Scooter in the Sticks

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

Singular Focus While Riding a Motorcycle

by 8 Comments

a chocolate chip cookie
A talisman of singular focus.

Chocolate Chip Cookie

How is it that a chocolate chip cookie is so important to me?

Is it really a talisman of some mindful focus on the present moment? Or merely a reflection of a lifelong addiction to sugar?

I choose to believe the cookie’s oversized importance points to something greater than sugar. A magical draw toward the present. A jumping-off point where I abandon the past and the future and exist now.

Of course, all of this may be a delusion brought on by a rhinovirus that woke me at midnight after hours of sleep, my body sluggish but my mind racing.

Still, there’s something to my singular focus on a cookie.

Continue Reading

Riding is Magic

by 25 Comments

It’s always a surprise what triggers me to write an essay for Scooter in the Sticks. This time it was dragging the garbage can to the street for pickup and seeing frost on the car.

BMW K75 motorcycle parked by the Mid State Trail in fog.
A magical, foggy morning on the motorcycle.

There are hints that winter is approaching; leaves descending from trees; geese honking overhead; squirrels and chipmunks growing fatter and fatter as they store the peanuts we put out for the birds. And now frost along with a faint bite on skin that rattles awake ancient programming in my DNA that whispers deep in my brain, “you better get ready…”

Those feelings sometimes emerge while riding, especially when conditions turn toward the surreal or become physically challenging. It happened one morning when I was riding the motorcycle into the mountains and encountered fog.

I discovered (again) that riding is magic.

Continue Reading

Giving Thanks

by 34 Comments

Hot chocolate at Saint's Cafe in State College, PennsylvaniaGiving Thanks Fueled by Hot Chocolate

While sitting at the window in Saint’s Cafe last night, a short interlude during errands, fueled by hot chocolate, the moment provided space to reflect on Thanksgiving and what giving thanks really means to me.

As a kid, Thanksgiving Day was always about food and hanging out in front of the television with my dad and uncles watching the Detroit Lions lose to someone. The fine china came out and I usually had to polish the seldom used silver for this special event. The entire family played their roles as the warm and familiar event unfolded each year.

I don’t remember giving thanks for anything though. At least not consciously.

Fast forward 55 years and Thanksgiving Day has a different meaning. I’m fully aware of how grateful I am for the bounty of physical, emotional and spiritual gifts that have been bestowed upon me and my family. I’m grateful that I can accept the days as they come and that pain as well as happiness are part of life. My job is simple — to stay present and experience what unfolds each day.Continue Reading

Happy Ending

by 42 Comments

Vespa GTS scooter at a happy ending before workEnd of the Road

I often find myself at the end of the road when riding the Vespa.  Continuing on isn’t possible or desirable.  A change in direction is necessary for the journey to continue.  It’s uncommon to arrive at the end of the road and think of it as a happy ending.  Remembering miles and miles of gravel strewn dirt forest roads only to come to an impassible gate is something other than a happy ending.  But that doesn’t happen often.

On a recent, meandering ride to work on a foggy morning I came to a place where I didn’t want to push on through the tall, wet grass replete with ticks and ground hog holes.  Besides, it was time to get to work where I was nearing another end of the road.Continue Reading

Looking Out the Window

by 6 Comments

Glass of water on window sill with Vespa scooter outsideMorning Water and Vespa Scooter

I always look out windows. Wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, there’s a hope of actually seeing the world. Sitting in the back seat of the car next to my granddaughter it was interesting to watch her young eyes peer out the window at the world.  I wondered how different her world must look from one weighed down with a lifetime of experience and opinion.

Mornings find me in an oak rocker with a bowl of cereal, gazing at nothing in particular, looking out the window as the day takes shape.  But the looking drives me like nothing else.  When I’m tired and exhausted you won’t find me rising to answer a phone or take on another chore, but I’ll always take another look out the window.

Riding is like that.  I’ll always ride one more mile — to see what’s out that road window ahead.Continue Reading