My "Special" Vespa

I liked this photo from last weekend for how the color of 'Ol Blue looked against the color of the sky in the background. This was taken last Sunday before we had the change in weather that brought a series of storms through western Washington that included winds of 60+ mph, thunderstorms with hail, and "cow peeing on a flat rock" rain. In a nutshell, the weather sucked.

Since Port Angeles is tucked nicely in the rain shadow of the Olympic Mountains, storms blowing in from the south generally split around the Olympics, and the wrath is more intensely felt to the east and west of us. This is how it went on Wednesday and Thursday, so we ended up being spared the full brunt of the winds. If the systems roll from the west down the Strait of Juan De Fuca, we usually take it like a punch to the forehead. The forecast for the next week calls for better, "more seasonal conditions."

This junk didn't stop most of the cronies from riding every day though. JayBee wrapped up in the fishtail parka and sloshed his way to work, as did Slim Jim on my old Helix. I was able to get my pant cuffs wet a few times as well on the BR. As long as nobody sends out the message to stop riding, I guess we'll stay the course.

For as long as I've had the Vespa, I hadn't ridden on the highway at any time. I've gotten my fix by riding pretty much in town, and on some close-by country roads with slower speed limits. I really wanted to see what its limitations would be if I were to put it in a commuting situation. So I rode out to work yesterday to find out.

I needed to drop an item off at work, and I would normally ride the Big Ruckus out or drive out, as I do this every Sunday. This trip would be the first for Ol' Blue. It was time to stop worrying about the rain and wet, and how filthy my old scoot would get, and just get out there and ride the darn thing. I've never owned a motorbike that I wouldn't ride in the wet before, so why am I treating the Vespa any different? Riding in the rain is part of the gig around here. So with my old school parka zipped up tight, we headed out.

The best thing about the ride to work on Sunday is the lack of traffic. Either folks are at home, or in church, so the streets are pretty much empty till around noon. This made for a much more relaxed ride, and I was able to putt along quite nicely. The exception was the guy in the red Mazda pick-up that stayed next to me for about 3 blocks that kept looking over at me like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He finally turned into a coffee stand, and I headed down the Baker Street dip. This "dip" is where I would first encounter a real hill to climb.

I tried to build up a head of steam on the downhill so I could blast up the other side. Well, there was no "blasting" up the other side, but I made it without having to shift into third gear, so now I know what to expect. I've never pushed the Vespa this hard before, and I'm happy to know that it will handle the job. I don't want to make a habit out of doing it though. Taking it out in crummy conditions is one thing, flogging the whiz out of it is another. I still look at the GT as a "special" little scooter, and really don't want to abuse it. But at least I know now that it will do the job if called on.

After making my quick visit to work, we retraced the route home with no problems. Mission accomplished. In all the years that I've been riding, and on all of the motorbikes I've ridden, this little jaunt was a new adventure. Most anybody would look and say "So what?" "It's no big deal to ride a scooter through town." But for me it was special. I was reminded of a time when I was about ten years old, and I rode my bicycle across town. It was a big adventure for me, and with my parents approval, I succeeded in making it to my destination. And when I turned to make the long ride back, I realized that I was exhausted, and hadn't planned on having to ride all the way back home. Parked just down the road from me was the family station wagon. My folks had followed me without me even knowing it. I was triumphant though, and they let me know how proud they were that I had made it. After loading the bicycle into the car, we drove over to my grandparents house to share my great story. How ironic that my grandparents house is the same house that we now own, and are raising our kids in. Maybe that is why this simple little ride on my Vespa reminded my of that great day. Both rides took me to the same place, and both rides gave me the same good feelings.

Isn't it something that forty years can pass, and a memory can return so vividly? I pulled my scooter in, in the exact same spot that my parents parked their car all those years ago. And I walked in the same back door to tell my wife about my scooter ride, that I had walked in to tell my grandmother about my bicycle ride. Who says that you "can't go back." I did, and I did it on my Vespa scooter. Did I mention that I think it's "special?"

Have fun,
Bill