Foggy morning

I love fog.

I love riding.

You'd think riding to work on a foggy morning would be a treat.

Well, yes, and no.

The problem is my visor. The heavier the fog, the harder it is to see because the mist covers my visor. Lifting the visor doesn't help because then my glasses get covered.  Riding without my glasses would be better, but not smart, or safe.  Contact lenses would probably do the trick.

It's a shame, because I love fog.  And I love riding.

Yesterday's fog was on the light side. A compromise fog, if you will.  Not quite heavy enough to delightfully transform the landscape, but not enough to make riding and seeing particularly difficult.

Looking for a decent photo on the grounds at Stewart Hall, I found a scene I had shared here in the past...

... and an unexpected one...

I also love totem poles.  Normally you have to be on the left coast to see them.  There was no time to learn about these.  There is an explanation on the city's web site.  The information looks like ephemera, so I preserved it here.

Overkill

Another exhaust collar or joint gasket or whatever the heck the thing is called blew out on my GTS. If the GTS has an Achilles heel, that's definitely it.

My dealership rocks however so when I called to report the problem they slotted me right in.

Spending a couple of midday hours at Alex Berthiaume et Fils is never a hardship.

I took a conference call with my staff and our lawyer in Spain, caught up on some e-mail, had a chat or two with Paul the sales and leasing director, chatted with the mechanics, indeared myself to the parts department manager's dog Toz, sat on a few bikes, offered encouraging words to a prospective buyer looking at a Piaggio BV350 (a steal I think at $5,900), a gold Vespa GTV 300, and a Honda Forza 300, and checked out a few helmets.

All this run-of-the-mill stuff was punctuated when the flatbed pulled up at the front door. Judging from the buzz, I'd say this was the high point of the day. I always kind of wondered how a Vespa (or any bike really) would fare on a flatbed tow truck. Would the operator know how to secure a two-wheeler properly? How tricky is it to load or unload?

These are questions I now know the answers to: 'yes, and no', and 'not at all' are the short answers.

First off, no, the Vespa LXV 150 showed no signs of damage, definitely mechanical ailments then.

The tow truck operator got a few key things right, and one thing very wrong.

Praise before blame:

• the bike is not on the stand (check!). That's good because it allows the suspension to do its job during the tow, and avoids damage to the stand, the bike, and the trailer bed.
• the front wheel is secured to a chock (check!). That means the bike can't slip sideways and break loose.

So what was done wrong?

Look at the fore and aft angle of the bike. It's really not level. Why is that? Because the tow truck driver way, way, way, way over-compressed the front suspension. The front wheel is completely compressed right to the end of the suspension's travel, and then some. So much force was applied that the handle bars could have bent. The straps were as taught as highwires. The Great Wallenda would have approved!

The key to tying down the front end of any bike properly is:

• make sure the bike is securely vertical;
• make sure the front suspension is only lightly compressed. The same thing goes for the rear suspension.

You see the bike's suspension has to be able to work while the bike is in transit on the trailer or flatbed.

This operator therefore gets a 'F' on a towing pass-fail test. A 'C' at best, likely a 'D' as a letter grade. Nor so good.

And just like that my exhaust gasket is good as new (well in fact brand new) and it's time to high tail it back to the office.

So long, and happy trails!

Rider profile: Tom Keene

Name: Tom Keene
Find me on Earth: Westbrook, Maine, USA
Find me Online: http://scooterbythesea.blogspot.com
Interview Date: Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Interview Location: In my home, on my iPad

Scootcommute: When did you start riding, how old were you?

Tom:  I watched a friend in his 70s riding around town on a bright red Honda Reflex 250, and noted how happy this grizzled old man was. "I must do that," I thought, and bought a scooter for myself; I was 61 years old.

Scootcommute: How many motorbikes have you owned?

Tom:  Two

Scootcommute: What is your current bike, and is the current bike your favorite?

Tom:  After riding a Yamaha C3 50cc scooter for a few months, I decided that I needed, to be safe, to get a bigger ride. That turned out to be a Vespa 250 GTS, which is without question my favorite bike.

Scootcommute: Talk to me about the most challenging riding skill you learned.

Tom:  It has been a struggle to become ultra aware of my surroundings on the road. Before my riding life began, I drove big cars; Cadillacs, Olds, Buicks were my usual rides. And in the silence of a fine automobile, the world is essentially a minor object. Frankly, I felt safe and secure in my well-engineered cage.

But on two wheels, the world is a dangerous, aggressive place to be. I have had to understand that people on two wheels are not partners of the road. We are targets. That is a continuing challenge.

Scootcommute: Are you a moto-commuter, a tourer, or a fair weather rider?

Tom:  Mainly a tourer. I have no regular job to commute to. I am the opposite of a fair weather rider; I ride 12 months a year, in any temperature. I draw the line on riding in snow, which is a constant companion from November through March.

Scootcommute: Are you a solitary rider? How about riding in a group?

Tom:  Mainly I ride alone by preference. I do ride at least once a week with Mike (Torrusio) of Scooter for Fun.

The largest group in which I have ridden was seven, which was enjoyable, but isn't my cup of tea.

Scootcommute: I dare you to share an awkward or embarrassing riding moment.

Tom:  Last winter, I grossly misjudged the solidity of the sand at Old Orchard Beach, and I buried my Vespa up to the hubs in the world-famous fine sand of The Beach.

When he stopped laughing hysterically - which was a very long time - Mike help me extract the humiliated scooter and rider. On stopping for coffee, Mike was in tattle-tale heaven as he told the tale repeatedly to every customer who entered the busy shop.

Scootcommute: What is the best place your bike has taken you?

Tom:  Almost every ride has taken me to a place in Maine that is scenic, relaxing, and each is the best place I've been.

Scootcommute: Tell me why you ride.

Tom:  Riding is a liberating method of travel, making a simple trip to the store highly enjoyable. Riding makes me smile. And if I had any hair left, I think I would love the feeling of the wind in my hair.

Scootcommute: If I could grant you one riding wish, what would it be?

Ride the Great Wall of China.

_____________________________

You can find other rider profiles on the Rider Profiles page

So long!

Parting is indeed sweet sorrow.

My very close friend Marc is a guy who just gets stuff done.  He said he could sell my Vespa LX 150 in the space of a morning if I would just let him do it his way.

I should have known better, but I can be stubborn.  I had ads on Kijiji, and Lespac, and Craigslist, and I got the odd feeler, but no sale.  With the summer in its August phase, the prime sales time is long gone.

Marc just took matters into his own hands, and bullied me into submission.  He insisted that I e-mail him a description of the scooter.  Fine, I sent him the Kijiji ad.  Then he ordered me to park the scooter at the end of a neighbor's driveway.  Reluctantly, I did.  I was certain it would be stolen long before it was sold.

An hour and a half later, Marc rings my doorbell with a gentleman in tow.  "Here's the guy who is going to buy your Vespa!".  And sure enough, he was right.

I owe Marc a really decent treat for making the sale happen, in spite of my pig-headed reluctance.

Rider Profile: Mike Torrusio

Name: Mike Torrusio
Find me on Earth: Portland, Maine, USA
Find me Online: http://scooterthefun.blogspot.com
Interview Date: Saturday, July 20, 2013
Interview Location: Portland, Maine, USA

Scootcommute: When did you start riding, how old were you?

Mike: Just about four and one half years ago. Mid 70's

Scootcommute: How many motorbikes have you owned?

Mike: 4

Scootcommute: What is your current bike, and is the current bike your favorite?

Mike: It's a Piaggio BV 250. Absolutely. Does everything one could want.

Scootcommute: Talk to me about the most challenging riding skill you learned.

Mike: Doing U-turns on a narrow street with a passenger on bord.  Not sure I've mastered it, but I manage to pull it off.

Scootcommute: Are you a moto-commuter, a tourer, or a fair weather rider?

Mike: It's my only mode of transportation. Have you seen my Youtube video of riding in the snow?

Scootcommute: Are you a solitary rider? How about riding in a group?

Mike: I do much riding alone. I Prefer one, or two others. If in a group I always make sure I'm last.

Scootcommute: I dare you to share an awkward or embarassing riding moment.

Mike: Impossible. Every ride produces an awkward moment. However, the evening my two friends and I stopped for a dinner, and I dismounted, kickstand down, and while removing my helmet, my friends standing next to me, my machine s-l-o-w-l-y tipped over into me and the two of us s-l-o-w-l-y settled to the pavement. Great fun. None of us can yet figure out what and how it happened.

Scootcommute: What is the best place your bike has taken you?

Mike: In Maine? There is NO bad place. Within 10 minutes you're surrounded with beauty - or at the least an interesting sight.

Scootcommute: Tell me why you ride.

Mike: Beats the hell out of me. Best I can do is that two minutes into any ride a sense of contentment, joy and excitement settle into my being and stays there for the ride and quite a while afterwards.

Scootcommute: If I could grant you one riding wish, what would it be?

Mike: That I get at least 10 more riding years. There's miles to go and promises to keep.

_____________________________

You can find other rider profiles on the Rider Profiles page

2013 Blogger to Blogger Tour - Montreal leg, part two

What more might possibly be left over to show Bob during his too brief stopover?

Well, there is the city you can tour on two wheels, and the portion that can only be toured on two feet.

After sleeping in and simultaneously treating Susan to a surprise visit by our eldest son, his girlfriend Vicky, and our daughter Lauren, we devoted the day to man-tasks in the garage and driveway.

Cars and Vespa were washed, and Bob prepped his BMW R1200R for the ride west to Vancouver.   I offered to wash Bob's bike, but I think he liked the look of the road grime.  It fit in well with the ADV stickers on the side cases.  When he wasn't looking I wiped the side cases clean.

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

Evening plans and dinner plans were discussed. Vicky and Susan (Lauren had a party to attend) wanted to see a movie. Bob demurred. Jonathan had little choice and had to throw his lot in with the girls. Bob's choice meant I was released from movie duty (I had already seen what was running in the theaters and there appeared to be no overlap between the very small list that interested me, and the girls' list).

We unanimously decided that dinner could wait until after the show, and after whatever Bob and I would be doing.

The five of us piled into the car and headed downtown, where Bob and I dropped the movie-goers off. We parked the car in the underground parking lot at Place Montreal Trust and set off on foot.

No visit to Montreal is complete without a visit to the underground city. Since it was Saturday evening, some portions of the underground were closed off, but there there was enough that remained open to give Bob a good understanding of the scope and scale of the underground that has been growing and growing since the underground city began in the early sixties centered around Place Ville Marie and Central Station.

We walked indoors from Place Montreal Trust to Place Ville Marie as I tried to explain to Bob just how vast the network of malls and passageways had become. After emerging at Place Ville Marie, we backtracked north on the surface to Ste-Catherine Street, the age-old shopping district. Bob was very impressed with the flagship Birks' store and took a photograph of the massive forbidding doors.

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

We continued east along Ste-Catherine Street to the relatively new Quartier des Spectacles (the entertainment district). The nucleus remains Montreal's symphony hall, Place des Arts, but it has grown to become much more, in large measure spurred on by the huge outdoor venues for the Montreal Jazz Festival.

The Quartier des Spectacles is now a vast pedestrian mall, with outdoor theatrical lighting, acres of outdoor space, the opera house, the museum of contemporary art, smaller theaters, restaurants, and fountains.

Bob determined parts of the entertainment district to be photo worthy.

Some of the fountains are of the leap-out-of-the-ground-uplit-programmable variety and we just couldn't resist getting our feet wet.

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

When we got to St-Urbain Street we headed south to Chinatown, and on the way, Bob photographed the most recent Montreal phenomenon, the BiXi public bike system, with yours truly as the bicycle model.

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

Montreal's Chinatown is no rival to those in San Francisco or Vancouver. It is however a significant presence on the Main, spanning two large blocks in the north-south axis and five blocks east to west. The topic of exotic fruits had come up during lunch and Bob had mentioned cherimoya. He popped into a fruit and vegetable store hoping to find some. The cashier knew what he was after but said he she didn't have any, and couldn't say where they could be found.

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

Before leaving, Bob snapped a great photo of the southern gate.

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

We re-entered the underground city at the convention centre, its south-eastern limit, and headed west back in the direction of the Ste-Catherine street shopping district. I wanted to show Bob the atrium in the World Trade Center. In addition to a very large black granite fountain, the atrium is home to a rather unusual display.

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

A section of der Mauer (the Berlin wall), a gift from the city of Berlin to the city of Montreal in 1992.

A long walk later, having gone from the Palais des Congrès, to the World Trade Centre, to the International Civil Aviation Organization, to Place Bonaventure, to Central Station and back to Place Ville Marie, we ended up basically back where we started from, having done a rather large loop.  By rather large, I mean miles, and miles.

To be honest, I was a little concerned that I had committed Bob's feet, and his pink crocs, to a much longer walking tour than he had bargained for.  I don't think any harm was done.  Besides, how else to prepare for a late, late, late, dinner?

Now that we were once more above ground, it became somewhat clearer what was happening on McGill College Avenue that had pre-empted my parking and strolling plans on Friday.  It was some kind of weekend-long fashion event.  The pulsating techno beat reminded me more of Berlin's hyper-cool night scene than anything I'd ever seen in Montreal.

Bob took a little video that captures the mood reasonably well. A light rain was falling but it didn't seem to dampen the festivities, whatever they were.
By then the movie had ended, we fetched the car and picked up the movie-goers.  Everyone was starving.  We ended up at Il Focolaio, my favorite pizza joint on Phillips Square, right across from Birks where Bob had snapped pictures earlier.

We chatted, ate the pizza, and headed home.

Another fantastic (and final) day on the 2013 Blogger to Blogger Tour in the bag.

2013 Blogger to Blogger Tour - Montreal leg, part one

"Guess who's coming for dinner?" I said to Susan.

Actually, I didn't. But I could have.

Bob's Spot messenger trail was heading straight for us faster than I could have imagined. I checked with Susan and headed to the grocery store to pick up a few essentials we needed if we were to take good care of our incoming guests.

Mere minutes after walking in the door I spotted motorcycles in the driveway.

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

Bob and Karen were weary from a long day's ride in foul stormy weather. They wheeled their bikes into the garage and lost no time shedding all the wet armor.

A hot home cooked meal, following nice hot showers, with a couple of bottles of rosé and white wine, led to a very pleasant evening of conversation.

After breakfast on Friday morning Karen had to leave for home. Bob and I rode out to the western tip of the island to see her off. It was a last ride for the three of us together. Bob planned to stay with us for the weekend before heading out for his own long trek home to Vancouver.

Last year in Vancouver Bob had given me a grand tour of his favorite haunts. Bob, Sonja, Roland, and Dave were wonderful tour guides. Now it was time for me to return the favour, if only for Bob. I had a day to give Bob a decent lesson in the sights, sounds and tastes of the city. It was fun to be leading a tour. The fact that we had Sena helmet communicators made a huge difference.

Before treating you to the tour we took, I should add a technical note on the Sena. Bob mentioned that he was getting some static on his. Later during the tour he could hear me, but I couldn't hear him. After some trial and error, we disconnect and re-seated both our control units. Bingo! Problem solved. It seemed that Bob's unit was not quite seated well and one of the pins (presumably the pin or pins for the mic) had made a poor contact.

We took the shortest and fastest route to the easternmost point on the tour. The Olympic stadium and the Olympic park. The stadium has become one of Montreal's signature landmarks. You can see it from afar from all over, or at least from anywhere but the western side of the island since Mount Royal gets in the way. Unless you see it from close up it's impossible to grasp the scale of this huge building. I decided that I would take pictures of Bob taking pictures.

From there I set a course for Ste-Helen's Island. This is a must see as it's the former home of Expo67. I chose the eastern access over the Jacques Cartier bridge. It's the most dramatic route to the Island and the bridge itself is another signature landmark.

The first photo op was what is now the Biodome and what was the Expo67 American pavilion.

I had my fingers crossed. We took a short ride across a bridge onto the site's man-made sister Island, Ile Notre Dame. You see, Bob is not only a rider and a talented photographer, he's also a true car guy. I guess the finger-crossing worked, because Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, site of the one of the world's 19 Grand Prix F1 races for the 2013 season, was open to roller bladers, cyclists, and... yes, motor vehicles. The thirty kilometer per hour speed limit didn't allow for any knee-down Moto GP antics, but it's still pretty cool to ride an F1 race track and see it from that perspective.

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

Returning to Ile Ste-Hélène, we cruised along as I pointed out other Expo67 pavilions that still stand, some of which house the Montreal casino. We tucked the bikes into a niche near the La Ronde amusement park and walked a few feet to a spot that offers a great view of the city.

From there we took the Pont de la Concorde towards the old port and Old Montreal.
We parked the bikes opposite the Marché Bonsecours and took a stroll along rue St-Paul, past Place Jacques Cartier, then up to Notre Dame street, back down through Place Jacques Cartier, before returning to fetch the bikes.

Once we saddled up, we headed back up to Notre Dame and westward to St-Laurent boulevard. I was constantly doing my tour guide impression, reeling off all the information about Montreal that sprang to mind as we made our way northbound on 'the Main'. St-Laurent divides Montreal east and west. It's also been the traditional focal point for successive waves of immigrant families. Like an archeological dig, the waves of immigration defined the Main south to north. We travelled through Chinatown, then through the entertainment district, and parked the bikes just north of Pine avenue in the stretch where the Jewish influence is clearly present.

Schwartz's Deli sits on the eastern (sunny) side of St-Laurent just fifteen or twenty feet north of our parking spot. We lined up long enough for Bob to snap some photos, of this most iconic of Montreal eateries. 

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

Unwilling to devote half an hour just to make our way to the door, I mentioned to Bob that the Main Deli across the street had excellent smoked meat, and was certainly ranked in the top five Montreal smoked meat establishments.

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

So we settled in there for the obligatory 'special': a delicious smoked meat sandwich with a kosher dill pickle, some cole slaw, and a side of french fries.

There were still some obligatory stops and it was already three o'clock. We hopped back on the bikes and headed further north up to Mount Royal boulevard where we turned left and headed straight uphill to where the Camilien Houde Parkway winds its way up Mount Royal in a series of switchbacks. At the summit we circled back and headed back on our path so that we get to the eastern lookout. We chatted, snapped photos along with the usual tourist crowd. The most prominent landmark to be seen from this vantage point is the Olympic Stadium, far away to the east.

Truth be told, we dared to become scofflaws and made an illegal left turn to head back up to the summit. We followed Remembrance Road down the northwest side of the mountain, then left on Cote des Neiges, and immediately swung a hard right to climb up the other switchback road towards the Westmount summit. Our destination was the Westmount lookout. Not many tourists know about this third Mount Royal overlook. Since it's nestled in among the priciest homes in Montreal it's off limits to tour buses and off the radar for most tourists.

After taking in the sights looking southwest over the city, we rode down to the downtown core. We joined the parade of cars headed east on Ste-Catherine Street.

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

I was planning to park the bikes on McGill College avenue and take a stroll to show Bob the Roddick gates to the McGill University campus and the plaza at Place Ville Marie at the opposite end of the avenue. That plan was pre-empted because the avenue was closed to traffic for some kind of street festival.

It was getting late. I had exhausted my tour itinerary and I had a hair appointment at 7:00 o'clock I really needed to keep. We took the expressway home. I had made no plans whatsoever for the evening.

After a rather late dinner, it was Susan's turn to step into the tour guide's shoes. She proposed driving into town, stopping to give Bob a taste of a Montreal orange julep at the giant Orange Julep drive in on Décarie boulevard, a Montreal hangout celebrating its 80th anniversary. From there she proposed heading to Mount Royal to hike over to the third and most attractive lookout that is only accessible on foot. Truly great suggestions.

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

On the way we digressed slightly to take in St-Joseph's Oratory. To call it a church is like calling St-Peter's in Rome a church. It is one of the most prominent landmarks on the north side of the mountain.

From there we went to the main lookout that provides the best views of the city.  Bob took some amazing pictures of the skyline.

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

By the time we were done, Susan had one last great suggestion: let's take Bob for a Montreal bagel at St-Viateur Bagel.

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

Copyright 2013 Bob Leong

Done!

It was very late and more than high time to call it a day.

Part two of this story starts here.

Rain delay

On Monday I set out on my bike hoping for a bite to eat at a restaurant that warranted a blog post.

Sadly, the restaurant in question is closed on Mondays.  I eventually settled on a little corner restaurant that is nice, but not blog worthy by any means, at least not in any foodie sense, which is what I was after.

I sat in the restaurant because their terrace was full (that's a patio for non-Quebecers, if you're wondering) but was basically outside because the patio doors were wide open and I had a table right on the door sill.

There was rain in the forecast but only tiny amounts and the probability factor was small.  I had calculated that I would be back in the office before any rain fell.

As I was finishing my lunch, I noticed that the breeze had turned a little chilly and the sky was darkening.  I overheard the waitresses saying something about rain.  I lost no time finishing up and setting out for the office.  I only had three miles or so to go.

Less than halfway there, I started feeling little drops.  Within five minutes, it had started raining.  Just as the rain started I stopped and put on my rain jacket.  When I take these little lunchtime trips I don't bother with my armored pants.  I always have my rain jacket under the seat, but I don't carry rain pants.  I think I'll pack my rain pants from now on.

As I headed south on St-Urbain, the rainfall was getting to be a problem.  Although I'm better protected than if I was on a motorcycle, particularly since I still have the tall windscreen on, my suit pants were soon going to be wet if I didn't seek shelter.

About a minute later I was riding past Place des Arts, and I was on the lookout for a shelter option.  Providence provided.  I spotted a bicycle rack with scooters and motorcycles parked next to the rack, that was conveniently located under the building's overhang.

After the storm abated some fifteen or twenty minutes later, I was on my way.  I never really did get wet.  Perhaps only slightly damp.

Rider profile: Steve Williams

Name:  Steve Williams
Find me on Earth: Boalsburg, Pennsylvania, USA
Find me Online: Scooter in the Sticks; @ScooterNSticks on Twitter; Scooter in the Sticks on Facebook,  my fall 2017 vlog interview with Steve, and Steve's January 21, 2020 interview on Chasing ghosts, on scooters, in bars.
Interview Date: Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Interview Location: Bellefonte, Pennsylvania, USA

Scootcommute: When did you start riding, how old were you?

Steve: While I did some riding as a kid in high school, dirt bikes, borrowed motorcycles and such, I don't really consider my riding to have begun until I was 51.

Scootcommute: How many motorbikes have you owned?

Steve: Two.  The first was a Vespa LX150 and the second my current Vespa GTS250ie.

Scootcommute: What is your current bike, and is the current bike your favorite?

Steve: A Vespa GTS250ie.  And yes, it is my favorite -- of the ones I have owned and of everything I have ever ridden.

Scootcommute: Talk to me about the most challenging riding skill you learned.

Steve: Riding in winter has presented the most challenges -- technically and psychologically.  When the temperature drops below the freezing mark my riding persona must change.  Everything is different because, well, everything is different.  Whether dealing with a cold road surface on a sunny day at 20F or with snow or ice, you have to think and act differently.  Riding in winter forces me to pay attention in a hyper-focused manner.

Scootcommute: Are you a moto-commuter, a tourer, or a fair weather rider?

Steve: I suppose I consider myself a moto-commuter most of the time and a meditation rider the rest. By that I mean the act of riding, moving over the road, delivers a calmness and serenity that I've not achieved through other means.  Doesn't matter when I go or what I see, just the ride seems to work. Even the commutes to work.

Scootcommute: Are you a solitary rider? How about riding in a group?

Steve: Solitary riding is definitely my default choice and matches my temperament.  I've ridden in two big group rides and have found that a strain.  Too much going on, too many people.  Probably why I don't like big parties, concerts or other crowded events.

I do ride with friends though from time to time -- one or two other riders and while I enjoy the camraderie and social aspects I always feel like I have to watch out for them and spend a lot of time watching where they are, what they're doing and such.  Maybe everyone does that.

Scootcommute: I dare you to share an awkward or embarassing riding moment.

Steve: Two things come to mind and both involve the scooter hitting the pavement.  The first was during a slow speed slide in the snow, one foot down and dragging the scooter racing style to a stop until I lost my footing and the Vespa went down.  First thing I did was jump up and look around to make sure no one saw me.  Reminded me of Pee Wee in Pee Wee's Big Adventure when he crashed his bicycle and jumping up and exclaiming to anyone who might have witnessed the event, "I meant to do that!".

Same with me, I meant to drop the scooter in the snow. No one saw though and it led me to purchase armored pants.

The second was a real bonehead mistake.  Scooter is on the center stand along the road.  My camera is sitting on the seat as I prepare to move the scooter to a better position for a photograph.  As the scooter comes off the stand the camera begins to fall.  In that instant I have to decide whether to hold onto the scooter or grab the camera.  I choose the camera and the scooter hits the pavement.  I felt stupid and lazy for doing that.  Oh well.

Scootcommute: What is the best place your bike has taken you?

Steve: Home.  A ride to the place where I grew up outside of Pittsburgh.  It's a different experience moving through all the little streets and alleys on a scooter than passing by in a car.  Much more visceral, sense-based experience.  The ride triggered memories and emotions I didn't realize were there. Of all the rides I have made in the 40K plus miles I have ridden that day stands out still as the special riding experience.

Scootcommute: Tell me why you ride.

Steve: Riding is meditation.  Since I was in college I have chased some way to make my life slow down.  When I took my first ride on the Vespa I finally found the answer.  Fun, excitement, utility, transportation -- those are all secondary rewards.

Scootcommute: If I could grant you one riding wish, what would it be?

I wish, I hope, that I can continue to ride until the end -- that my last ride isn't far from my last breath…

Can you grant me that?

_____________________________

You can find other rider profiles on the Rider Profiles page

Rider profile: Paul Ruby

Name:  Paul Ruby
Find me on Earth:  State College,  Pennsylvania, USA
Find me Online:  http://www.pdruby.com/homepage/home.htm
Interview Date:  Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Interview Location:  State College,  Pennsylvania, USA

Scootcommute: When did you start riding, how old were you?

Paul: In 1984, 28 years old.

Scootcommute: How many motorbikes have you owned?

Paul: I've lost count.  20-30 probably.

Scootcommute: What is your current bike, and is the current bike your favorite?

Paul: 1964 Vespa 90,  1965 Vespa 150GL, 2007 Piaggio Fly 150, 2009 Ducati 1198, 2007 BMW K1200GT  The Ducati is the most exhilarating. The BMW is the best distance cruiser I've had.   The 1965 Vespa 150GL is very classy and timeless.  

Scootcommute: Talk to me about the most challenging riding skill you learned.

Paul: I'm not a natural rider.  Everything I've learned I've learned by doing it the wrong way first.  The skill I now have that I like the most is confidence.

I can toss that big BMW around pretty good.  I can turn tight circles.  I can lock the back brake up and slide along the road with them all.  My balance and control has never been better.  I know my limits.

Scootcommute: Are you a moto-commuter, a tourer, or a fair weather rider?

Paul: I'm a blend of those but I don't tend to take the motorcycle if it's raining.  Who likes riding with soggy underwear?

Scootcommute: Are you a solitary rider? How about riding in a group?

Paul: I like to ride with friends.  It's more fun and I like to share experiences.

Scootcommute: I dare you to share an awkward or embarassing riding moment.

Paul: That's an easy one.  I was trying to impress a girl once. She was on the back of my Harley Sportster and we were riding along the dirt road through the woods.

A large mud puddle went across the road. I slowed to near walking speed.  Half way through the puddle the front wheel started to slide to one side.  I yelled, "Jump off!"  I think she jumped off and landed on her feet. But the motorcycle fell over in a foot of muddy water and steam rose from it. We later got married.

Scootcommute: What is the best place your bike has taken you?

Paul: Mostly the rides Steve (Williams) and I go on are my favorites.  We just go to good diners or visiting friends.  It's pretty simple.

Scootcommute: Tell me why you ride.

Paul: That's easy.  Nothing philosophical. It's fun.  Also the Ducati makes my ____  1/2" longer when I get into the throttle. No smart remarks!

Scootcommute: If I could grant you one riding wish, what would it be?

Paul: I would like you to arrange Angelina Jolie to go to Burger King with me on my scooter.  Take photos.

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You can find other rider profiles on the Rider Profiles page

Settling back into a normal routine

I'm back to my daily commute...

... and back to hopping on my Vespa to get to more distant lunch dates. Like today's lunch with my close friend Andrew on a rare visit from London, Ontario.

Andrew is staying at a very classy boutique hotel in Old Montreal.

We had lunch at Titanic, a nice little chef-owned soup, salad and sandwich place in Old Montreal on St-Pierre street.  That modest description truly fails to do this place justice.

Neither one of us could resist their Mac-n-Cheese.

Could you?  Dare I say it?  It's even better than Bleecher's in Seattle.

2013 Blogger to Blogger Tour - The long ride home

I knew I had to hustle. Time was not my friend. I feared that somewhere along my route in Vermont some forest dweller was planning a stroll on the Interstate for when I'd be rolling through.

I still needed to grab a bite to eat though while restaurants were plentiful.

As I rolled up the street I saw that Tom had broken off from the group as well. We happened to be going the same way. Two identical Vespas navigating northwest and away from Old Orchard Beach. As our paths diverged we honked our horns goodby.

I lost as little time as possible refueling the Vespa and refilling my five liter spare gas tank. I had gassed up using the jerry can in the morning so as not to delay the group joyride. There happened to be a fast food joint across the street where I wolfed down a burger.

I punched the home button on my Garmin, cleared the avoidance preferences I had set in New Hampshire for expressways and toll roads, and I began the ride to Montreal. The day was sunny and clear and the heat wave we had all week had lifted. It promised to be perfect riding weather.

Getting away was weird at first. The GPS seemed to have conspired with the state of Maine to loop me through three tollbooths within no more than ten minutes. For a bit I thought I was riding in a vicious circle. If I was, then it was truly a conspiracy because they changed up the toll collector each time. It was like a Hitchcock movie, or the lead-in to an episode of the Twilight Zone. Three bucks. Not so bad.

The brief stint on the Interstate led to increasingly rural bi-ways, then to country highways as I slowly climbed from sea level towards the rolling hills of Maine. I eventually joined Route 302 headed northwest towards New Hampshire and the White Mountains. Oddly, in all our trips to Maine we had never come this way. We had either followed Route 26 further to the east, or I-93 further to the west, but never 302.

I knew I was in North Conway when I ran into bumper to bumper traffic down the main street. The congestion stretched for a mile or more. With literally no time to lose, I skirted the parade and lane split to by-pass the mess. This is where a Vespa shines. The CVT transmission and compact footprint make quick and easy work of the most daunting bumper-to-bumper traffic. In no time at all North Conway was in my mirrors.

After North Conway, Route 302 goes through the heart of the White Mountains. The scenery on this highway is simply spectacular. There were plenty of motorcycles on the road. I ended up riding behind a couple of guys on sport bikes. I was following them when the route twisted its way through Crawford Notch. I had managed to forget that a shortcoming of my particular Vespa is the side stand. I dialed in the countersteer for the tightest twist in the road and nearly ground the side stand down to the bolts. Now to be honest, that did freak me out. I handled it with an application of rear brake to scrub off enough speed to correct the trajectory and negotiate the notch more conservatively with less lean. Unless I remove the side stand, my Vespa is not a machine for twisties.

By five o'clock the shadows were getting long making it harder to see wildlife that might be lurking past the shoulders. I saw my first upright non-flat gopher poised on the left lane contemplating a myopic stroll to the great beyond. A couple of times a pungent feral odor wafted into my helmet. Deer musk. I rolled off the throttle and peeled my eyes.

In the fullness of time I reached the Stanstead border crossing at about 6:00 p.m.  It was later than I would have liked. I still had a good hour of riding in deer and moose country before reaching the relative safety of the plains of farmland east of Montreal.

The Montreal bound traffic on Autoroute 10 grew with each passing mile. At one point a fool on a sport bike with his girlfriend riding pillion flew by.  I say he was a fool because he was going much too fast, likely doing at least 140 km/h, and riding extremely aggressively, tailgating cars in the left hand lane, dodging left and right either looking for a way to slip by the car, or trying to intimidate the driver into getting out of the left lane.  I couldn't resist shaking my head in disbelief and disgust.  Why would his girlfriend stay on that bike?

Forty-five minutes later the traffic on westbound Autoroute 10 came to a sudden stop.  Until that point, my estimated time of arrival on the Garmin had never gone past 8:29 p.m.  At the border I had called Susan to say to expect me home at 8:30.  I phoned her to tell her that it looked like I had hit the traffic of cottagers returning to the city and based on where I was, it could take forever to get home.

It wasn't returning cottagers.  It was an accident.  Cars, RVs, and motorcycles  had pulled over to the side, people were milling around, and others were attempting to direct traffic.  The left lane was where the incident, whatever it was, had occurred.  There were no first responders on the scene.  As I rolled by the focus of everyone's attention, there was a car in the left hand lane, apparently undamaged, but, there were at least three people crouching on the trunk lid, hood and roof attending to the inert body of a person lying on top of the car.  I couldn't be sure, but the jeans and leather jacket seemed to be those of the madman's pillion.  If it was, he must have hit a car and catapulted his pillion onto the roof of the other car.

It was an unnerving tail to a week-long moto adventure. A good ten minutes later a police cruiser wailed past on the east-bound side of the autoroute.  I knew where it was headed.  I never saw an ambulance.  Clearly one was desperately needed.

About forty-five minutes still to go before crossing onto the island of Montreal and clearly I needed fuel.  I should have just pulled onto the shoulder and filled up from my jerry can but I was still a little shaken by the accident aftermath I had witnessed.  I hit the call button on the Sena and asked Siri to take me to a gas station.  She cheerfully replied that the closest station was four kilometers away and suggested I take the next exit.

I did something I hadn't done the whole trip.  I tossed the right side ROK strap to the right side of the bike.  Somehow, that strap had always ended on the left side during my refueling stops and I would have to pull it through to re-secure it.  I remember thinking 'I'm getting the hang of this in time to end the trip'.  I took my time refueling.  The driver at the adjacent pump came over to chat and enquire about how one takes a Vespa moto camping.  He was amazed when he found out where I was coming from.

When I reloaded my gear, I realized that my right-hand ROK strap that I had tossed over to the right side, had had a nasty encounter with the red-hot exhaust.

It held, just barely.  All I needed it to do was hold enough not to come off and trail in the wind.  Fortunately it made it home, still in one piece.   I made a note never to do that again, and to buy a new set of ROK straps.

At 8:45 p.m., I rounded the corner of my street, hit the garage door remote and rolled into the garage.  There was a finality when I hit the kill switch.

The last thing I did was to check the odometer against my departure reading: 2,862 kilometers over nine days, or 1,778 miles.  Quite a trip for a first-timer.

I was glad to be home, safe and sound.

I gave Susan a long, long hug.

2013 Blogger to Blogger Tour - The last day for me

I woke up as usual before every one else.

I crept to the powder room and did my best to be as quiet as a mouse in the house.

A little later on, Bob crawled out of his sleeping bag and began his day too.

We had camped on Mike and Rebecca's living room and dining room floors respectively.  I can't speak for Bob but I had a nice restful night's sleep.  There were two cats in the house, but for whatever reason my allergies never really kicked in.

I packed up my gear, and loaded up the Vespa.  Karen and Bob were staying on for another day before heading up the coast towards the maritime provinces, but I needed to be home, hopefully before nightfall.  The last couple of hours of my day's ride would be in farmland and urban areas, but before that there would be very long stretches of woodland.  Dusk in the woodlands brought with it the risk of deer and moose on the road.  I wanted to get out of the woodland stretches well before dusk.

The plan for today in Portland was for Tina, Kevin and Tom to drop by for breakfast, and then for Mike and Tom to lead us all on an abbreviated tour of local sights.  My hope was that we could be rolling by 9:00 a.m.

Karen had set out bright and early and had picked us up a huge batch of bagels to share. Needless to say, breakfast was great, but we got a late start.

Tom took the lead as we headed out.  We got separated by the world's longest traffic signal.  No worries though because Mike was sweeping with Rebecca as a pillion, so we were in expert hands.

As will see, we eventually caught up at the Portland Head Lighthouse.
We soaked up the views at this stunning park.

Mike pointed out landmarks for me on the horizon and explained the military defenses that protected what was once a strategic 18th and 19th century port.

Bob obliged us with one of his famous group pictures.

We saddled up and followed Tom southward.  The destination was Old Orchard Beach.  The only time I had gone there was when I was four or five years old with my parents.  My Dad had a 1950 Ford Prefect.  That's all I remember.

Susan and I have a love affair going with Ogunquit, Maine.  We just keep going back every few years.  We may wander as far north as Kennebunkport, but we never make it to Old Orchard Beach.

We may have to change that though, because what I saw, I liked.
More crowded than Ogunquit to be sure, and there's a hustle and bustle to Old Orchard Beach that sets it apart.  But I can see us having a nice time with a day trip here, the next time we're in Maine.

I glanced at my watch, and even though it was only a little past 1:00 p.m., I had that Cinderella feeling.  My time was running out.  If I was going to avoid dusk in the forest on the way home, I had to giddy-up and ride off on my own.

I bid farewell to all my new friends, and my old ones.  I knew that they had more fun in store.  I'd have to follow on their blogs.

The ride home will require yet another post.

I'll also add an epilogue to the 2013 Blogger to Blogger Tour posts with lessons learned from my first major long distance moto camping experience.  Other aspiring Vespa tourers may be able to learn a thing or two, and be in a position to leap at a touring opportunity if and when one presents itself.

Stay tuned folks.