Revisited: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

How many riders have a copy of Robert Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance on their bookshelf? How many more, like me, have struggled with the text, the philosophy, and failed to make it to the end of the book? The pages turn easily for me when Pirsig describes the ride, the road and the people he encounters. But I bog down in his discussions of the metaphysics of quality. And I wouldn't finish despite thinking it was a great book. Until now. Until I happened upon Mark Richardson's book Zen and Now.

It felt good to read that Richardson struggled with Pirsig's book just like I did. Many attempts at it, a bit farther through and then bogging down. Zen and Now is Richardson's excellent riding story and interpretation of Pirsig's book. After I finished reading it I picked up Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, read it from cover to cover, and got it. Knew what it meant and decided again what a great book it is.

Richardson decides to ride the same route, visit the same places as much as possible as Pirsig and his son did that summer in the summer of 1974. His book not only provides the kind of vicarious experience that a good writer and rider can produce it does an amazing job putting the Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance in a context that means something to my life and riding. Many riding books and stories push me as a reader to the sidelines as the author plays out the story on a stage. Richardson does something different. He brings me onto the stage and I feel as if I am part of the trip.

I don't often recommend books but this one is special. Check out Richardson's Web site for more information or click the Amazon link below to buy it. (If you do I may make my first 25 cents from Scooter in the Sticks!)

Motorcycle Maintenance: To Zen or Not Zen

New drive belt, roller weights, spark plug.

After planning this work at 7500 miles I finally forced myself to do it at 8200. A friend commented that I did this for fun right? Fun? I can't remember the last time I had fun with a wrench in my hand but I bet it was in the 1960's. The only other reason would be to save money. It certainly saves on out-of-pocket expenses but once I factor in the time it takes any savings seems dubious. I'm not good but I am slow.

So why maintain the Vespa myself?

I've asked this question more than once lying on the cold concrete floor of our unheated garage trying to position my bifocals so I could see or each time I didn't have the right tool or part. Why do this work when it would be easy to schedule our local Vespa technicians?

I had to revisit Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig to find a more eloquent way to express the reasons I've engaged maintenance of the scooter. Chapter 2 is a great chapter wrestling with the idea of doing your own work. Pirsig writes:

"Here is the machine, isolated in time and in space from everything else in the universe. It has no relationship to you, you have no relationship to it..."

Pirsig rejects this notion and outlines the contemporary relationship most have towards their vehicles. A motorcycle or scooter is personal in a way a car can't be. Perhaps it is the inherent risk in riding, the physical exposure or vulnerability or the heightened awareness of the world that makes the machine more connected to me. I entrust my life to my scooter in a real sense and having a basic understanding of the basic mechanical functioning and maintenance seems a reasonable step to ensure a successful relationship. For me, I believe performing routine checks and maintenance of the Vespa keeps me honest, it keeps me paying attention, and it keeps me safe. And it makes riding richer. It makes sense to me in my head. Time will tell if it works in practice.

I'm no mechanic either but I don't want to feel helpless on the road should something happen. And I want to be able to repair failures myself on long trips that otherwise would spell the end of an adventure. Tires, drivebelt, ignition, cables, brakes, things that wear out or break. With the right parts and cooperation of a service station I could keep the Vespa on the road. The mechanical adventure. Not for everyone but I merely suggest you consider it. When I started this work I figured the worse that could happen is I would have to haul a half torn apart Vespa to the dealer to save me. A lesson in humility.

I'd like to say I enjoy this work but right now it is a challenge. Many years of greasy work under rusty old cars that I could not afford to have professionally repaired has soured my sense of mechanical adventure. But I won't let this stand in the way. The Vespa is a simple machine and almost any repair is within my ability with a bit of support or research. I purchased the Haynes manual for my Vespa and I also downloaded the Piaggio service manual and parts manual and had them printed and bound at Kinkos complete with waterproof covers that I can clean after using them.

The Modern Vespa forum is an extremely helpful place. More than once I've gotten stuck somewhere in the process, posted my question, waited ten minutes, got the answer, and went on my way. It's like having a mechanic on call! Check out this POST on changing roller weights. Towards the end you can see my frustrated self appear begging for help. And you can download all the service manuals HERE. I can't say enough about everyone who is part of that forum. Gary, the Technical Moderator (aka addicted), not only has extensive experience but he also provides therapy for the fearful as he lately did with me! It's worth joining if only to make it easier to follow the posting or do research on your Vespa or Piaggio dreams.

I did take the scooter out for a short test run and all is well. Stopped by this big willow tree to make a picture.


Now it's time to test the Vespa some more!