Modern Vespa

Thanks! Gnawing at my leg to get back out there today or this weekend.

...stumbled across some local historical info a couple days ago describing how there was a whole town out where that cemetery is now, as well as a couple others near there that have utterly disappeared without a trace....

td,

You're an artist. I know you don't create the landscapes and clouds, but you sure capture them unbelievably well!!

Please keep it coming!

BTW, considering your penchant for cemeteries, I'm not sure if you know about findagrave.com, but I use it for almost all of my cemetery searches. Great for digging a bit deeper (THAT was unintentional ) on interesting graves. I found an old, hidden family plot less than a mile from my house that I never knew about before....and a large one in a woods I'd driven past for years.

Thanks much!

Excellent, and it looks like it comes in an app! ...I know there are dozens of these nearly abandoned sites around here and I've only scratched the surface, so this is perfect.


I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.

-- T.S. Eliot

Speaking of April's cruelty....

Some bliss, some brushes with mortality, and some of the most terrifying winds I stupidly rode right into.

And now, nothing but rain in the forecast for the forseeable future....


Friday: The dusty gravel taketh, the dusty gravel giveth.

Friday: Same valley four miles deeper.

Friday: How green was my valley?

Saturday: congratulating myself on the rain having passed, I stupidly failed to realized it was being pushed by 30 mph winds -- terrifying ride home!

Chores done, break in the rain...? Well, why not?

And wet roads means dustless gravel, so two hours of gravel grinding. One, big, long, grin.

Seem to be nursing a barn fetish these days.

The journey is wherever the road is headed, I suppose: Grand Plans to ride the region's most highly rated twisty down to Orofino; temps forecast in the low 60s; nothing but blue skies as I set out about 10:00 AM; and I had high hopes that the past four months of winter had tamed the crap "chip seal" job they'd done on the road last July, which had turned the creamy turns into a gravel laden nightmare.

And so it rolled for the first hour -- little breeze, smooth running, I pulled onto a highway right behind two Harleys and when we all three wound down to the next town and stopped together at the Stop sign, one guy gave me a huge, shit-eating grin and wave as we forked in different directions, as if to say "Ha! A Vespa keeping up with us -- that's so awesome!" Hey, if we can't all laugh at ourselves, why bother, right?

Then awesome twisties up the next canyon, swooping thru the next prairie and then Shit! -- the chip sealed section was utter crap; scraped to hell by snowplows through our endless record winter.

Bumpy, sketchy, slippery...crappy: the plow blade had basically turned the entire highway to washboard, leaving the scraped off gravel scattered randomly, coiled vipers awakening from winter slumber, ready to strike.

So after about ten miles I detoured onto some old pavement I assumed would soon turn to gravel...but it didn't! Slow riding on bad road but beautiful long visas, none of which I could really catch on camera.

And a new cemetery under broad, sunny skies -- popping out my earplugs to a symphony of birdsong.... What a stunning mountain prairie surrounded on four sides by canyons. So green the sky itself seemed to vibrate.

"Meh" riding the rest of the day -- so much gravel on all the turns: we don't salt out here and the roads become so iced over that they literally gravel the turns instead of salting them. And the clouds rolled in....

And I can pretty much assume they won't fix this stretch of road for a year or two. There's gonna be some mighty disappointed Butler map riders!

But, still, for half an hour, at least, I had heaven.

This is material for an exhibition!
Paintings of light and color...
This is not only art, this is drama, in-depth and as such a mirror for the soul!

Thanks tDrake for sharing!

Thanks much! It only took me 32 years to get around to fulfilling this absurd fantasy of riding a Vespa around my own private Idaho.

The semester's nearly wound itself down and after a wet, cold weekend spent in my office grading a seemingly endless pile of papers (who the hell assigned all this crap, anyway?), I played hookie today and rode North and West for three and half hours to see a beautiful cemetery a friend said I should check out.

Oh, man, what a beautiful spot, tucked into a micro forest out among the fields, and quite large considering its isolation. Once again I'm reminded that there were once towns in these lonely places.

Unlike every other rural yard I've visited out here, this one has been allowed to go to seed, and so the stones are tucked in among the shrubs and tall, thick-waisted pines, each, I assume, dating back about 100 years.

"Zips" really fits!

Been feeling a hella long ways from London and Paris the past five days back in town....

Great rides and photos. Cemeteries have got me thinking of new places to stop. Especially on the oyster tours where I have ridden many times and always looking for something new to seek out. Riding up to NC next week and if I throw in some dirt nap hotels I could stretch the ride into a month.

Seeing Zips reminds me to ask, have you been to the paupers graveyard on the outskirts of Cheney?

No but it sounds interesting. Do you remember what it's actually named?

As I recall it wasn't named and barely marked. Next to or behind a small RV park at one end of town in the scrub pines next to the railroad tracks. The town cemetery is across the road up the hill and is a bit more scenic. Worth a visit on a nice day. I have rarely visited since graduating high school there back in '88.

Cool and thanks! I'll hunt for it and know some folks who either live or used to live up there that I can ask. ....actually recently stumbled onto a really obscure lil hidden highway heading up that way, snaking out of Colfax....

Time to get caught up! Between logging too many miles and nights away from home via trains, planes and automobiles and an early heat wave, the summer riding wound up turning sporadic. But when the getting was good I got far, opting for long rides to destinations both near and far...as in local but within a long or full day's ride.

GT200 has still performed flawlessly as it nears 20k!


My beautiful Palouse. June 16th.

Nez Perce, Idaho. June 17th.

Camas Prairie. June 17th.

Fourth of July Americana.

Lake Coeur d'Alene. July 5th.

"Bovill Idaho Opera House, built 1910". The rest of the "town" is in similar shape. July 5th.

When I first looked into the Vespa my Big Plan was to trailer past the local highway miles and ride the sweeter spots, a plan that quickly fell aside as I realized that a) I could simply ride past those miles (yay Vespa!) and I hate dragging a trailer around.

However, earlier this week I decided to finally give the trailering plan a try, throw in some camping, and hit a couple rides that would otherwise take me days to reach and require carrying a fair amount of spare gas. Also, despite the V's flawless performance, the thought of weighing it down with camping gear and gas and water and riding 300 miles in 100 degrees weather still seems daunting, or stupid, or at least not too fun -- I mean, I've done it once, but it requires fairly Spartan camping, slow hills, and the fear of stranding myself a long, long way from cell service.

Started writing up the deets but screw it: I trailered some, I rode a bunch, trailered some more, rode some more ...hit some really stunning roads BUT also found myself driving/trailering over some also stunning roads, kicking myself along the way...and all in all probably drove seven hours and rode six and I don't think I'll do it again. By this time of year, after all the previous miles, I pretty much hate driving, so, yeah, it worked, but was it worth it? Meh.

Day one: up the Lochsa to Lolo Pass. Someday I'd like to keep going and overnight in Missoula. http://www.motorcycleroads.com/75/185/Idaho/The-Lolo-Pass.html

Day two: the old, winding, Whitebird Pass highway. http://roadsnw.com/rnw/20

The Whitebird area sits along Little Big Horn in the Indian War histories and is, at least earlier in the year when it's green, one of the most beautiful and moving areas I've been. Turns out its old winding highway offers fecking fantastic as well!


Bridge to Ohare campground, Selway River. June 10th.

hashtag #stupidshiticannowsayivedone June 10th.

Heading back down the Lochsa at twilight -- nobody on the road but me and the bugs. June 10th.

Summit of old Whitebird Pass and getting ready for the twistiest descent in the state. Hells yeah! June 11th.

Old Whitebird Pass highway. Fuck yeah! Awesome riding! June 11th.

Whitebird Idaho. 95 degrees and white trash paradise.

Last of the green wheat before everything goes golden -- or brown, depending on one's mood.

Haven't checked in in a while. Nice shots! Love that one back a ways with your scooter against the grain storage in Nez Perce....well, the rest are pretty good too!

I'm impressed by the number of things you find to match your scooter color!

I suspect that by this time next week nothing around here will match my scooter...until about next April. Sigh. But the color has slowly grown on me, I'll admit, and when I took it camping last week it sorta glowed in the twilight among the big trees and, I gotta admit, I just sat there and stared lovingly upon it.

A fair amount of riding but it's not a very picturesque time here, unless you go a little apocalyptic, which yesterday I did: got up early to minimize the heat (but not the smoke), did a lil white knuckle highway driving to get there, and then dropped down 2,000 feet, where it would eventually get up to 106, via the most excellent Spiral Highway to Lewiston/Clarkston, Hell's all their own.

http://roadsnw.com/rnw/15

Fricken awesome twisties and pretty much all my own, so I rode down, I rode back up, and then I rode back down ...and then had a long, flat, straight stretch back along the Snake. Neeeearly smucked Bambi on the way back out and dragged myself thru some of the uglier parts of our otherwise beautiful area...hard to say whether the ride was worth it: three and a half hours of crappy riding for about 45 minutes of bliss....

Nice Saturday ride out into the heart of rural America, which, I think, may have heart disease.

...and I'm not just talking obesity, but poverty. Maybe I was blind to it when I first moved up here, over thirty years ago, but I doubt it -- the working mills have largely closed and the towns, or what's left of them, are literally crumbling and haunted by preppers. There's a weird meanness I don't remember.

Anyway, thru Bovill (pop 300) and out to Elk River (pop 200), where the vehicle of choice is a quad or razor and camo is de rigueur. Don't think they've seen a lot of Vespas and everyone there made a point of pretending not to see mine. The cafe I used to love had closed and the old school house, its size a remnant of a once larger town, where my riding buddy staged a play 20 years ago when it was a budding arts and culture center, is, well, you can see the pic below.

Ok, then back thru Deary (pop 500) where we were stopped by the Deary Days Parade: one fire engine, a handful of horses, a logging truck, and a hay wagon...but the whole district had turned out and that was cool (more camo!), but here the sweet part:

A group of Mennonites recently transformed a dilapidated, abandoned bank building into a cafe/creamery/pizza place where they sell artisan cheese...and the usual espresso, cold press coffee and stuff, and freakin' awesome, awesome chi chi sammiches. I had hot brie and roast beast and roasted garlic...jayzus it was good. About a dozen seemingly related, uber clean cut Mennonites busily running the place with machine-like efficiency...such a far cry from the trailers and lawn trash so familiar out here.

Also, Mennonite women are hot. Sorry, but it's true. If I weren't such a sinner I think I coulda gone over to their side. For decades I've noticed that the line between Mennonites and rural hipster/hippies is razor thin, especially when the Mennonites are pushing such high quality foodie food. This place would utterly thrive in downtown Portland or Seattle and I only wish it the best of luck out here where only the darkest bars seem to survive.

Anyway, great day rooting around in the largely forgotten or ignored corners of our country. My bud's flamed cruiser proved a more fitting subject for today's scenery, especially given the heat and smoke.


Huckleberry season. Elk River Idaho.

The state of education in Idaho.







Bovil Opera House.

August, you soul-killer.

I love summer, until I don't. Or maybe I love spring and its promise for the potential of summer, but by August that promise has gone up in smoke, literally, from the dozens of regional forest-fires driving this deep, blood-red-sun haze, and the temps in the upper 90s that make riding, or any other outdoor activity, more pain than pleasure.

I'm privileged to the point of being spoiled and then some: for the past decade I've had my summers off and enough cash in pocket to spend them travelling and working on my house. In the past that used to also mean camping a bunch with my kid, and then, when she outgrew me, an obscene number of mornings mountain biking, until my body outgrew biking. Now I can ride the Vespa to my heart's content.

But here's the thing, at some point the heart is content. It's full. It's done staring at itself. It is, I dare say, bored.

By August I've done enough navel gazing to last if not a lifetime at least until next May. So, bring on the clowns, and the stress, and the brain full to brimming. I'm open, empty and ready.

I think I understand how you feel... But just remember... When you stop taking your summer day trips and posting your great pictures, the rest of us will be bored...

And then some days, some days are magical....

Our heat and smoke spell broke and broke hard over the weekend, with rain, real rain, and the highs dropped a good twenty degrees, so that instead of heading out early to beat the heat I’ve been riding in the mid-60s to 70s under blue, blue, blue.

About 45 minutes in to what I thought was bound to be a ho hum cruise thru the familiar: magic; all it takes it turning left where you normally turn right. I thought “this road will turn to gravel right up around the corner…” as they always do. But it didn’t and I spun on, thinking “this road will turn to gravel after a mile…” …and then five miles. … But on and on it went, following the river, winding up the canyon, back down to the river…back up….

I realized I had no idea where I was going. I realized I've missed that feeling.

Seventy degrees. Little traffic. Blue skies. No idea what is around the next turn. I stopped to take a pic of the road and glanced down to see that someone had erected a little, wire sculpture growing out of a chunk of granite. What the f---?? Who does that? What are the odds that I’d see it?

And so it went for ten miles, and when the gravel ran out I was back on the prairie, sighting a lonely old church – the Gold Hill church, erected 1908 – where, I learned, there’d once been a mining town.

Open, of course, and so I entered. Surprisingly still in use. A lonely piano asking me to play it a bit.

Mid-way thru playing I heard someone enter. We chatted for twenty minutes…. I stepped outside to soak in the view and listen to the wind. My god I didn’t want to leave.

But the bliss followed me home, even thru the familiar twists and turns and vistas. I couldn’t stop loving the fields and the sky, the blues and browns and the last of the green.

You head out your door for one hundred times for the once or twice it all comes together, and when it does, it fuels the next hundred times….

Twenty second video https://www.facebook.com/tomdrakemusic/videos/10101294546246144/

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Top of the grade, end of the pavement -- could that be a chapel?

Gold Hill Church. c. 1908

Along this most of obscure of rural routes, someone erected this tiny sculpture set in stone.

Bliss.

Riding the high all the way home.

[quote="OldCoot"] Thanks! I truly appreciate that.

Beautiful weather this weekend but today may be given over to recovering from last night's five-house cocktail-party, of which we only careened through three.

Which was apparently two too many. You know you're getting old when you can't keep up with the forty-year-olds.

When you stay sober on a Friday night just so you can get out on the V....

Appreciate your thoughtfulness and sobriety. Great pictures as usual.

Well, I've had a long run of "if it's not one thing it's another" keeping me from riding. First it was the heat and "hazardous" air warnings due to so many forest fires. Then I got out for one nice evening ride (below) and was sooo excited to be back in the saddle. But...the very next day I broke one of my freakin' toes -- learn from my errors, my friends, and always wear steel-toed safety boots. At least when making the bed, cuz that's when I tripped on a fecking chair...that's been in that same spot for a fecking decade!

Anyway, couldn't really walk much or ride at all for a week but then decided to tough it out last Saturday...only to burn thru my exhaust gasket and, thusly, burn up my rear brake line on the way home.

Ok, quickly ordered the parts by early Saturday eve with hopes to get back on the road the following (this coming) weekend!

Only to receive an email on Monday that the parts dudes were at a conference and wouldn't ship until Friday. Uh, couldn't have told me that BEFORE I ordered so that I could order from another vendor???

So I'm losing another two weeks during these perfect, beautiful, early fall days.

Ok, sorry -- had to get all that off my chest. I suppose the longer I've had to wait, the sweet it'll be.





Last edited by tdrake on Thu Oct 05, 2017 7:25 am; edited 1 time in total

Back in the saddle!

So much pain in this world, such heartbreaking headlines...there is no way I could justify blowing off a Tuesday afternoon to go for a nice, long ride through a perfect, beautiful, blue-sky, fall day.

But I did it anyway.

And for three and a half hours I experienced utter bliss -- easily one of the best rides of the year.

I'd paid my dues at work and was caught up; paid my dues wrenching for hours on the V to get it up and running again; and the monkey mind was calm and receptive, open to the day rather than recycling its worries.

Happiness is a fresh exhaust gasket and tightly torqued seals, and well fitted ear-plugs, and that new Faco dual screen to tweak until the height it just right.

And all of last winter's snow-gravel purged from the corners...and 55-60 degrees and a break in the fall rain, so that the summer smoke is long gone and the parched vistas have a hint of green again.

...and heated grips on low, and two wool shirts, a fleece AND a down puffy beneath a heavy riding coat...and GoGoGear leggings under Carhartts....

The mind attuned, the tires good, the Vespa on rails around each turn....

Even the one pickup that drifted into my lane around a narrow turn gave me a friendly wave that wiped away all the those reminders back home, on the news, of how briefly we are blessed to occupy this world.

Took a bunch of pics but nothing really captured it. In fact, this one shows how our roads are, actually, crap. But they are wide open and wind thru a country I can't help but love.

Nice

Cold front blowing in....

Snow in the forecast for tonight and the days are growing short, trees in full fall "blossom" before we're plunged into the long, cold, darkness...so I've been riding at every chance with passion. In many ways, even knowing what's around the corner, this is my favorite time of year.

Well, second favorite, at least.


Burnout. October 11.

Eyeing the descent. October 8.

So many twists. October 8.

One fate awaits us all. October 8.

Before the rapture. October 11.

David vs. Goliath. October 11.

tdrake,

I always enjoy your exceptional photos. That is a lot of open space.
My scooter group predominantly rides out of the city to enjoy the
countryside. This does not compare to the vastness of your surroundings.

Keep the photos coming, be safe. If you went off the road and fell into
a raven, we might never find you.

Bob Copeland
Turning cold in Minnesota

Ravens are pretty hard to get into, Bob....now ravines, that's another story.

Sorry, couldn't help myself.

Thanks Dave,

I did struggle in the 3rd Reading Group in the 4th Grade.

Bob Copeland
Minnesota