Jack Riepe in Moscow

After watching the unidentified rider in the above video I could only think of the riding prowess personified by the author of Twisted Roads.

I jest, Mr. Riepe doesn't ride a Yamaha R1 and besides we all know a K bike would never fit between cars on the road without creating sparks. And wheelies would be out of the question.

Seriously though I thought this video a good point of departure to think about riding safety. Right here we are on the far end of the safety bell curve. Please comment if there is some rationale I'm missing.

I've been thinking about safety, risk, and responsibility on the road for a couple months now, both for riders and cagers. Perhaps this post will push me over the edge into actual writing.

Until then, don't ride like the rider above. Stay safe.

Taking Steps to Be Safe

Common sense, exposure to others with greater skill and experience, training, practice and enough humility to be honest about our own ability and limitations. That’s all you need to be a safe rider. Simple. Easy. All but that last part.

I don’t have any simple formula for humility or honesty when it comes to riding and safety. I suppose we each come to it in our own way, some quickly, some not so quickly. I feel fortunate to have crossed paths with several people who have steered me in the right direction – for me. Learning to ask questions related to personal skills, habits and beliefs is a good first step. A healthy measure of suspicion of riding truths and beliefs might be a good second one if you can manage it. There are a lot of sacred cows out there. Some are worth keeping but others need slaughtered. (I heard my boss utter those words in a recent meeting.)

So what am I doing kneeling on the road. That has to be safe right? Consider it an editorial illustration stressing the importance of paying close attention, which in this case is a check of the road surface. Whenever the temperature is near the freezing mark or lower I have a personal ritual of walking out in front of the house and checking for ice. Not on my hands and knees but a quick stroll and some twisting of my boots on the pavement to gauge traction. Not a perfect test or necessarily relevant to what’s over the hill but it does get my brain consciously thinking about why may lie ahead. With so many hills and dales and trees overhead conditions can change suddenly and dramatically. After a day of rain and temperatures dipping into the 20s during the night I knew ice might be a possibility. I was pleased to discover that everything must have evaporated during the night and the road surface was dry and illuminated by bright sun under a clear sky.

It’s just one thing I do to try and make my ride safe.

Sometimes I stop by the local training course used by the Pennsylvania Motorcycle Safety Program for their Basic and Advanced Rider courses. All the paint and numbers would be a hopeless jumble had I not already been through the courses.

I’m not sure if the piles of Styrofoam panels are a new obstacle on the course or just being stored there temporarily until classes start in the spring. I was able to avoid hitting the pile and spent some time navigating through the course.

I think I may register again for the Advanced Rider Training to polish my skills. I’m never sure what I may have forgotten.

Good Rider, Bad Driver?

Fog draped the world when I rode into town on Sunday to meet a friend. Better planning would have found me wandering with a camera. Fog is a high alert situation and requires (me) steady concentration and skills at the ready. I’m familiar and experienced in these conditions. I’ve considered possibilities in general and specific options on the road. I feel I am a good rider and continuing two-wheeled learner.

Recently a postcard came across my desk advertising an advanced driver-training course offered by my employer. As I read through the description – evasive maneuvers, skidding, panic braking, and other things that I’ve only experienced in movies I began to wonder what kind of driver I am?

Riders tend to make sport of cagers and engage in tales of driver antics and idiocy. I suspect more than one character highlighted has been a rider who happened to be driving on that occasion. I have a lot of years behind the wheel, a lot of experience driving, but I’ve not thought much about it and aside from drivers ed class in 1970 haven’t practiced a thing.

Riding experience doesn’t necessarily translate to a car.

I was excited to take the driving course until I figured out it would cost almost 500 dollars. Sure, I would like to get on a track and learn some high-speed maneuvers and skid along like James Bond, but 500 bucks…

I’m thinking about my driving and what gaps exist in skill or temperament. I don’t often get angry anymore while driving. That’s a plus. And I’ve always had two-wheel drive pickup trucks and function fine in the Pennsylvania winters. I’ve even pulled a couple four-wheel drive vehicles out of snowy ditches. That has to mean something right?

Rider in the Mirror

Most riders pay close attention to their machines; inspecting, checking, making sure everything is working as it should. But how often do we look in the mirror and make the same critical assessment of our riding expertise?

It’s rare for me to meet a rider who questions their skill or ability. More often I hear stories of feats of speed or disaster averted. Long trips, great rides and recollections of weather, roads and people. Consideration of how good a rider one might be just doesn’t come up. Self-assessment in general is a cloudy and sometimes painful process. A lot of ego is tied up with riding and denial may be easier than honest reflection.

A look in the mirror doesn’t mean much to me unless I have some standard or definition of what it means to be a good rider. One man’s good is another man’s terrible. Looking at myself I see some riding experience – around 17000 miles on a Vespa over the past three years in a wider range of weather and conditions. Two MSF riding classes. And a running pseudo-evaluation of sorts through Scooter in the Sticks. But that’s probably not the level of assessment necessary to really make sure I’m as good as I should be on the road.

I’ve noticed that as time on the scooter increases so does confidence. But that confidence may be unfounded and even dangerous. The once complete feet down stops get replaced by slow rolling stops at an intersection I’ve seen a hundred times. Or riding faster through familiar territory because I know what to expect. The guy in the mirror isn’t too bright. Still, there are things I consider positive.

Dress for the Ride

What does that actually mean? If I pretend to be an outlaw biker does it mean jeans, t-shirt, sunglasses, and boots? And if the need arises for head protection a bandanna neatly tied over the top of my head? Or shorts, t-shirt, and flip-flops for a sunny Sunday scooter ride? Both costume choices fit the stylization of some in those riding cultures. I’ve always thought physics trumps culture and make my own choices accordingly. Regardless of your choice of two-wheeled conveyance the physics are the same.

A body falling onto pavement at 45MPH pays the same price whether delivered from a Goldwing or a Vespa. A head meets a curb or tree. A knee or elbow bangs the asphalt. All possible events for any rider. Not inevitable but possible. When I look in the mirror the rider I see always has a yellow and black armored jacket, over the ankle boots, full helmet, gloves, and long pants (and usually armored ones on top of those). Dressed for the possible physics of the ride.

Noticing Stupid Things on the Road

I don’t mean bad spelling on yard sale signs or the price of gas. For me it’s: 1. speeders, 2. tailgaters, and 3. the oblivious driver (usually connected to a cell phone). I always think individuals engaging in those behaviors are just sort of, well, stupid. But what really gets me chuckling is seeing items 1 and 2 performed by a rider. I just don’t have the degree of faith in my fellows on the road to do it and am happy to report the man in the mirror free of those defects.

Strategic vs. Tactical Riding

I’ve always felt there is more to successful riding than good tactical skills – being able to physically manipulate a machine on the road. All that’s important but those skills are like individual puzzle pieces – without them being put together to form a bigger strategic picture they don’t add up to much. Looking in the mirror for a while I realize that I think a lot about the rides I take. Where I am going, the characteristics or the roads I will travel, traffic patterns, road hazards I am aware of and those I could possibly encounter.  Like the dump trucks that zip across the road at the quarry entrance in the picture below. When the weather is bad these considerations are even more intense. Riding may put me “in the moment” but my mind is constantly processing things into a larger picture.

How Do I Get to Carnegie Hall?

Practice, practice, practice. The rider in the mirror practices and experiments and pushes the skills envelop. I still seek out places to practice quick and sudden stops bringing the scooter to a halt right at the edge of skidding. I experiment with balance and slow tight turns. And I test my ability to manage the Vespa on a wide range of dicey surfaces. They keep my mind and body in tune with the machine.

Report Card

The rider in this mirror gets a C. I’m making good progress. I’m doing the things I should be doing to be a safe rider. I’m not trying to bring track skills to the highway or duplicate stunt skills in traffic. I want to continue to learn how to be capable and conscious of the things I can do physically and mentally to reduce risk and enjoy riding.

Just Another Ride to Work

In warm weather riding the Vespa to work is automatic. The only time I don't is when I need to haul gear or people. In winter I make a quick assessment of road surface and mental state before making a decision. This past Thursday morning everything was aligned for scooter departure.

I chose a longer route to work to allow the battery to get a good charge. I don't use a battery tender because so far my riding frequency seems to be sufficient. The recent addition of electric gloves has me wondering but so far so good. I suppose if the battery is going to die it will be 50 miles from home at 10º F.

Riding continues to create a hyper-awareness of my surroundings that is difficult to find while driving a car. I probably would not have seen the deer along the road while driving. I'm just cut off from the world by steel and glass. Looking at the deer I realized I don't consciously watch for deer while riding. I watch for everything. Everything in front and back, left and right. Things come into focus in a continual processing of sensory information.

The ride to work was routine. The weather forecast called for snow showers late in the day but I assumed I would be home before they arrived. At 2:30 PM I saw the first snowflakes falling outside my office window. When I walked to the Vespa at 4:30 PM I found it covered in snow. The roads were still mostly wet with a bit of intermittent greasy slush.

Plans to travel across farm lanes when I realized that snow was accumulating too quickly to comfortably handle the steep grades in a few places. I wandered home on back roads and kept a careful eye on speed and road surface.

The local limestone quarry always looks good in the snow and I couldn't resist stopping for a picture. The wet snow is surprisingly slick and I had to work a bit to get the scooter back onto the road even with all the gravel under the tires.

Various amounts of snow accumulated as can be seen in the curve in the above photograph. Easily negotiated but a potential disaster for a careless rider traveling too fast for conditions and assuming the road is merely wet.

I arrived home safely, brushed the snow and slush from the Vespa before parking it in the garage, and joined Kim for a cup of hot tea. Watching the snow out the front window warm and snug after just another ride home from work.

Decision Time: Snow is Falling

When I looked out the window of my office yesterday at midday it was snowing. The temperature hovered at 32º F. It was just like last winter when I rode home in a snowy mess. I was taking the afternoon off, a few extra vacation days tacked on to the Christmas holiday. I had things to do and had to make a decision.

On went the gear and I found myself looking at the snow covered Vespa. The roads were wet but clear so I made a decision to ride.

Just in case the temperature dipped and snow would start to accumulate on the road surface I traveled home by roads less traveled where I could more easily set the pace without triggering any emotional displays from drivers intent on getting somewhere fast.

Snow continued to fall in large flakes and I enjoyed the transformation of the landscape under the soft light. Scenes like this are why riding in winter is so satisfying.

The roads remained clear until I got closed to home and the roads were more protected by tree cover and I suspect a bit colder. Strips of slush and snow grew larger and were quite slippery. I stopped several times to test the traction and the utility of the Pirelli tires on the Vespa GTS.

At best, their utility in this type of weather is marginal. The tread design doesn't allow for an aggressive bite in snow and the rubber compound doesn't retain the sticky traction qualities shown in warm weather. Careful riding, slow speeds, and continual planning make it possible to ride reliably in this sort of stuff.

The weather forecast doesn't call for any snow until after Christmas so the riding should be fair at least until then. And I'm on vacation too. I wonder what I can do...

Vespa GTS 250ie Off-Pavement Riding Review

While the Vespa GTS 250ie and I may look at home off the pavement at least one of us is not. This post is more a commentary on my riding skill than any inherent capacity or deficiency of the scooter. And it's probably fair to say that the word Vespa is not often uttered in the company of words like Husqvarna, Dakar, KTM, Baja, and others synonymous with off-road racing and riding. A lot of things working against us.

Devils Elbow Road winds down from the Appalachian Plateau, a narrow, loosely packed gravel road with lots of washboard areas on the steeper sections. The Vespa feels like one or both of the tires could slip out at any moment as I proceed along the smoother sections at 25 MPH. I have to fight the urge to put my feet out as outriggers like I do in the snow. I keep telling myself to keep my head up and throttle even. The wheels still feel as if they are sliding around.

While trying not to picture the paint after a drop I throttle back to 20 MPH, which turns out to be a comfortable speed for me. I try hard to remember what my old Kawasaki dirt bike felt like on similar roads but my memory isn't that sharp.

I tempt fate by throttling up for short periods or stop suddenly to gauge the traction the tires have in the gravel. None of this affords any additional riding confidence. I'm running the stock Sava tires and 3000 miles has squared the back one off making it a candidate for replacement. A more aggressive tread might help but I wonder how much of this riding I would actually be doing and why 20 MPH isn't just fine. Then I picture a 40 mile stretch of this sort of gravel.

The Pennsylvania Bureau of Forestry is big on crushed limestone road surfaces. Sometimes they feel unstable when I walk on them so I guess I should be happy with the progress the Vespa and I are making. At one point the road is just packed clay and dirt and I am able to easily move at 40 MPH making me wonder how well a KLR would perform on the loose and at times deep gravel. (Gary, this is your cue.)

The jury is still out on the Vespa's off-road capability. I can say it's not and off-road racer in it's stock setup and judging by it's performance on the washboard surfaces I would not want to challenge the suspension on anything rough at speeds beyond a crawl. But I was able to travel and get where I was going. At a leisurely pace it will go all day. Perhaps with a bit more practice the Vespa (or me) will become a reasonable traveler off the pavement.

Helmets and Style

Anyone who knows me will tell you style is not the first thing that comes to mind when my name is mentioned. That's not to say there aren't some style choices going on in my life. My choice of a modern Vespa was made in part because I liked the visual style. Beyond that I am beginning to have trouble. I wear jeans but more because of their utility than style. The riding clothes I wear were chosen for utility as well. I picked a bright yellow riding jacket because I wanted other members of the driving community to be able to see me and perhaps not run me down as readily. That bumblebee look has become of personal style now and I wouldn't wear anything but black and yellow now. How would anyone know it's me in pictures?

A helmet for many is a personal style choice, a safety choice, or a personal freedom choice. For me, like with the yellow riding jacket, it was a safety choice. The color of the helmet was a style choice.

So where the hell am I going with this?

Yesterday on the way to work I am riding into town on Atherton Street, a four-lane road with no center divider and many driveways and streets attaching themselves to it. I'm traveling in the right-hand lane at 50 MPH. A colleague from work, Chad, is behind me in his red BMW Z3. A Toyota Land Cruiser is passing on the left and just as it pulls even with me I see in my peripheral vision a large bird sweep out from in front of the Toyota's windshield. This happens in an instant and my brain has time to acknowledge the flight path of the bird and tighten my neck muscles for impact.

The bird hits squarely in the center of my visor with startling force. It felt like someone took a swing at me with a baseball bat. The bird careens off to the right and I give my head a shake to make sure everything is still working. The Vespa GTS and I maintain a straight line on the road and continue on our merry way.

In the office Chad stops by to remark on the impact and how surprised he was by it. We both agree how nice it was to have a helmet --- me so more damage wasn't done, him because he didn't have to run me over if I got knocked down.

At lunchtime I had to run an errand and as I was taking off my helmet in a parking lot a beautiful custom painted Harley Davidson Fatboy pulls in. The rider is in commonly seen style - T-shirt, jeans, boots, no gloves, no helmet, no goggles or glasses, no windshield. I can't help but wonder what that bird impact would do. I remember my cousin was knocked off his Harley by an apple lofted from a passing car.

On the way home last evening I was aware of how little warning you really get for some things like a bird, a darting cat, dog, groundhog or deer. A rock thrown up by a passing truck. There is no time for evasive action in some of these cases. Just enough time to recognize the impending event.

I will have to seek some advice from those of you with more experience on what one actually does in these situations. All I can come up with is to brace myself for the collision and hope everything stays together and upright. And I suppose it is a reminder to slow down in certain situations and have some protective gear.

And there comes the personal decision. Style, safety, freedom. We each are responsible for ourselves.

UPDATE

Frank Armstrong aka pitchertaker posted a link in the comments section that deals with bird collisions of another sort. If you are a timid flier you may not want to watch this.

Mayday Thomson 757

Lazy Bastard or Reasonable Rider

I already had my earplugs in, helmet on, and ready to thumb the starter when I realized I still had my low work shoes on. Normally I ride with over-the-ankle leather Wolverine boots but I forgot to change before leaving my office. I sat a moment pondering what to do.

Riding home here in rush hour traffic is not the battle that urban commuters face on a daily basis. There is definitely more traffic but it only adds five minutes to the non-rush hour travel time.

I'll also admit to not wearing the armored pants either. Haven't been wearing them consistently since the weather warmed up. Even so I can't say the heat is the reason since temperatures still hover in the low to mid 40's in the morning. I've convinced myself I'm dressing for the ride. A reasonable thought. I might even believe it if it weren't for the fact that I have been letting the pre-ride tire pressure checks slide to weekly ones. And let's not talk about oil and fluid level checks. I suppose as my skill in manipulating the scooter have improved so much that there is really no need to put my feet down at stop signs. Perhaps the mental energy I am burning to consider these changes is merely a way to avoid thinking about more important topics. Or not.

On this ride home I feel unexpectedly exposed and vulnerable on the Vespa. I notice a tire-eating opening in the pavement that I hadn't seen before. Waiting at a traffic light I see two T-short clad, tennis shoe wearing, sportbike riders scream around a Greyhound bus and I marvel at their faith in what might be in front of that bus.

Farther along I try to convince myself that riders competing in the Tour De France travel at speeds comparable to what I'm doing. A look in my rear-view mirror at a couple arguing in the cab of a Ford F250 truck two car lengths behind me highlighted one difference between Lance Armstrong and myself.

I did go back into my office to change shoes. I have consistently been wearing full-helmet, earplugs, armored jacket, gloves, long pants, and boots. But not wearing the armored pants has bugged me for some reason. Commuting in jeans and running errands without the Tourmaster Overpants feels nice. I've gotten down on my knees often enough in the driveway to do something and felt the electric pain when a sharp pebble drives itself into my knee to realize that armored pants offer more than skin protection.

On the way home I stopped to look at some trees in bloom at a local cemetery that claims to be the birthplace of Memorial Day.

There is a large bronze statue there of three women laying flowers at the grave of a soldier fallen during the Civil War. I arrived home safe but without resolution of my personal concerns.

This morning I road to work fully geared because it was raining. The ride home was even worse in a torrential downpour. I don't know what the heck is up with my gear but by the time I got home I was drenched from the waist down. Time to look at some changes. Wet at 75 degrees on a short ride isn't bad though. Just made me feel like I accomplished something!

Riding Safely Doesn't Come Naturally

I saw this video on Bikes in the Fast Lane Motorcycle News. It highlights the thought process that an experienced rider might go through in a similar situation. It also begs the question if an experienced rider would ever get into this situation in the first place. And things happen very, very quickly on the road.

Either way it reminded me that buying a motorcycle and getting a license in no way prepares a rider to manage risk safely on the road. It doesn't even prompt a person to ask the right questions.



As a daily commuter and year round rider I realize my skills are limited and that I not only don't have all the riding answers, I don't even know what all the questions are. So I try and continue to practice and learn every time I get on the Vespa.

I have a lot of fun riding but I have a responsibility to myself, to my family, and to the other drivers and riders on the road to know what I'm doing. I want to be a rider --- not an owner who happens to take the machine out on the road.

Dan Bateman's Musings of an Intrepid Commuter blog is loaded with posts that help a person embrace intelligent action. He is a master - teaching or riding.

Just a few of his riding skills posts:

Aim First, Then Fire --- help with negotiating curves.
Braking in a Curve
Part II, Stopping Quickly in a Curve

If you take some time and pour through Dan's blog you will find a wealth of information that will make you a better and safer rider. And if you post it can be like having your own personal riding coach! I'm hoping Dan doesn't start a PayPal system for solid advice.... *grin*

Thoughts on Risk and Personal Responsibility

My last post raised questions about the wisdom and folly of riding home in the snow. Adverse conditions pose technical challenges for a rider but I want to focus more closely on risk assessment and the personal responsibility I assume when I get onto the scooter.

Many assume riding is inherently dangerous and I won’t disagree. I’m never sure how to respond when someone tells me they would never ride a motorcycle because it is too dangerous. Even a brief look at Ride2Die.com is a sober reminder of how things can go terribly wrong. But what’s missing from these cautions is the consideration a rider brings to the ride. In this case my assessment of circumstances and the skills and expertise I bring to the decision making process. An accident or other dangerous encounter is not a certainty and the risk of one can be greatly mitigated by careful and deliberate choices. And this brings me to my choice to ride home in the snow.

When I began riding again less than two years ago I read a lot of motorcycle training books. I remember one warned against riding at night and in the rain. Ever. And it provided strong arguments in support of that position. Riding in the snow was at best a fool’s errand. So how have I arrived at a place where I ride in rain, at night, and in the snow?

I am not indifferent to the risks posed by these conditions and have considered them carefully while sitting in the comfort of my living room, while standing in the doorway making a decision about riding, and while on the back of the scooter. I ask myself if I am up to the ride technically, physically, and mentally. I run through the potential pitfalls. And finally I ask if I am ready to accept the consequences of my decisions.

I don’t want to talk about legal responsibility or the bad habits or missteps of other drivers. I can’t control whitetail deer or objects on the road. I can’t control potholes or gravel. They are part of the roadway landscape and I can either accept them or not ride. So I choose to focus on what I can do as a rider and find there is a wide range of actions at my disposal.

Back to the ride in the snow. Several ideas have been raised about my decision. One is that it was a bad decision. I agree, sort of. For me it was the wrong decision based on my general desire to not have to ride in snow. I don’t like riding in snow and had I known what was ahead I would not have ridden. I don’t accept the idea however that any riding in snow is crazy or ill fated. It all depends.

Another point raised was I should have known better than to get on the scooter and ridden off when snow was already falling. Guilty. In hindsight I should have ridden the bus.

The most interesting comments were when things got bad I should have parked the scooter and gotten home another way. The risk to life and limb being too great. I agree and this is the one I struggle with. I could have parked the scooter almost anywhere along the way home yet I didn’t. It’s not like it didn’t occur to me as an option. I considered the situation and determined I would be able to continue on. I was constantly testing the road surface, minding the traffic levels, mediating my speed to match the limits of the scooter in the snow and my own ability to manage slipping and sliding. I even factored a fall into the equation. Considering these things I determined the risk to be manageable.

I’ve been looking at Tom Brown’s Field Guide to Wilderness Survival where he identifies the mind as the most important tool to survival. And in order to keep the mind functioning smoothly one must have a positive attitude. I suggest the same applies to riding, especially in adverse conditions.

For riders who don’t have experience in foul weather this kind of ride may appear foolhardy. Others may consider I a personal challenge to master, a chance to test skill and mettle and stretch the limits of experience. While I don’t seek out these kinds of situations I know they will present themselves and coping with them have meaning and importance.

The bottom line – as long as I carefully consider what I am doing and make honest evaluations I am comfortable accepting the risk and outcome. I did this last year when I dropped my LX150 in the snow on the way to work, when I destroyed the LX150 while attempting to change the drive belt, and most recently making the ride home in the snow.

I’ll close with a recollection of sailing one morning out of Provincetown, Massachusetts north to Portland, Maine in high winds and a rough sea. As the weather worsened a sudden, strong gust of wind almost knocked the boat down while I was setting a reef in the mainsail. I remember a flash of disaster in my mind but immediately began an assessment of what to do next. My skill and experience was equal to the situation and my friends and I sailed on to our destination. While not an experience for every sailor it was not an unreasonable level of risk for me. And so it was for the Vespa and I in the recent snow.

Error in Judgment

I walked out of my office yesterday evening to a snow covered Vespa GTS. After making the picture and brushing off the snow I made an error in judgment---I decided to ride home.

The morning weather forecast called for sun in the morning followed by a chance of snow showers or rain with no accumulation and temperatures approaching 40° F. I had already put my seat and rear bag covers on at noon in preparation for the moisture predicted to arrive. Through my office window I saw the flurries begin not concerned because in my head I was thinking of above freezing temperatures. Let it snow, it won't stick.

When I saddled up the snow was just beginning to stick on the parking lot surface. I'm thinking to myself that's OK. The rush hour traffic will wear it away on the road. Waiting to pull out of the parking lot I'm rubbing my feet on the road surface checking the traction. There is enough on the ground to plow little ridges of snow and slush around my boots. Not too bad I tell myself, it will get better once I am on the main road.

A mile later the road is completely covered in slushy grease and it is snowing hard----ice pellets and snow and the wind is gusting causing the Vespa to lurch. Feet go down in outrigger fashion to help stabilize things. At one point I with a Ford Explorer bearing down on me from behind while I'm traveling at the impolite speed of 20 MPH in a 25 MPH zone and am having a difficult time seeing as ice gathers on the outside of my visor while the inside fogs. I am trying to wipe both sides and control the scooter at the same time. At almost the last moment I see a pile of snow across the road courtesy of some thoughtful sidewalk shoveler who never caught up with the last snowfall. Feet down, slight rear brake to slow a bit before impact, I strike the pile hoping to follow a tire track through. The Vespa shudders to one side and I feel the front wheel break free. A food down holds the scooter up until I come out the other side and regain a bit of traction.

I turn off onto a side street to let the traffic go by and regroup. I'm thinking it was not a good idea to ride home after all. At least not with traffic this heavy. I consider an alternate route but the side streets are even worse. I'm not comfortable abandoning the scooter at this point so I determine that I will continue to ride home. I wait awhile at the intersection until I see a long gap in traffic and pull back onto the road. A long hill is ahead that I must go over and come back down the other side. The scooter navigates the uphill easily with the rear wheel only spinning once or twice. I'm already thinking of the steeper downhill side complete with a reverse banked turn. I pull over at the top of the hill to let traffic pass, clean the visor again, and think about how to approach this next hazard.

Several vehicles beep their horn. They are either indicating support or reminding me that I'm crazy. I can accept either sentiment. Once car stops. It is my daughter Hannah and her boyfriend Jason. They offer a ride home and when I decline they offer to drive behind me to keep the vehicles away from me. Now there's a plan.

I make it down the hill to the intersection with the main road out of town towards home. Four lanes of rush hour traffic thankfully traveling quite slowly due to weather and malfunctioning traffic lights. Jason and Hannah follow me about two miles where I turn off into their neighborhood and into their garage. The smart rider might have accepted the offer to park the scooter and take a ride home in the VW. I dried my visor with a paper towel and thought about the route home, another four miles wandering through neighborhoods and a back road into town. I knew there wouldn't be much traffic and I had come this far already so I make a decision to ride the rest of the way home.

I admit at this point it is a challenge. I want to know if I can do it and I assess the risk to be manageable. It is close to the edge though. The route now has seen much less traffic and the quality of the snow on the road is different, deeper, and much slicker. Feet come down more often. The wind is worse when I get to the open areas and I'm breathing heavily from the effort only making the visor problems worse. I stop to take pictures mainly as a chance to clean the visor.

The last long hill into town is slow going because the snow starts to fall faster and I have to keep my speed to about 10 MPH otherwise there will be no chance to stop or pull over if someone rushes up behind me. I'm wiping snow from visor and mirrors and trying to pay attention to my track on the road.

I finally pull into my driveway about an hour and ten minutes after leaving work. A 15-minute ride on a dry day by the direct route. I wiped as much of the snow and slush from the scooter and pushed it into the garage.

Just because I made it home without incident I am not sure if I made the right decision. Had I known at the beginning how bad it would be I might have parked the scooter in the parking garage at work and took the bus home. I admit to some apprehension at leaving it parked all night like that but it may have been an error in judgment on my part. At the very least I was riding at the edge of unmanageability.

A Few Words About Safety

It’s snowing outside again. Not hard but enough to influence a decision to stay off the road. I had my riding pants on before deciding to keep the Vespa in the garage. The roads are wet, mostly free of snow, and with temperatures in the high 20’s a ride is not out of the question.

I received a note from a fellow rider this week that described my riding and writing as revealing “the beauty that dwells in the middle”. He went on to explain this as a marked contrast to the media culture that pushes extremes. I smiled when I saw an advertisement on the online version of the New York Times announcing the coming episodes of National Geographic’s Planet Carnivore. I don’t live there.

Before moving on to safety I confess to a wonderful comfort in the middle. I am not an adventurer, warrior, or adrenaline seeker. I look at and think about the world in front of me and wherever I find myself it is enough. There are more discoveries still waiting for me in my backyard. As a photographer I find connection and direction in the work of Czech photographer Josef Sudek and his ability to find beauty right in front of him.

As a rider I am still learning. I don’t expect to stop until time or circumstance prevents me from continuing. Living in the middle as a rider means thinking about safety and carefully considering what that means to me and what risks I am willing to take. I don’t confuse living safely with managing riding risk. If I wanted to live safely I would not ride. It’s here that things can get sticky for some would be riders that want to live safely, carefully, and want to believe that accidents will never happen if they follow steps a, b, c….

The notion that accidents should not happen if everyone follows the rules may be how someone justifies a legal action for an accident. Unmet expectations on the road might lead to anger and rage when others don’t perform as they should. This angry energy gives rise to more and more unsafe drivers and highways. And it leaves me with more difficult questions related to managing risk. What can I do?

Safety breaks down into four areas for me:

1. State of mind
2. My physical condition
3. Mechanical readiness of the scooter
4. My skill and experience in making and executing decisions

Each of these can respond to work and energy that I put into them. None fall into the Act-of-God area. All benefit from practice and attention and will make my ride safer. And I know they make me a better man. When I look at this short list and ask myself if I applied it to driving before I became a rider the answer is no. Riding safely, managing risk, and riding “in the middle” works together like magic to sweep away the curtain that make it difficult to appreciate the quiet places and moments in front of me.

The snow has continued to fall while I have typed this post. The house is quiet save for Kim turning pages in a magazine and I am living in the middle. I’m grateful that riding has made it much easier to accept and appreciate the life I have.


Don't forget to let the motorcycle industry know how you feel about things in the 2007 Riders Choice Awards sponsored by Motorcycle Bloggers International. Dream bikes, dream rides, the good and the bad, and off course if you are so inclined Scooter in the Sticks is in the running for best blog! Click the image to get to the ballot.

Road Rage, 7 degrees , and the Vespa GTS

I'm getting frustrated. We have had consistent snow and cold. The Vespa GTS is too shiny and new for me to take out in the mess not to mention I do not feel comfortable enough yet to brave the snow with only 60 miles under my belt on the new scooter.

In my non-riding frustration I came across this road rage device. Maybe one for two-wheeled vehicles will be available soon.

Click HERE to view the great road rage tool! You'll need the QuickTime movie plugin to view it.

For more Trunk Monkey enjoyment check out the other Trunk Monkey videos HERE

Looking for Risk

As I do every morning I look out the front door to see what the day has in store for me in terms of riding. I may walk outside to test the road surface and I'll always look at the weather forecast. I'm looking for risk. I don't mean I am seeking out ways to put myself at risk. I just want to know what risk I'll be facing. Physical and performance differences between my new Vespa GTS and the LX150 I used to ride force me to make different choices. Because I am still unfamiliar with the handling characteristics of the GTS I'll conservative in my decision-making.

Dry snow on the road, temperature hovering at 15° F, an occasional snow shower predicted, windy with 40 MPH gusts, I would take the LX150 to run errands. I'm comfortable handling it in these conditions and readily accept the risks presented by the road surface and weather not to mention the other drivers. I won't accept the risk with the GTS though because there are too many unknowns right now simply because I don't have enough experience on this scooter.

Dan Bateman over at Musings of an Intrepid Commuter is a master at assessing risk and offers us an opportunity to learn how to manage safely while riding. I thought it would be a good idea to point out one of his posts titled "Why am I Here?" This thoughtful piece provides riders and commuters with something that makes you think about where you are on the road and how the decisions made set you up for success or disaster. It is definitely worth reading and thinking about. If I have learned one thing from Dan over the past year it's that the longer I ride the more I realize I don't know. His writing makes it easy to put my pride aside and make myself a better rider.

The wind is blowing hard now and my dog is antsy for a walk. The GTS is going to have to chill in the garage a bit longer today. The extended weather forecast is calling for similar weather for the next five days so I am going to have to be patient...

Christmas Spirit vs. Riding Safety

Two days until Christmas. Everywhere I see bright faces and smiles, people shopping, families with children looking at decorations. Consumed by the magic of the season. Maybe the commercial part but I’m sure there are some more spiritual experiences too. Either way people are rushing, working, laughing, planning, buying, wrapping, talking, singing, and driving. Yes driving. After riding into town today I have to believe the heightened Christmas spirit and driving don’t mix too well with riding safety. Or maybe I am merely experiencing what is normal everyday life for those of you in more urban settings.

I left the house around 9AM this morning. The temperature was about 40° F and it was raining. Not hard but enough to keep the roads wet, generate a small bit of fog and mist to paint the world from a grey template. A fine day for a ride and an excellent chance to test the waterproof characteristics of the rain cover for the MotoFIZZ bag I now have on the rear rack. Riding down the road from my house I see a car coming down a side street to my left that ends at a stop sign. I have the right-of-way, I see the driver looking at me but the car is not slowing down. I ease off the throttle and cover the brakes as he rolls through the stop sign at 15 MPH and onto the road in front of me. I follow him down to the traffic light where he pulls up behind a truck waiting to turn left. I glide by him on the right and make a right turn onto the highway going towards town. I see in my rear view mirrors that the car turns right instead of left. I’m riding on a four-lane road with many connecting roads, lanes, and driveways and I always pay careful attention to everything on this stretch. Two miles down the road the car catches up to me as traffic slows for a series of lights. He is in the left lane and I in the right. Another half mile up the road he decides he wants to be in the right lane so he can make a right turn. I am presented with my first spiritual decision of the day. I can continue on the course I am on and effectively block his attempt to turn right. None of the cars are inclined to let him in. Or I can slow almost to a stop to let him in. I can tell you that in the past, in the pre-scooter days, I would not have let him in. Especially after the stunt he pulled earlier. I slow and let him in, he turns right and I follow him along up the hill. We continue on for about two more miles until he signals that he is going to make a right turn into an office complex. I have to go to the same place. I’m thinking he is worried now that some big mean scooter rider is going to pummel him in the parking lot. I smile to myself and go about my business without any further interaction or notice of the offending car.


Later as I am riding in town I feel as if I am dodging people and vehicles constantly. Everyone is talking and laughing and not paying a whole lot of attention to the road. I see a young driver in a white Ford Explorer chattering away on a cell phone as they pull across my path from an alley. They really looked happy, eyes all aglow, full of the Christmas spirit. Near disaster later as I am leaving town and a Jeep Grand Cherokee runs a stop sign at 35 MPH on a really busy street and me only 20 yards from the intersection. It was a surprise seeing that Jeep rush past in front of me, driver’s left hand holding the phone to their ear talking I’m sure about whether to buy the heating pad for Uncle Owen or just get him a pound of fudge. I’d take the fudge.

The real news here is not that drivers, pedestrians, and dare I suggest riders don’t always pay attention to the road. The more important news is that I don’t get angry anymore about these things. And not so long ago I could really generate some grudge and rage fuel from these sorts of things. While riding I have become more accepting of the inconsistencies on the road, and that generally it’s not personal. I have some expectations of drivers and riders but if they aren’t met, well, that’s OK. And I accept what those shortcomings could mean to my own wellbeing. I don’t really know if all those people are full of the Christmas spirit or not. But I know that I’m feeling it and it makes it pretty easy to be generous on the road.

The waterproof rain cover kept everything dry. I had a bit of difficulty at first figuring out the best way to cinch it over the pack. I left it sloppy in the back but by the end of the day I figured out how to have it nice and snug. I did worry a bit about leaving the scooter parked in the parking garage wondering if some enterprising thief would grab it for a present for some rider thief. After a few moment of consideration I decided that it’s only a bag and if it is going to be useful I will have to leave it on the scooter. When I returned it was still there. It was a good day.