Scooter in the Sticks

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

Vespa in the Fog

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Vespa at a rural intersection on a foggy morningFoggy Morning

This photo was made on the way to work just a mile from home on a less than direct route.

There’s a ritual that blooms each morning with the return to consciousness. Eyes scan the room, hand reaches for the water glass and the dog stirs in anticipation of a new day. Simple moments gather momentum from bed to shower and on toward the back door; two dogs now prancing as if today will be the best day ever.

Ever.

During those moments I glance out the window, a sneak peak of the story that might unfold in the next minutes and hours. When I see fog, like the dogs, I prance. Edging toward the end of the 62nd year on earth I feel lucky that I can be pushed to prance. The crashing of waves on a rocky coast, a sudden rainbow after a storm, tall white clouds against a strong blue sky — each has the power to unleash a dancing sprite that still breathes inside. Riding a scooter has added years to that dancer’s life.

And my own.

The prospect of riding to work in the fog causes all to fade in anticipation of the grey shrouded world of mystery and imagination. An ordinary, pedestrian trip from home to office becomes an epic journey of struggle and revelation.

I love riding a Vespa in the fog.

Vespa and fog breaking over a mountainClearing Skies

Some of the most dramatic landscapes are revealed beneath a clearing sky.  Sometimes those moments are fleeting as the clouds break for an instant allowing the light to change.  And then it’s gone.  I’ve watched the weather move through the Nittany Valley for over 40 years and it still holds my attention.

Riding a Vespa in the fog provides more opportunity to see the landscape that I ever did in a car.

Vespa in the fog along a rural roadAlong a Murky Road

Absent a horizon I can imagine roads stretching across great distances, I feel my spine stretch and stiffen, girding myself for adventure if only on a miniature scale. Riding has switched on genes first programmed when prehistoric ancestors pursued mastodons and saber toothed tigers — business of life and death that few riding on the roads of America ever approaches. For a few minutes I am more, greater than my self. Riding provides a lavish physical and emotional connection to the world. Fog transforms it to a realm of magic.

Vespa in the fog on a rural gravel roadRiding in the Fog

Let no rider be lured by fog’s siren song onto the rocks. There is much to tend in the real world — concerns for visibility both by the rider of others and others of the rider. Fogged visors and slick roads add to the challenge.

And the risk.

I never tire of considering risk. I value my life and respect the threats to it but I do not dwell on unfortunate coincidence or disaster. I never ask, “What if this happens to me?”. I always ask, “What if I have to stop riding?”

It’s a dark world in which I can’t ride. I know it will happen someday.  Choosing to stop riding is as puzzling to me as people who surrender their dog or cat to the pound because they purchased a new carpet. Things change.

Riding is indelibly etched in my DNA and has waited for decades to surface. There are no cures or 12 step programs. Only the burden of desire carried each day that claws inside whining and snarling to ride.

Fog only stirs the beast.

What ignites your riding desire?

Riding in Frozen Fog

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If you really want to know what Middle-earth is based on, it’s my wonder and delight in the earth as it is, particularly the natural earth.  — J.R.R. Tolkien

Meadow covered in ice crystals from a frozen fogAwakening from a dream only to find another.  For a week at the beginning of December each day began shrouded in fog and mist.  And on a few sub-freezing days the world was painted with ice crystals while riding in frozen fog.

I understand Tolkien’s wonder and delight at the world.  I need not go far to find it myself.  The Vespa has transported me to and through many wonders.

These mornings have been the coldest riding so far this fall and for the first time required some extended thought and consideration of the road surface and potential for ice.  For successful winter riding I believe a fundamental shift in thought and temperament is essential.  I counsel against sub-freezing riding for the simple reason that most riders have a difficult time becoming someone else in winter.

The road while riding in frozen fogI love being alone in the fog, standing on an empty road lost in fantasy, a prisoner of imagination.  I’m living in my world, but just down the road, just out of sight in the fog is another.

Riding in frozen fog is doubly challenging due to limited vision on top of the potential for ice on the road.  Riding is different; more controlled and governed.  Roads covered in frozen fog aren’t the place to lean aggressively through turns or push the envelop of speed and power.  It’s a different kind of riding.

Trees shrouded in frozen fogSubdued, ice covered scenes lined each side of the road as I wandered along on the Vespa.  Making photographs was, in part, an excuse to test the surface of the road with the sole of my boots.  Most of the ride showed little ice on the pavement but since there’s been no salt yet this season I couldn’t count on a dry surface.

Ice covered trees forming a tunnel while riding in frozen fog A Hollywood production would make a scene like this.  Riding along through the morning revealed a continual magical landscape that left me wide-eyed and smiling.

And cold.  The time has come to put the Tucano Urbano muffs over the handgrips to keep the wind away from my aging fingers.

Vespa GTS scooter in a frost covered fieldHow often do you ride and find yourself wishing?  Wishing for more time, for one more ride and one more road…

When I find myself wishing I wonder if I’m sensing time slipping by more quickly, or maybe just realizing how fleeting all of these experiences really are.  Like fog and frost.

Vespa GTS scooter in the fog in Rothrock State ForestI’ve driven or ridden this stretch of forest road countless times since I first made the journey in my VW Beetle back in 1972.  And now I stand there thinking I may never pass this way again.  Fear and anxiety live in the fog and mist.

Riding down the mountain toward town I had to stop periodically to warm my hands — additional evidence that I need to get the muffs on.

Riding in frozen fog with the Vespa GTS scooterAll I want is to see the world one more time.  The fog strips away the noise and confusion leaving the bones of the world.  I think I can see where I’m going.

Making photographs in the cold weather calls on me to sacrifice my hands in order to manipulate the tiny buttons and wheels on the digital camera.  After all these years you would think I would have solved that problem.

At this moment I decide to ride toward hot tea and warmth and give up the pursuit of the magic landscape.

Round bales in the fogOn the way to the Pump Station in Boalsburg, Pennsylvania I stop to admire round bales in a field.  They stand like ancient dolmens on watch for something I can neither know or understand.

Perhaps overwhelmed by the visual part of the ride, the constant scanning for ice, the continual eye movements looking for vehicles fore and aft, I begin to fall slowly back to earth from the creations in my head, unexpectedly exhausted from the ride.

And that is a glimpse of what it’s like for me to ride in frozen fog…