Fuel for the soul

After commuting all my life on buses, subways, trains, and sometimes by car, nothing compares to commuting on my Vespa.

The incredibly scenic route I am privileged to take makes a huge contribution to the pure pleasure of the ride.

But it's not merely about the route.

As beautiful as it is, I have taken the same route many times in a car, and even in my Miata with the top down, it's just not as enjoyable as with the Vespa.

The Vespa makes taking in these views, and snapping these photos, so easy to do, that I actually get to do it. It's something I never did in the past.

It's a simple part of the scoot commute and life on two small wheels that brings extra peace and contentment into my life.

Does your commute do that for you?

Twists and turns

The very best riding moments are deeply satisfying.

There's something about twisting stretches of road, particularly well-spaced S-curves, that can be counted on for that kind of satisfaction.

The portion of the commute that follows Lake St-Louis through Pointe-Claire, Dorval and Lachine has a fair number of those twisting stretches.I tried to capture a few photos of them this morning.It's the physical forces flowing through the bike and the rider that make those curves so much fun. For the Vespa and my current skill level, the magic equation seems to be somewhere over 50 km/h, with a decent lean into the turn, and then shifting the lean one way, then the other, as the S curve rolls by.The antithesis of the graceful S-curve is the awkward slow, sharp L-turn, often in cramped quarters, sometimes jerky, always risky, never pleasant. Bonus points for fumbling the controls on the turn indicator and inadvertently flashing the high beam. Even more points if it's a trifecta and I hit the horn button too.

As great as the S makes me feel, the awkward L-turn is unsettling, undermines my confidence, makes me curse my lack of skill, and makes me vow to return to a parking lot to practice.

Tough week

Last week was quite a week, with a fair amount to share, but no time to share it here.

Better late than not at all.

My route along the lakeshore continued to offer one soul-refreshing view after another. The week was a tough one at the office with major personal challenges as well.

At times like that, the serenity of riding the scooter along one of the most scenic drives on the island provides needed relief from the pressures felt elsewhere.Last Tuesday I rode down to Old Montreal for a bowl of clam chowder and a lobster roll at Muvbox. Muvbox is beginning its summer season down by the last lock on the Lachine Canal that connects the canal to the downtown harbour. What makes Muvbox special is that it's a self-contained lobster shack that transforms out of a shipping container. It's solar powered and off the grid. Plus the lobster fresh from the Magdalen Islands in the Gulf of St-Lawrence is a treat that kicks off the summer season in a very pleasant way.
Moving on to the more technical side of the scooter commute, Thursday morning brought the threat of rain.

The rain only really started in earnest once I was downtown. Riding the Vespa in a downpour is nothing like any other rain experience I have had.

I've had plenty of experience riding bicycles in the rain. On a bicycle you become one with the rain. You get absolutely drenched to the point where you can't really get any wetter.

On the scooter, with proper rain gear and a full face helmet, it's the reverse. You're in the rain, it's all around you, it's running down you in every direction, but you're perfectly dry and comfortable.On a bicycle I merge with the rain. On the scooter I am in the rain but I travel through it, observing it, feeling it, hearing it, being in the middle of it, yet remaining completely separate from it.

It's not really a better way to experience the rain on two wheels, it's just completely different.

Other fair weather sports

Scooters are out in force, so are the sailboats on Lake St-Louis. There's only one inescapable conclusion: Summertime, summertime, summertime.

Today I commuted by car and had to deal with a massive traffic jam on Highway 20 on the way home: an extra 45 minutes tacked onto the 1 hour commute, bumper to bumper, to bumper. Had I taken the Vespa, I could have scooted past the whole awful mess.

Tomorrow it's back to the much more pleasant scoot commute.

Summer heat at last!!

The temperature for this morning's commute was a very comfortable 20 Celsius (68 Fahrenheit). What a pleasure not wearing a fleece under my Corazzo 5.0 jacket or the ski gloves.

This evening brought 30C degree heat (86F). Even with all vents open on the jacket and my Nolan N-102 helmet, it was HOT.

The most pleasant surprise was when I got to the part of the route where the road is right on the lake, with nothing to break the breeze coming off the water. It was like air conditioning on a scooter!! Simply amazing. It felt like a 15 degree temperature drop each time I caught the lake breeze.

One more thing to look forward to during my summer scoot commutes.

There was the most beautiful photo opportunity along the way: a shimmering misty view of one of the many broad bays, with a handful of kite boarders skimming along and catching wild air propelled by the strong wind filling their huge colorful kites.

But I had a mission that left no time for photo opportunities: I had to get home to greet my daughter who just got home from a month-long European vacation.

I'm sure I'll get many other opportunities to get those shots and share them with you here.

Speed: distance over time

One of the things I love about my scooter is the freedom it affords.

I can go anywhere my car would take me, and then much more.

Why much more?

• Because I can stop and park in places my car won't let me. In fact, parking is available pretty much anywhere I care to stop.
• I can roam and roam with hardly a concern for the rising cost of gas.
• Riding twisting roads on the scooter is just plain fun.
• Even stops signs and red lights are fun, since I get to glide to a stop, then glide off again. A little like landing, and taking off, over and over.
• Riding focuses my mind in ways driving doesn't. Fewer distractions, more to concentrate on, more to experience.

Basically, it's all about distance and time and the way the scooter changes the way I experience them.

In the past lunch hour used to mean choosing which food court to walk to.

All last summer, BIXI bikes expanded my range. Old Montreal, the Plateau, the Atwater Market became lunch venues. Life on two wheels was just beginning. This year, my Vespa blows most roaming limits away. I can cover substantial distances in no time.

So last Thursday I zipped down to St-Helen's Island and Ile Notre Dame on my lunch hour.

The view of the downtown skyline from the north side of St-Helen's Island is completely unobstructed. One of man's great tributes to distance and speed is the Grand Prix circuit. Montreal is once again on the circuit and the F1 race will be held on the course at Ile Notre Dame in a few short weeks.

Time and distance are relative. The earth travels around the sun at more than 66,000 miles an hour and at Montreal's latitude the speed of rotation at the surface is approximately 700 miles an hour and yet we don't really have any way to experience all that speed. My average speed on the Vespa is perhaps 30 miles an hour, yet when I ride I feel like I'm flying.

Riding my Vespa around the the F1 circuit on my lunch hour: priceless. Friday evening I experienced another dimension of time and distance.

The town of Beaconsfield where I live is home to Canada's only true military cemetery. It's a few miles from my home. I've been going there off and on since I can remember. My grandfather who fought in World War I is buried there. I remember going to the Armistice ceremony with my parents and my grandmother when I was three or four years old.11:00 a.m., November 11. Unfailingly the coldest, dampest, dreariest most mournful day of any given year. Standing there as a child, the chill wind very uncomfortable, me holding my mother's hand. The lone bugler playing the last post. Slowly. So slow. So lonely. So sad. Time seemed to stand still. Until the rifles fired the twenty-one gun salute and the ceremony crawled to an end.

That military cemetery is today almost exactly as it was when I was four.

I rode over on the Vespa last evening. I was the only one there. Fitting.

The modest tombstones are set into the ground. Like the dead on a battlefield. A fittingly humble tribute to men and women who sacrificed life most precious for the greater good.

Being there makes me feel like a time traveller. Me as a young child, as a teen, as an adult, as a father, and now evenutally approaching retirement.

I, always growing... older, and this place, frozen in time.

Windmills

Another sunny but thoroughly chilly morning. Barely 3 degrees, just above freezing, a light frost on the cars in the driveway at 7:00 a.m. as I fired up the Vespa. I am wearing a fleece under the Corazzo 5.0 jacket and ski gloves on my hands. The visor on my Nolan N-102 is snapped firmly shut.

I stopped to snap this picture of one of the points that reach into Lake St-Louis along the route.
Scenes like that are a big part of the pleasure that the scoot commute affords.

When I pulled up a wheelchair ramp and onto the sidewalk to park for that shot, I heard a scrape and clunk. Checking the scoot revealed that the kick stand had grazed the curb. The impact shaved the cupped foot off the right leg of the stand.

I've noticed on Modern Vespa that many people name their scooters.

The smartest people I know always bestow names on their cars. I have never personally felt compelled to name my rides.

I was once tempted to name my bicycle ( I thought I would call it "Bernie" for reasons I won't explain, nothing to do with heat or fire). Oddly, I still think of it as Bernie, but frankly, I think that I never actually uttered the name, and this is definitely the first time I am sharing that. It's just not that relevant or important to me.

It occurred to me though, as I rode on and thought about the consequences of the missing foot (can't park on soft ground safely? What, if anything, to do about it?), that a fitting name for the Vespa would be "Peg Leg". I've now posted that on one of the Modern Vespa threads about scooter names. Now that I've thought that, this Vespa will always be "Peg Leg", even if I never actually utter its name.

When I got to the Lachine Canal today, I chose to continue along the river instead of taking the usual route along the canal.

Intuitively I figured that the alternative route would be substantially longer and tack an extra 30 minutes on the ride.

Assumptions are frequently wrong. It turns out that the time penalty for the longer route is only about ten minutes.

Continuing to follow the road along the water brings fresh pleasures. New sweeping views of the lake and the broad St-Lawrence rendered in shimmering silver by the morning light, and new interesting landmarks to admire like the Fleming Mill in Lasalle.The Fleming Mill was built in 1827 and operated until 1891. It now belongs to the City of Lasalle and is a classified cultural monument.The view of the lake across the road from the mill is truly beautiful and restful.

Mercier bridge

Today I paused to enjoy a banana breakfast in the Lachine Canal park. I had never been to the park before. I always thought that it was just a marina.

The park is on a long spit that juts into Lake St-Louis at the mouth of the Lachine Canal. It turns out that the marina is on a similar spit just a little to the north of the park. The two spits are like spindly fingers reaching out into the lake. I stopped at the very end of the parking lot and perched on a large boulder to sip my hot tea and take in the view.

This vantage point offered a distant view of the Mercier bridge. The Mercier is the westernmost of the major bridges linking Montreal to the south shore of the St-Lawrence river. The Mercier bridge is the larger bridge in the background. The bridge in the foreground is a separate railway bridge. The commute home last night was accompanied by threatening weather and very strong winds. It took me an extra 10 or fifteen minutes to get into my rain suit before leaving but the effort was well worth while, even though I only had to ride through light occasional rain. The extra protection of the rain suit made the ride much more comfortable given the wind and a good drop in the temperature.

The Vespa LX150 performed very well in the stiff headwind. I had to open the throttle a little more to pace the traffic, but had no trouble keeping up my speed with power to spare.

The wind felt like a massive wall pressing against my upper body. I had never experienced anything quite like it. If I had to ride in strong wind conditions very often, a large windscreen would be a definite addition to my wish list.

In spite of the pressures, the Vespa felt very solid. It really is an excellent bike.

You will see that I added a Modern Vespa "MV" sticker to the topcase. I only joined the forum in October of last year. In that short time, I have learned that the forum provides a wealth of information, support and humor for anyone who owns a scooter, and Vespa owners in particular. The sticker is a small way to show my support and appreciation.

Breakfast break

This is the view of the lake looking southwest where St-John's boulevard meets Lakeshore road.

The morning mist on the lake made for such a beautiful scene that I just had to stop and snap the picture.

I'm trying out a new approach for breakfast during the week.

This morning I brought along a thermos of piping hot Earl Grey tea and an apple.

A traditional park bench along the waterfront in Lachine provided the venue and the view.
If there is a strong argument for commuting on a Vespa, this is it.

Maintenance

When I bought the Vespa it had 1,304 miles (2,908 kms) on the odometer. Now it's got just over 1,880. 576 miles of happiness.

I've been keeping an eye on the back tire because that's the one that wears more quickly.

One the few drawbacks of the route I take is the number of railroad tracks that cross St. Patrick street. I haven't actually counted, but there are at least four or five sets [I subsequently counted, and in fact there are seven sets of tracks to cross]. The tracks are for spur lines that link the factories on the south side of St. Patrick street to the rail line that runs along the bank of the Lachine canal. The rails cross the roadway at forty-five degrees. Since the St. Patrick street portion of the route is also where the traffic speed is highest, I regularly hit them at 40+ mph (65+ kph). The tires really take a beating. "KA-CLUNK ~ KA-CLUNK", times 5, twice a day.

So at lunch time yesterday I took a ride to Alex Berthiaume et Fils, Montreal's main Vespa dealer. I wanted them take a look at the tire and have them show me how to check the oil as well. Good thing I did, too.

Turns out the dealer in Toronto who sold me the scooter and did the oil change, overfilled it. The Alex Berthiaume mechanic very kindly used a large syringe to remove the excess oil. He was shocked that any dealer would make such a mistake.

He asked me if I had noticed difficulty starting and loss of power (symptoms of oil overfill). I hadn't. But since I'm new to the scooter, I had no basis for comparison. But now I do.

Unbelievable! It's like someone added another 50cc's to the bike! I easily accelerated to 75kph going up the hill on Pine towards Peel on the way back to the office.

Today I'll pick up some tire levers at Canadian Tire and tackle the tire change. Here's a link to a YouTube how-to video. Should be fun.

Stewart Hall

The snow that fell yesterday and the day before is gone. There's a good chill in the air, but the scoot commute is back on.

Today's photo stop offers views of Stewart Hall in Pointe Claire.
Stewart Hall is a stately mansion designed by Robert Finlay, a Scottish architect, on a commission from General Charles Wesley McLean. Finlay also designed many of Montreal's great mansions for the city's elite, that are, for the most part, situated on the slopes of Mount Royal, and particularly in the downtown area north of Sherbrooke street known as the Golden Mile.

The mansion was completed in 1916 and originally named Mull Hall. The hall was saved from demolition by Mrs. May Beatrice Stewart who donated it to the City of Pointe Claire.
Stewart Hall serves as the City of Pointe Claire's cultural centre.

One of the many attractive features of the stately home is the western portico that offers a beautiful view of the lake.
On the technical side of things, I'm wondering about whether a windscreen would be a good addition for the Vespa. There's the choice of low, medium or high windshields. I've yet to read anything convincing on the Modern Vespa forum one way or the other, other than some people swear by them.

I am also increasingly tempted by the thought of installing heated hand grips. Thoroughly chilled hands is the usual outcome by the time I get to work. In the evening the ride is much warmer and even with lighter gloves, I don't get chilled.

Cold weather issues will be gone soon enough, and I'll have plenty of time to mull it over before the fall. I'm anxious to see what riding in warm weather will be like.

Hmmm... you write about the history of Mull Hall and before you know it, you're mulling things over.

Late April snow

Unbelievably, the weatherman was right on the money.

It's been snowing all day, and it's likely to snow tomorrow as well.

Nothing is quite as dreary, misplaced and unwelcome as a snow fall in late April.

The winter clothes are all in the basement closet, and I'm in denial. I scurry along the block-and-a-half walk to the shelter of the underground city in search of lunch while trying to fend off the blustery snow with my little umbrella.

The scoot commute seems a distant unattainable goal. Can't wait for this weather to blow on its way.

This is what I think as I gaze out my office window.

Scootless commutes

This past Friday I took a car to work, and tomorrow, Monday, I'm taking my wife's car to the dealer, so the Vespa gets a rest.

The pluses are: choice of entertainment on the radio: CDs, radio stations, Ipod selections. Air conditioning. Shelter from the world: relative quiet, comfort, sometimes company for the ride. No gear to suit up in. Choice of cupholders.

Minuses: the cost of parking, endless expressway scenes and bumper to bumper traffic.

To make up for the scootless commutes, I spent an hour in the saddle today. I rode west along the lakeshore from Beaconsfield through Baie d'Urfé, Sainte Anne de Bellevue, around the western tip of the island and Sennevile, on to Pierrefonds, then along the banks of what Montrealers call the 'back river', to Saint Charles boulevard that cuts straight north-south across the island , to Kirkland and back to Beaconsfield, then west again along the lakeshore and back home. A special treat, other than a stunning sunset that turned a wide swath of the Lake of Two Mountains into liquid gold, was that I had the road mostly to myself: a lovely twisting country road, up hills, down again through sweeping turns, pure two-wheel pleasure.

At some point in the coming weeks or months, I'll take a camera along and document some of that route for all to enjoy.

Why I ride

I posted a reply to a fascinating thread of discussion on the Modern Vespa forum yesterday.
The original poster, Wangta, had asked members of the forum back in 2008 when they thought riding a scooter would no longer be age-appropriate, when the risks would be inappropriate in view of one's social and personal obligations, and whether riders should be concerned with how they are perceived by their supervisors and others who have an influence on their jobs and careers. The thread is well worth reading. It says a lot about the demographics of scootering, the role that risk plays in our lives, and ultimately the human condition. The thread recently revived, and was new to me. It seems to be generating as much input now, as it did then. The topic and the reactions it gets are, after all, timeless, and cross the boundaries of all human experience. You get there by clicking here.

Posting the reply helped me to express why I ride. It's very relevant to this blog, so I'm posting it here as well, enhanced with some helpful links, and some [needed? - ed.] editorial comment.

Here is what I wrote:

I'm 57. I started riding a scooter 2 weeks ago. Until then my two wheel experience was limited to bikes.

I'm not the most accomplished rider, but I'm comfortable and happy on two wheels.

It took me nine months to convince my wife to accept my decision to commute this way.

Wangta, I respect your concern for the risk, and its potential impact on loved ones and others who depend on us.

The reason I rode 600+ kms on BIXI bikes last year, and the reason I'm riding the Vespa, is the feeling I get from the experience. It's the way gravity and G forces flow through you on two wheels. The sense of freedom it brings, the concentration it takes, the lessons and skills I am learning daily, the beauty of the scenes that open to me on my bike that I don't experience the same way in my car or on the train.

I was inspired to take this challenge by people like Steve Wiiliams, Dave Dixon, [Orin O'neill, - ed.] and you. Your blog on your cross-country trip inspired me to embark on the much more mundane adventure of riding 30kms to work each day. And 30kms back.

I contribute to this forum, and I now write a blog, because I am grateful to you, and all MV members for sharing your experience, and inspiring me to assume these risks from which I am getting so much pleasure.

Life well lived is all about the rewards we reap from the risks we take. Marriage and the risk of divorce. Children and the risk of birth defects, illness, and accidents that they entail. Applying to law school and the risk of failure and rejection. Changing jobs. Swimming and the risk of drowning. Flying and the risk of crashing.

Two years ago when I was commuting by train, I was very stressed in the wake of the bombings in Madrid [Wow, that was in 04 not 08, I was so far off - ed.] and the threats uttered against Canadians because of our troops fighting in Afghanistan.

How do we make sense of our decisions? Should we always take the safest route from A to B? Should we foresake activities that inspire us in order to avoid attendant risks?

The best that we have to offer to our community, to those who are closest to us, and to those that depend on us, is the inspiration to live life to the best of our potential, and in doing so, to inspire those same folks to do the same in turn.

Riding a Vespa to work pales compared to the recent achievements in the Vancouver Olympics, which in turn pale compared to the achievements in the Special Olympics that followed.

We are all better off for that risk taking.

I am better off for the risks you took on that trip and the risk you took in blogging about it [and the risk you took starting this thread on the forum - ed.]. Because even blogging and contributing to this forum exposes us to the risk of public disapproval and sometimes bitter criticism.

Thanks again.

Urban renewal

It's been an interesting week.

The one piece rain suit I purchased got tested in the rain on Monday. As expected it performed very, very well. As my son pointed out, without the helmet on, it looks like a parachute jumpsuit. With the helmet on... well, I begin to look like an astronaut.

There are two issues with the one-piece rainsuit. It's challenging enough getting into the one-piece that I wouldn't want to be doing it in the rain by the side of the road. So that means putting it on if the weather is iffy. Which often means either that I'm wearing too much gear, or worrying that I'll get caught with too little on if it starts to rain.

So I traded the one-piece for a two piece, which is a much better solution for my real need. Yesterday at lunch I went out to the Jean-Talon market and it started raining intermittently. I put the rain pants on but left the jacket in the pet carrier. The Corazzo 5.0 riding jacket is water resistant, so even if there was a light rain, or a cloudburst, I'd be fine getting back to the office.

As it happened, there were only a few drops so even the pants were overkill. On the commute home, I did get some rain, and the combination of the Corazzo and the rain pants was just the right solution.

Which brings me to the morning commute. So far this week the mornings have been a little chilly, but otherwise gorgeous. The route along the lakeshore offers beautiful scenery in a variety that is constantly refreshing. Here for instance is one of the many lighthouses that dot the route. I have no idea whether they are purely decorative or truly serve a purpose, but with the quantity of ocean going freighters that travel through the lake I wouldn't be surprised if they really served a navigation purpose.The route along the Lachine canal is the reason for the topic of this entry.

The canal opened in 1825 following four years of construction. It allowed ships to reach the great lakes by by-passing the Lachine rapids. When you visit Montreal one of the things you can do is to take a jet-boat tour of the rapids. Anyone who is even remotely interested in the development of industry in North America should take the tour. It's really the only way to see the rapids and to get an idea of their size and of the barrier they pose to navigation. There are standing waves in the rapids that are more than 12 feet tall from trough to crest.

The Lachine canal quickly became a hub for Canadian industry during the industrial revolution. The opening of the St-Lawrence Seaway in 1959 signaled the end of the canal's usefulness. It was closed to all traffic in 1970 and the industrial buildings that lined the canal were slowly abandoned and decayed.
The federal government has since rehabilitated the canal first as a cycle path, and more recently, rehabilitated the locks and re-opened the canal to pleasure craft. The canal now offers a very pleasant route for pleasure boats to get from Lake Saint-Louis right down to the Old Port in Old Montreal. With that rehabilitation of the canal, many of the century-old warehouses have been converted to trendy lofts. Buildings that were not suited to residential conversion have been demolished all along the canal and brand new condos have sprouted.









The last few mornings I have ended my commute at a Van Houtte coffee shop about a block from my office. It's good place to read the Financial Post and enjoy my first of the many cups of coffee I am addicted to. Last riding season I would get there by taking a BIXI bike from the commuter train to the BIXI stand across from the coffee shop. This year I park the Vespa on the corner.Either way, I strongly prefer commuting on two wheels.

For the next little while, the BIXIs will playing a much more secondary role as I continue to explore the many urban pleasures that the Vespa affords.