Scooter in the Sticks

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

Autumn Vespa Ride

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Vespa GTS scooter in autumn landscapeWaking in Autumn Aboard a Vespa Scooter

Notes from a cafe…

Steam rises from a cup of hot tea. A beam of sunlight warms cold hands and drives away demons of misgiving and doubt that appear with the changing of the season. The view of the mountain against a blue sky reveals the slow descent of changing leaves crawling down toward the valley.

All signals of the physical and spiritual tremor of autumn.

Riding changes in autumn, or perhaps it’s me who changes. The same eyes see a different road. The body shivers in air approaching the freezing mark. The spirit and mind contend over the choice between scooter and car. The pleasure of riding gives way to the need to ride to palliate the emotional uneasiness that reliably appears during autumn.

The familiar reawakening and recognition of the relentless march of life.

As a young man I could ignore and dismiss the thoughts. Further along they seemed an annoyance, a sign of weakness and fear. Riding through the years I’ve come to appreciate autumn as a revelation. An experience of the world easily concealed in noise and confusion.

On the way to work I parked the Vespa in a field to look at the muted earth tones painted in the low light of a gray morning. A physical quickening of blood flow and motion signals my reaction to riding in air near the freezing mark. There’s no recreation in this ride but rather something more; a gift of being aware of the magic of being alive on the earth regardless of what may be happening.

An autumn Vespa ride exposes the world and allows my mind to run free during moments in the saddle.

It’s a hell of a trip.

Scooter in Fog

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Lone tree in the fogMemories in the Mist

Every dog I’ve owned for the past 25 years has peed on this tree.  I’ve walked past it hundreds, if not thousands, of times and it seems unchanged.  I can’t say the same myself. Riding to work on another foggy morning the Vespa seems to have a mind of its own — turning and taking me where it will.  It’s especially strong with a scooter in fog.

Fog.

It’s not an ideal riding environment.  Perhaps dangerous.  Definitely presents more risk that any rider, scooter or motorcycle, should consider.

Vespa GTS scooter and traffic in fogFog and Traffic

I believe there’s no single right decision regarding riding in fog.  Or rain, darkness or wind for that matter.  Some riding skill books suggest only riding in warm weather during daylight hours with nothing affecting traction or visibility.  That path has the least risk.  One could go further and add no rush hour traffic, no heavy traffic, no high speed, no ill cared-for roads.  The list of risks is long.

Very long.

I was talking with a friend yesterday who moved from central Pennsylvania to a place north of New York City.  He described the difference in riding as one of anxiety producing risk where speed limits are ignored and everyone is in a competition to get ahead.  Literally.

Different risk.  Different choices.

Standing along the busiest route to work on a foggy morning I realize there are unique aspects of my riding environment that allows me to mitigate my risk more than my friend in New York.  For those considering riding in fog here are some things in play for me:

  1. Other drivers are largely non-aggressive.  If I slow down for the fog they do as well and not pressure or tailgate.
  2. There are plenty of opportunities for me to pull over and allow traffic to pass and then get back on the road.  This isn’t possible in other parts of the country, especially in more urban areas where traffic never breaks.
  3. There are many ways to get where I’m going.  Often roads with little to no traffic.

Vespa GTS scooter in foggy forestScooter in Fog

I can’t resist.  The visual stories are too strong.  My imagination overpowers reason and I find myself in magical realms.  When I grow up perhaps it will be different.

There’s fog on the mountains this morning.  The clock counts down to a trip to the chiropractor and then a day of script writing.  The fog sirens are loud though.

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.

Vespa Medicine

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Reflection of Vespa rider, Steve WilliamsNoise and Chaos

After a week of a sore back, thoughts of retirement and looming deadlines at work, I was ready for some Vespa medicine.  Something to slow down the neurons firing in my head. A ride on the scooter to soak up the crazy energy and let me savor the world.

Heading for a cup of tea I looked at my reflection in the window.  Smiling, thanks to a little ride into town.

Vespa GTS scooter in State College, PennsylvaniaScooter for the Urban Jungle

I can hardly invoke the term “urban” or pretend the towns I ride through are a “jungle”.  Still, it’s what I encounter. The ribbons of asphalt encountered in the countryside make the jaunts through town seem hectic in comparison.  The Vespa was designed with these sorts of places in mind and performs so well that I almost look forward to the times when I’m not looking for groundhogs and deer and instead grow wary of pedestrians and traffic lights.  The Vespa medicine is so strong that I seldom find even a slight rise in heart rate amidst the traffic that has others voicing their displeasure with horns and hand signals.

Riding soothes the beast.

Vespa GTS scooter under a heavy gray skyEuphoria in the Mist

God I love riding in the mist, navigating under a murky sky in a thin drizzle.  All riders have a description in their head of ideal riding conditions.  My own lean toward cold, dark and wet.  An unexplained thrill runs through my body that I can only attribute to some internal fantasy at work transforming an ordinary experience on the road into something just short of magical.  There’s a romance in the ride that sparks a physical reaction that’s hard to describe.

The effect of the Vespa medicine is enhanced.

Vespa GTS scooter at Wegmans grocery storeUnexceptional Riding

Seldom see a motorcycle at the grocery store.  Nothing adventurous, heroic or ego-building in collecting supplies.  The scooter seems to yield more easily to utilitarian tasks.  Or so I believe — it’s something magical about the Vespa and has little to do with the rider.  Whatever is at work, a ride to the grocery store can be as thrilling as a ride through the Quehanna Wilderness area.

I’m powerless over my Vespa and my life has become unmanageable.  Vespa medicine has unlooked for side effects.

Vespa GTS scooter on a rainy dayHome Again, Home Again Jiggety-Jig

From home to market and back again — living a nursery rhyme on a scooter, an aging man swept up in mechanical magic that propels an ordinary experience into something more, an undeniable craving to be flying along the road with the cares and concerns of life burned away leaving a simple thrill at being alive in the world.

Amazing what a little Vespa medicine can do.

No Schedule

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still life of an empty cup and a tea potSimplicity

This past Friday at 5pm my intent to retire from Penn State became irrevocable.  At the end of June I’ll step on to a path for the next adventure.  One of the siren songs of this new life is possibility of having no schedule to live by.  I can’t comprehend what that might be like.

Last weekend I rode into town to meet my friend Paul at Saint’s Cafe and look at some new photographs he made in Nova Scotia.  The simplicity of a cup of tea reminds me of what retirement could be — an opportunity to focus on one thing at a time without a chorus of mental heralds shrieking a list of times and places I have to be.

Vespa GTS scooter in State College, PennsylvaniaVespa Riding

The ride from home to town is familiar.  So much so that I have to heed that I don’t become complacent on the road.  My back still hasn’t recovered sufficiently to entertain long rides.  Four posts in September attest to the physical limitations I’m working with.

I’ve been looking at motorcycles again with an eye to adding one to the garage when I retire.  While partial to the Vespa scooter it surprises me how little excitement I can generate for any particular motorcycle.  The scooter has wrecked me for them perhaps.

Saint's Cafe in State College, PennsylvaniaSaint’s Cafe, State College, Pennsylvania

Even though the physical space remains the same, and often times I see familiar faces, Saint’s Cafe is like an ongoing story with twists and turns you can’t predict.  I never know what I’ll see or experience.  Can’t imaging growing tired of the place.

Retirement will test that theory.  And I’ll test it again in the morning.

I have a schedule to keep tomorrow.  Ugh…