Autumn is for the mind and spirit, the senses taking in the changing of the world. At no point during the year do I feel so exhilarated and sad at once. Falling leaves a sharp reminder of the impermanence of life yet the sparkling thrill of feeling alive amidst the sudden sea of color and fragrance makes this time a gift. Standing at the edge of the road I felt oddly parallel to the world around me, my body in sync with the autumn as I paused at the beginning of a ride to visit a rheumatologist at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore.
Still not sure why I chose to make this trip on the Vespa. By car on the freeway I can drone along at 75mph for four hours to make my appointment. The empty stretches of road are a moving meditation for the eye and the soul. Even though this trip would take 7 hours, an accurate estimate based on an assessment of the route and my propensity to stop to look, listen and make a picture. Or two.
My complaint is psoriatic arthritis, an inflammatory disease affecting the joints for which there is no cure. Looking at the field of corn transitioning into something else I couldn't help but see my own transition. One day healthy and the next barely able to walk. That was two years ago and I've been fortunate to find control of the symptoms with the tamest of the chemical interventions. Genes and luck may keep my liver intact for a long time and the ability to lead a more or less normal life for an aging man.
A handful over 200 miles separated home from Johns Hopkins. Paul Ruby and I both now wrestle with the various annoying maladies that grow more common with aging. Watching Paul stretch on his BMW had me asking myself when stretching wouldn't be enough for me. Precisely when would I know that I can't ride anymore? And would my willingness to stop arrive at the same time?
The kinds of questions that are perfect mind puzzles on a long ride through a quiet countryside and if not interrupted can turn gloomy.
No wonder why the National Military Park at Gettysburg seems eerie. Though I have to add that more than once I have wandered through the Devil's Den or along Little Roundtop along and sensed a restless energy among the rocks.
Paul and I paused only for a few moments along the road — all access to the park closed due to the shutdown of the federal government.
And then the first leg of the trip was over and I found myself sitting once again in the Arthritis Center filling out forms, submitting to some biometric tests, and going over the results of a series of blood tests I had done a couple weeks earlier.
Executive summary — I'll live to ride another day though admonished to take better care of diet and exercise lest other insidious metabolic tragedies rear their heads.
I want chocolate so bad right now while I'm typing that I can barely concentrate.
Camping outside Baltimore in Patapsco State Park. I needed to sleep on the ground again for some reason I think is related to convincing myself that I still have a few years of life in me. Or maybe it's just a cheap refusal to spend more money to sleep in a motel and worry about bedbugs.
The front rack on the Vespa was handy to carry a sleeping bag and tent and I was pleased I remembered how to put the think up.
It was a fine campsite.
The morning came quickly. Paul spent a few moments with a book while I took one last look with the camera before we began the ride home.
Breakfast, ice water for the road, and a few minutes of charge time for the iPhone as Paul and I reflected on our collective health or lack thereof. I can hear my father, "It's hell to get old boy.".
I understand the joke.
I've not ridden across the border from Maryland into Pennsylvania in the Appalachian Mountains. It's beautiful and left me wishing I could spend days rather than hours exploring.
That's a fine desire.
Two days and 440 miles of riding on backroads and byways at leisurely velocities. It's the perfect formula for the Vespa and I. I think Paul was comfortable as well and appreciated the chance to embrace slow travel.
A week has passed and autumn is in full bloom. The desire to ride is strong and the roads are calling.
I wonder how many rides are left...
25 comments:
Aging and motorcycling and when to give it all up seems to be a topic I'm seeing more often these days. Or perhaps I just notice it because I'm in my 60s now.
Best story from a friend who is 66 years old and just switched from a Honda VFR750 to a BMW K1200S. His wife, who is the same age as he, told him "You're too old to ride motorcycles, you're going to kill yourself!" His reply, which was rather pointed but still accurate was "Maybe I'm not as old as you are."
Some people feel old and act old sooner than others. I don't want to ride 700 miles a day anymore but I'm a long ways from hanging up my helmet. I think that's true of my friend, too.
And a final thought, an old saw I picked up somewhere "You stop riding because you get old, you get old because you stop riding."
HI Steve ,
just a quick one.....
a nice read and some lovely pics .....love the last one!
regards
Len
Steve
another saying is: "Getting old is not for the weak". You Sir, will be fine, as you are not weak.
Good to see you getting some use out of that front rack. I envy your proximity to the Gettysburg Battlefield, went there once and witnessed a Civil War Re-enactment of the historic battle. Very cool.
Forgot to mention, great Fall Colors pictures!
Beautiful photos, Steve!
If you managed to get through the day without much pain and complains, you'll be fine for many more years :)
Riding a Vespa refreshes body and mind, and you sir, are just a youngster, as it seems :D
I find this most unusual. I have been following this blog for quie a while now. Love the stories and the photos. But I have a question. You posted two photos without your Vespa in it. Is this going to happen again in the future? I hope not. I prefer the Vespa in the photos.
I come to this blog via a love of two wheels. Unlike most here, I don't ride motorbikes or scooters but rather ride bicycles. Like most here, I am also working, one day at a time, at getting older and understand quite well the sentiments of this blog post today. I don't heal as fast as I used to, am not as fast as I was, feel creaky more than I used to be, and assume that this trend will continue until I can no longer move.
However, when I find myself doing that, I remember this: http://wodumedia.com/pedal-power-bikes-around-the-world/100-year-old-cyclist-robert-marchand-of-france-gets-on-his-bike-to-set-a-world-record-for-cycling-non-stop-for-one-hour-at-the-union-cycliste-internationale-uci-velodrome-in-aigle/
Hopefully, the link works...
During my 35 years of career in Balto/DC, on countless weekends, I spent 8 hours riding over the mountains on two lane blacktop to visit home, Osceola Mills. On the Interstate I could do it in 3 1/2 hours, but it's about the journey, not the destination. Did you use routes 655, 997, 17, or 64?
Steve:
I am wrestling with this exact same problem but perhaps I should just blog about it.
I also have an undiagnosed problem which cannot be solved. I went for tests and they couldn't find anything but periodically I can't walk because of the pain so I just live with it. No medication, just wait and hope it goes away which takes weeks . . .
Also I am past retirement age but still working as I worry about being on a fixed income, which is not good in an expensive place such as Vancouver.
Thus my desire to make my long distance trips now and try to meet all of you. I missed so much in PA that I have to come back. Never did see an Amish Buggy, nor set foot inside of Saint's Cafe even though I struggled to get there on time but arrived a day too late.
A person never knows when it's time to stop riding but things beyond our control have influence beyond how we plan.
I like your Fall colours. We only have some yellowing here. The roads less traveled and proceeding at scenic speeds is the best way
Hope you aren't suffering too much, you looked normal to me
bob
Riding the Wet Coast
Hey Steve -
What was your route for this ride?
Mark
My partner and I rode our scooters around the North Island of New Zealand during (our) very late summer. It was pure joy tinged with the same sadness you felt. Our melancholic moods sparked by the approach of Autumn but, without a doubt, this was a joy filled trip. Scootling (travel by scooter, stopping often for photos) is tonic for life. I have followed your blog for some time and enjoy your writing and images.
I love the photos (even the ones without the Vespa). And the topic is a familiar one. I admire that you chose to camp out outside of Baltimore. I wouldn't have guessed that there would have been many open campgrounds this time of year.
Doug: I think you're right about why the aging topic is showing up more -- riders like us are getting older and we think about and notice ideas like that.
I've seen people get old because they stopped doing things. Not just riding. I hope to keep going and going....
Len: Thanks for the kind words about the pictures. Hard to take a bad picture on such a lovely route.
Charlie6 (Dom): Maybe I'm weak willed and dimwitted....
Gettysburg is an unusual place. I've been there many times for work and as a tourist. And almost every visit had some unnerving moments as a stood alone and thought about what happened there. Still can't get my head around how you get people to charge towards a hill bristling with cannon pieces firing grape shot and chains...
The front rack is great. Found another use for it tonight -- something to hold on to when getting out of my riding pants.
W: So far the pain, discomfort and degradation of the joints is kept at bay by Methotrexate.
Thank you for your kind words of support!
Anonymous: I actually posted five images without the Vespa. But fear not -- the Vespa will remain the dominant character here.
Chris Underwood: Thank you for the link to the picture of Robert Marchand, the 100 year old bicyclist. It's stories like that which keep me thinking the road ahead still has a ways to go.
As far as bicycles go -- I've spun my salmon colored (pink) Schwinn mountain bike up again and am going to start riding a bit to give my heart some work.
poppawheelie: Out of Baltimore took 550 to Pen Mar and picked up 997 at Waynesboro and then 641 to Shade Gap. Then 522, 22, 655, and then some little SR routes to McAley's Fort and on home. Really nice, gentle riding for the most part.
Different routes going to Baltimore.
bob skoot: I hesitated a bit before sharing about the medical stuff though not sure why. It's part of my life and informs what I do. I suspect there are a lot of riders facing changes that are unsettling so keeping them secret seems kind of pointless.
Sorry to hear you are struggling with the an undiagnosed problem. The medical world doesn't do well with that kind of issue. I recently read a story in the Atlantic (I think) about the growing number of complex issues that can't be diagnosed yet and people have to just try and manage symptoms.
Things were in such a rush when you were here otherwise we would have visited Saint's and found a buggy for you as well as taken you on some of the twisty roads.
Next time!
Mark Myers: The actual route was an eclectic collection of roads but I'll give you a general idea of the route down to Baltimore. Previous comment has something of the ride back:
State College to Lewistown on US 322. Cross over to other side of Juniata River and follow PA 333 to Mifflintown.
Then PA 74 south to Carlisle and PA 34 to Gettysburg.
South of Gettysburg we took PA 134 and whatever it turned into to Taneytown, MD.
Took MD 140 to Reistertown, got on I795 to Security Blvd exit and then US 40 to Johns Hopkins. Very hot day and my ambient temp indicator showed 105F. Vespa fans working overtime in city traffic. We should have taken the beltway around the city which we did on the way back. Harbor tunnel is cool on a scooter!
Anonymous: New Zealand must be a stunning landscape to ride through.
I suspect a lot of people get that melancholy feeling in Autumn. I bet it is programmed into us from tens of thousands of years ago and telling us, "Winter's coming bud -- better get ready."
Scooting is the tonic of life... I like that. Thanks!
RichardM: The campground was full by the end of the evening. I guess it's still warm enough in Maryland to camp.
I'm ready for another trip!
The first fifty years are easy; the next fifty rarely does anybody escape alive without complications.
At age 60 was diagnosed with renal cell carcinoma,and Lupus. Surgery, follwed by three years of intensive
chemo destroyed my sense of balance as well as other senses. The 30 year old Gold Wing was sold; my balance was gone as well as a desire to ride my motorcycle.
Here in Southern Ontario it is too dangerous to ride a two-wheeled machine, and it takes seemingly forever to reach a forested area suitable for tours similar to yours.
to enjoy riding.
We age and as we do the unknowns loom larger. There is a subtle switch from living one day at a time if we've been lucky enough to discover the importance of that, to living each day knowing there are fewer really good days left, days without qualifiers.
My Dad, now 85 just began riding a bicycle again. Wonderful, yes? The back story is he can't walk long distances anymore because a joint on one of his feet is worn out. Oh, and he needs to exercise to control his adult onset diabetes, and . . . and . . . it goes on.
And so does he. And so do I and so will you. Until . . . we can't. I do admit hoping I will have the grace and determination of my father while doing so.
Love the colors. Not so much here in Missouri yet. Maybe everything will just go brown this year. We'll see.
Yes, we'll see.
~k
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