myself in an email conversation with moto-journalist Frank Melling who did a great review of the bike.  He’s got a new book out that I’m planning to buy that recounts his story of motorcycling and journalism.  The book, A Penguin In A Sparrow’s Nest: The Story of a Freelance Motorcycling Journalist looks like a fine read.  I’ll write a bit more about him when I’m out of the desert.

So no riding, just trying to recover before anything bad happens.  I’m grateful to have the chance.

Second Chance

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I’m thankful for a second chance.

Vespa GTS scooter at nightRiding Appreciation

One of the first things I thought about after my heart attack was whether I could ride again.  I worried about my wife and kids, the dogs, friends, work and all the things that make up a life.  In regard to riding I was worried about myself.  Riding the Vespa is not a hobby or recreational outlet.  It’s a critical aspect of maintaining sanity in a crazy world.

I get irritable if I don’t find road time with the scooter.  If pressed, I consider it a spiritual act.  I’m thankful that I have a second chance.

Braved the cold this evening for a Vespa ride to see the new Triumph Bonneville Street Twin motorcycle. Kissell Motorsports, Purple Lizard Maps and Rothrock Coffee sponsored the event.  All I had to do was show up.

Triumph Bonneville Street Twin motorcycleGrowing Gratitude

Watching a father and son (I assume) looking at the bike I thought about how fortunate I am to be standing here witnessing everything going on around me.  I started thinking of all the things I have to be grateful for.

Carolina wrens were singing as I walked through the snow with Junior and Lily in the morning.  It’s a privilege to listen to such fine song.  Having two fine canine companions is a gift.  Being able to walk is a joy.  Looking around at my life I have so much to be thankful for that it’s easy to neglect things — big and small.

My wife Kim continues to shine a light on paths I would not otherwise know.  Friend and family enrich the trip just by being themselves.  I have a roof over my head.  Hell, there are chocolate chip cookies in the cupboard right now.

Waiting.

Infant graddaughter

Who Are You?

My infant granddaughter promises challenge, excitement and joy.  I’m already planning her riding safety training.  Her mother just laughed.

The night draws to a close and I feel my body leaning toward temporary oblivion.  And as the last thoughts fade, surely one of those thoughts will acknowledge the gratitude I feel for the life I’ve been given.