Author Topic: If a Vespa can why can't I?  (Read 12026 times)

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Professor

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Reply #15 on: June 08, 2015, 07:05:48 am
Made it to Wyoming, Wind River mountains. Cold in the evening. Cold in the morning. Best riding is midday. I met a guy with a heavy beard, nasty cycling shorts and a bicycle so loaded with equipment it appeared to be standing still as he pedaled. We stopped to talk at a gas stop. He is traveling south to Mexico. Never told me why. Over a coffee he asked me what at the time seemed a weird question, then on reflection it was not so weird. He asked: "are you critiquing life or living life?" I think he meant are you sitting on the sideline commenting and watching or are you fully engaged living it? I told him "I hoped I was living it."

Does it matter which muffler, air cleaner, light setup, oil brand or hand grips I have in or on the RE. Yes, to some extent it does. It is after all mechanical in nature. But in the long run, once it is sorted, fits you out and running well, stop talking about it and ride it. Stop comparing it to your neighbor's bike.  You must ride the darn thing and then you ride it some more. And when you do for days on end, you will discover that it has a soul and a personality. Some things it loves to do and will do them well, other things are asking too much. And it tells you so. And will protest. The RE won't be hurried. It has a pace at which it is most happy and if you allow it to run there it will reward you with a magical experience of flying close to the earth, with nothing but the wind. Everything else disappears. There is a soft mechanical presence that says, "I'm here and here is where I am most happy and I can take you anywhere." Ask it to do more and it will loudly protest by bellowing, shuddering and thrashing around. Telling you, "I 'll do this, but I won't do it forever. Enough." Let it tell you where it is most content and in that zen moment you and the RE are one. This is what long, long rides create, a unity of bike and rider. Two interconnected souls. I feed the machine and care for it, it does the same for me. Think I'm loosing it? Talk to Indian owners about their REs.  Darn right the Indians get it. They let the beast speak to them. They talk about the souls of their REs. But, you won't find it on 50 mile ride once a week. You have to get out on the open road, let go of your fears,  and let it unwind as it was meant to. And it will teach you thing or two about travel. It will teach you that essential thesis of travel. It is not the destination that matters, but the trip. The times you were in that bubble of full fluid motion is what you will remember. Not where you were going.  That heady feeling of freedom, not to be earth bound as my poor friend on his over loaded bicycle grinding out every foot of forward motion. (And yes I do ride bicycles, just not with 120 lbs of gear.)

The back roads are where the RE is at home. At 50 MPH I traveled for hours on twisting mountain roads never feeling that I was missing anything or late for anything or going anywhere. I was simply in the moment. Nothing else mattered. A few burst of 60-65 mph got me through places of lesser interest. Just enough. No need to go faster. On occasion the few farm tractors who shared the back roads, and side roads and who surely own them in this part of the world, made me glad that the RE was happy just where it was. Fast enough.  No tractor kissing today!  I love the RE not for what it is as much as for what it is not. It is not overly complex, heavy, nor complicated. It is sturdy and ask not much more of you than to be respected and ridden. It has no pretensions, images to maintain or posing required. It is an elemental motorcycle. It does not say, I'm a (wanna be) bad ass, I'm super fast, I'm wealthy or I'm on a trip around the world (probably not) or anything else. It says simply saying; I'm riding. What else matters in a world of pretensions and bad reality TV. I make no apologies for my RE. Damn right I rode it here and it's a damn good bike. 
« Last Edit: June 08, 2015, 07:47:19 am by Professor »


Grant Borden

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Reply #16 on: June 08, 2015, 01:26:32 pm
Professor,

Great write-up and reporting of your ride. You are a very fine Moto Journalist.

Grant
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mattsz

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Reply #17 on: June 08, 2015, 05:26:27 pm
I agree - keep it coming, Professor!!


Professor

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Reply #18 on: June 08, 2015, 05:31:08 pm
Today is bright and cold in the AM. But the wind is an issue. Tail winds are a rare delight, but the darn cross winds ripping the plains are just nasty. Keeps you on your game. At breakfast I met two, of all things, scooter riders from St Petersburg, Florida.  One was on a Piaggio BV 350 and his companion a Vespa GTS 300 ie.  They are on their way to Vancouver AND return. Hardcore these two. Both had read the Vespa Vagabond among many others who are long scooter distance riders (bloggers) and were inspired to ride.  Today I have company. The RE will have someone else to talk to. About time.


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Reply #19 on: June 08, 2015, 08:01:57 pm
nice! preach professor preach! :D enfield truths. we nickname you preacher soon. all truth, amen to words you said. i agree heart fully. when i ride the longer rides - it takes me a day or two to adjust. it takes one to 'leave' the schedule behind. you feel 'you must' get somewhere, because you planned it. it takes one to start to realize - you ride to everywhere and nowhere and the only 'sure' thing is kind of the direction. when is random. where is often random. and when i sit on the bike sometimes, and get little angry or annoyed - 'why am i still not there', i realize - I AM there! i'm EXACTLY where i want to be. i'm ON the bike. riding. that moment, that seat i sit on IS the wish come true. that is the goal. the destination is really just a break from the only thing i wanted to do - to ride. i so agree with the 50 miles commute. you cannot get it. too short. maybe 200 miles are not enough. maybe 2 days minimum, that's when the road starts to let you glimpse what that bike has to offer. the soul :) i'm packing as we speak, don't know where to go tho. south? west? i'm keeping north for august/sept. i'm thinking to maybe try the lincoln highway for 2-3 days just to get the feel of it. then turn south for 2-3 days and go back up for 2-3 days. got me small tent, will pack light, take camera, 2 lenses, gopro, few socks, few tshirts and done. im done with the big packing.
have fun with the scooter guys. i always wished to find a buddy going same way as me and connect for few miles, or hours. but that never happened. like if the road wants me to ride alone. and think
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Professor

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Reply #20 on: June 08, 2015, 08:05:32 pm
I am inspired!!! I see the light!!! Thank you. This is one great day!!


mattsz

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Reply #21 on: June 09, 2015, 01:08:41 am
I've never ridden to a destination further than one day's ride away - an all-day-ride, yes, with scenic and enjoyable stops along the way, but I always reached my destination on the same day.  The whole ride out was enjoyable and had an air of excitement about it, heading forward somewhere.  The ride back home, from start to finish, was always tinged with a touch of disappointment - the same long ride, perhaps, but always returning to work and routine.

Clearly, it's a state of mind I have to work on...

Please keep 'em coming, Prof...


Professor

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Reply #22 on: June 10, 2015, 10:23:17 pm
Life is a bank account. There is a fixed sum. You can never put more into it. It can be closed at any time with out your permission. Each day you take out a small amount of cash. And then you buy a ticket. Will you buy a ticket to watch and critique? Or will you buy a ticket to play?  Today and every day this week I bought a ticket to play. I am in the game. 

This is big country. The sky dominates everything. It is endless from the top of the peaks we stand on to the curvature of the earth on the far horizon. And despite the few ranches that dot the sparse landscape, it is silent and quite empty. Devoid of any human sound. The wind blows constantly.   Always rushing unimpeded across the stark plains. Brown, tan and pale green are the pallet. Only in the higher mountains are the deeper greens found. Here and there are narrow ribbons of green as a small stream meander across the brown grass plains. Cell phones are useless. Ranches seem to all have some kind of dish. It matters little. In winter I wonder what it must be like to have a blizzard drop deep snow and then be locked into your ranch house for weeks on end. I wonder how relationships fare out here. We are quite alone here.

I am in the company of Tom and Art. Tom is a retired Coast Guard Petty Officer from St Petersburg Florida. Art also from St Pete is a marine biologist and Navy reservist. He is by profession is a diver. They met in Iraq. Both decided to see Europe after the horrid nightmare of duty in Iraq and bought scooters. They spent three months touring Europe and the Balkans. So, they know a thing or two about riding.  Tom rides a Vespa GTS 300 ie, Art has a Piaggio BV 350. Both are state of the art designs. Single cylinder SOHC, liquid cooled, multi valve heads (more than two),counterbalanced, EFI  and rock solid reliable. Cycle World commented of the BV as one of the most innovative and capable power plants assigned to motivate two wheels. I believe it. The GTS is almost a mirror of RE in terms of power delivery ie; torque and horsepower . The BV not so. It has 35 HP and will rip to 100mph, accelerate with smaller bikes and cruise all day at 75mph. Both are immensely popular in Europe. The BV being the second "car" in many households. Both can do long distances with ease. I noticed both riders were using Air Hawk seat covers. And both carry spare fuel in red plastic fuel cans. I have neither. But the Air Hawk looks enticing.

Toms tires have a fine chicken strip. Art's BV has no such thing they are shredded all the way to the edge. I mean litterly shredded, little worms of rubber on the tire shredded.  The more we are together the more I understand why . Highly skilled as a rider he has no fear I can discern. Tom is quite the opposite. He rides the GTS very capably, but clearly maintains a margin. Needless to say Art is well ahead of us most of the time. I never ever thought a scooter could maintain those lean angles. And he is flat footed on the floor boards......amazing!

When we started they asked me at Breakfast, where are you headed? I told then to Canada. Which route? Now this is where I depart from the mass. I told both, "I have no route, I just ride. But the route I take will be most likely the longest. It will be full of turns and elevation, and most of all be the most scenic. I am in no rush". They looked at each other and smiled. Art said, "I think we will take that way too."  I also mentioned, "ride as fast or as slow as you please, I plan to ride my own ride".  Another smile as Tom responded "good for us. Art is always doing his own thing anyway."

It has been two days now and we have established a bond. We have swapped bikes and each had a turn at the others. Art told me that RE felt flying a WWI Biplane. RE heard it and was most pleased. Visions of the Red Baron (Manfred Von Richtoffen) I think he wants me to don a silk scarf. RE sees himself as quite dashing and dapper. British genes.
We roll across the dips, valleys and peaks with RE making our presence known. The scooters are virtually silent. Riding one is eerie, so very, very light, no vibration.........just wind. Roads are near empty.

Motorcycling is uniquely personal and private. Locked in your helmet on your bike and secured form any one else you must at some point decide if you do indeed like yourself. You are talking to yourself enough. Do you enjoy the company? I don't use blue tooth and besides,  out here it does not work. Music, sometimes, but it mask the REs lovely mechanical presence. No, inside the helmet I dream, ponder, build, execute, tear down, rebuild, solve, resolve and some times pray.
I renew the acquaintance of the person I hope knows me the best and is most willing to get me through the tough times and celebrate the victories, when no one else is willing nor cares. I treasure the time we spend together.

I asked Tom when you meet people what do they ask you? For me it is what year is your RE? Enough!!! Tom said, basically it is "aren't you afraid that those things (scooters) wont make it to wherever? I was trained to rescue people at sea under the absolutely worst possible conditions. I know the value of preparation. My equipment is in top shape. Art's BV is as well. He's a diver after all. We prep for the trips.  But underneath it people are afraid to get out of their bubble."

Read the Vespa forum, there are many, many  trip reports. Some amazing rides. Not so on the RE Forum. RE riders I think fear their bikes. This fear creates anxiety. They talk about a 100 mile ride as though it were an epic evident fraught with danger.  Will it break, will I be stranded? One owner even suggested taking the bike apart and re-welding the welds. What???? When I talked to the Indians they had no such concerns. They save for years to buy one and then ride the darn things every where. It is considered a premium brand in India. It is their vacation vehicle and often sole source of transport. Certainly they buy other brands as well. But all are justly proud RE is a home product. In US special warfare students are taught fear is healthy and keeps us alive. But anxiety, the fear of fear paralyzes us. You can push through fear, not anxiety. So, you get to the root of the fear. What happens if it breaks. Well the world does not end and you don't die. You prepare for the root fear. In a nutshell ride a well maintained bike, prepare for those events you can manage and have an escape(AAA Premium Card) for those you cant. We need not fear RE bikes. No one else does.

We were coming out of the mountains down a moderate grade. At the bottom is a steep sharp left hand turn, and it actually gets steeper as you ride into it. Not the place to enter with a lot of speed. Unless of course you know the road. We do not.  Just past mid point is silver HD Fat Boy on it's side against the guard rail, with camping gear strung behind the bike. The rider is limping over to pick up his gear, while his passenger is pacing I assume attempting to place a phone call. The cell is jammed into her ear. Both seem to be OK. The gouge marks in the road tells the story. The Fat boy was leaned over so far it grounded and lifted the rear wheel of the ground. The bike slid into the guard rail, dumped both rider and passenger and continued with enough impact to shatter the primary cover, dumping it's oil. No amount of counter steering would have save it.  We lift our face shields and ease by as a pick up has stopped to help and has waved us on. RE made a comment to the GTS something like, "fat boys can't turn."  RE what did you say? The GTS just giggled. I looked at Tom, he just shrugged as if to say , "what are you going to do with these two?" RE has never been one to be politically correct. He told a German at the last gas stop to loose some weight.

On to Jackson and oil and filter changes and a bit of sorting. I will miss the scooters once we part. RE keeps saying, Bella Moto! I think he likes the GT. The BV is always out front and pays little attention to him.
« Last Edit: June 10, 2015, 11:53:04 pm by Professor »


singhg5

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Reply #23 on: June 10, 2015, 10:36:47 pm
Made it to Wyoming, Wind River mountains. Cold in the evening. Cold in the morning. Best riding is midday. I met a guy with a heavy beard, nasty cycling shorts and a bicycle so loaded with equipment it appeared to be standing still as he pedaled. We stopped to talk at a gas stop. He is traveling south to Mexico. Never told me why. Over a coffee he asked me what at the time seemed a weird question, then on reflection it was not so weird. He asked: "are you critiquing life or living life?" I think he meant are you sitting on the sideline commenting and watching or are you fully engaged living it? I told him "I hoped I was living it."

Does it matter which muffler, air cleaner, light setup, oil brand or hand grips I have in or on the RE. Yes, to some extent it does. It is after all mechanical in nature. But in the long run, once it is sorted, fits you out and running well, stop talking about it and ride it. Stop comparing it to your neighbor's bike.  You must ride the darn thing and then you ride it some more. And when you do for days on end, you will discover that it has a soul and a personality. Some things it loves to do and will do them well, other things are asking too much. And it tells you so. And will protest. The RE won't be hurried. It has a pace at which it is most happy and if you allow it to run there it will reward you with a magical experience of flying close to the earth, with nothing but the wind. Everything else disappears. There is a soft mechanical presence that says, "I'm here and here is where I am most happy and I can take you anywhere." Ask it to do more and it will loudly protest by bellowing, shuddering and thrashing around. Telling you, "I 'll do this, but I won't do it forever. Enough." Let it tell you where it is most content and in that zen moment you and the RE are one. This is what long, long rides create, a unity of bike and rider. Two interconnected souls. I feed the machine and care for it, it does the same for me. Think I'm loosing it? Talk to Indian owners about their REs.  Darn right the Indians get it. They let the beast speak to them. They talk about the souls of their REs. But, you won't find it on 50 mile ride once a week. You have to get out on the open road, let go of your fears,  and let it unwind as it was meant to. And it will teach you thing or two about travel. It will teach you that essential thesis of travel. It is not the destination that matters, but the trip. The times you were in that bubble of full fluid motion is what you will remember. Not where you were going.  That heady feeling of freedom, not to be earth bound as my poor friend on his over loaded bicycle grinding out every foot of forward motion. (And yes I do ride bicycles, just not with 120 lbs of gear.)

The back roads are where the RE is at home. At 50 MPH I traveled for hours on twisting mountain roads never feeling that I was missing anything or late for anything or going anywhere. I was simply in the moment. Nothing else mattered. A few burst of 60-65 mph got me through places of lesser interest. Just enough. No need to go faster. On occasion the few farm tractors who shared the back roads, and side roads and who surely own them in this part of the world, made me glad that the RE was happy just where it was. Fast enough.  No tractor kissing today!  I love the RE not for what it is as much as for what it is not. It is not overly complex, heavy, nor complicated. It is sturdy and ask not much more of you than to be respected and ridden. It has no pretensions, images to maintain or posing required. It is an elemental motorcycle. It does not say, I'm a (wanna be) bad ass, I'm super fast, I'm wealthy or I'm on a trip around the world (probably not) or anything else. It says simply saying; I'm riding. What else matters in a world of pretensions and bad reality TV. I make no apologies for my RE. Damn right I rode it here and it's a damn good bike.

+1 Great write up. More of us are reading your write up and enjoying your trip :).
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Professor

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Reply #24 on: June 11, 2015, 05:09:29 am
Rain, cold and wind. Horrid combination on a naked bike. We were caught out in the open highway when it hit. I put the rain suit on in a 20 mph wind. The scooters fared pretty well as they have some protection. RE simply plunges forward buck naked and unafraid. We rode for two hours before it final abated. By then it was late and any place dry was a great place to be. And so we are.  The good part is that the highway was near empty with little traffic. The surface while wet was never slippery. The Avon tires were just fine at the speed I was running. Tomorrow is supposed to be dry. Wiping the face shield was tiring. You end up almost riding by feel. And no matter how well designed the rain suits are, water always get in somehow.  The Sidi boots worked perfect.

Before I left I was in the gym three days a week for several months. It has made a difference. Riding an naked bike even at the lower speeds RE likes requires some stamina after a few days. I am hoping every thing electrical is still dry by morning. We parked them in a covered area......but????


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Reply #25 on: June 11, 2015, 10:40:54 am
I am hoping every thing electrical is still dry by morning. We parked them in a covered area......but????

Sending dry humor your way, Professor...


Professor

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Reply #26 on: June 11, 2015, 07:06:46 pm
Sunny and warm. The rain literally soaked every thing in term of clothing we were wearing after two hours. I put liners in the leather saddle bags and they worked to perfection. Nice and dry. We are now dry and on our way to Jackson and beyond. I adjusted the chain and lubed it well. At altitude it is not quite summer. In the flats warm and really nice. RE was not quite his usual sunny self when I came out. He started up and sputtered a bit for about five minutes. I told him that a bath and a wax, as well a full sorting would be waiting in Jackson and he settled in to his mile eating lope. And he will indeed get it. I refuse to ride dirty motorcycle. It is not a patina of use and miles. To me simple neglect. Honor the bike, it honors you. This is my lifeline to the world I left behind and I will attend to it. RE does not ask for much.  I notice both Tom and Art check everything quickly in the AM as well. A pre-flight of sorts.The hours and hours I spent sorting before I left the bike have paid off. However, I wish I had thought of a small can of compressed air to give the switches a good burst after the rain. Clear skies, warm sun, empty roads and a well sorted single cylinder machine.......is this heaven?????

I once again listen to the easy lope of the engine as RE settles into his gait. He is indeed a happy fellow. He is truly in his element.


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Reply #27 on: June 12, 2015, 03:16:05 am
The adventure has a few more days. Some of the best riding in north America is yet to come. Yellowstone, Glacier Park and the Canadian parks are on the horizon. In the east you feel claustrophobic, with the terrain closing in on you. Out here you get lost. You feel so very small. We feel like ants crawling on a beach ball the size of Vermont. 50, 70, 100mph or more, there is no sensation of speed. One thing is for dead certain you won't walk anywhere, or any time soon. Remote with a capital "R".  The highway rolls beneath you, yet the horizon never gets closer. There is no reference point for speed.  Tomorrow is a busy day. Tom and Art will sight see. I will cater to RE. The scooters are on 6000mi oil change schedules. RE is on 2000mi.  So far, RE has used no oil at all, nor leaked any. Very tidy chap. I am making a list of things RE will get once home. Chain, sprockets, steel front brake line, tires, new fork oil and a new swing arm bushing so far. Pretty good for the trips he has taken.


Professor

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Reply #28 on: June 12, 2015, 05:40:53 pm
Read All the Gear No Idea by Michele Harrison. Amazon Kindle edition is dirt cheap. (There a many Enfield adventure books.)  If you think your Enfield is not for riding. And her 500 is not even a UCE. Touring in the US is so easy. Good to great places to eat, clean places to stay, repair shops, hardware stores, wholesome food, clean water, good roads, great scenery, no routine terrorism, laundry facilities, common language, tow trucks, decent health care and honest law enforcement (for the most part). What are you waiting for?


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Reply #29 on: June 13, 2015, 08:02:03 pm
Re has been washed, waxed (Original Bike Spirits spray on wax) and sits glowing. Chain lubed, rear brake adjusted, clutch adjusted, oil and filter changed, all nut and bolts checked, wiring checked, tires checked, new spark plug, switches opened and checked for moisture. Nothing out of place. RE sounds like the new bike he is. 

There are two west. One old the other new. Taos NM is the old. A ski town that is still old west. Ride your horse into town, tie up and have dinner, ride home. No pretentions. No plastic, not too much glamour. A bit threadbare. Two ways into town from Santa Fe the home of 5000 art galleries. Santa Fe is the third largest art market in the world behind New York and Los Angles. Impressive for such a small town. On to Taos. The direct and somewhat scenic low road and the ultra scenic motorcycle magnum high road. Takes longer as it ambles through small villages and National Forest, but it is so worth it. Do it!! A major event. No major chain stores to speak of.

Then you have Breckenridge, Copper Mountain, Aspen, Steamboat Springs and others of the ilk, that are to me god awful. Pretentious, plastic and very expensive. In ski season the local air port is wall to wall with private jets.The locals wanted the money, now they can't afford to live there. Billion dollar restate deals. If you can get there with ease I won't go. The west I seek is the old west, what there is of it now. Back roads well way from tourist destinations. State routes, the blue lines on the map. I'm in the same frame of mind as William Least Heat Moon. His class Blue Highways is still on my book shelf. Given me the remote, curvy mountain state and local routes. I've been know to ride county roads as well. I am asked, what route did you take? I say don't know. (Don't care) I only pay attention to direction, not route. The small towns with mom and pop stores and cafes, the single gas pumps at country stores suits me perfectly. I could have ridden from Santa Fe to Canada in three days on near any bike other than RE. Taken a direct route and been there. I've been riding over a week and am still not there. Would I do it any other way? NEVER!! The little burgs are just dots that connect the endless two lanes I cherish. I am here to RIDE, not travel, not rush, not "get there". I've been exposed to people and sights the traveler will never experience. In the farming and ranching areas I smell life being lived. New cut hay is ambrosia. The joy is building your own ride.
On to Yellowstone Park. This caldera sits on a magma chamber five times the size of the Grand Canyon. It literally is a volcano. Geologist say it is bulging or rising as local lakes are tilting as the chamber expands. 60,000 years ago it dumped three feet of ash over all of the mid continent,  the plains states of today. A LTE for certain. Apothos (rouge asteroid), EMP, Gram Positive untreatable bacteria (rates double yearly in the US), middle east unrest and all of the other uncertainties of cosmic dimension in life make RE getting ill seem like ever so insignificant.  There is enough of it to create terminal anxiety and paranoia. RE stalling is not an LTE. The stories I've read of the extended trips in India make this look like a Sunday outing. So thankful for thankful for the UCE!