Modern Vespa

For those wondering and waiting, I am alive and home safely. I have triumphed over time, space, wind, sleep, exhaust gaskets, potholes, approximately 37,492 small insects, and (most of all) common sense.

Details to follow sometime tomorrow.

You must have missed the one just below the headlight on the right side.

looking forward to your story

good to know that you're back in one piece.
musta been one hell of a ride!

best,
-greasy

I'm intrigued... and glad to hear you made it back alright. Sounds like everyone had a great time even with issues coming up...

Can't wait to hear more! It all sounds very interesting.

At least they were small ones, we have some pretty big ones down here.

Thank you, Jess !! Thank you , thank you, thank you
The patches are in Romania, got them

Welcome back, alive and kickin'.

Sounds like you had quite the trip! Glad that you are alive and can't wait to read the full account.

Glad you m made it back safely, my brutha. Now sleep, sleep. sleep!

Bravo!!!!!

R

8)

Can't wait to hear the stories.

Glad you are back.

props

Awesomeness. Bravo!!!

I can't believe you can type after all that riding!!!



Mel

good to know yer still alive, brother.

I actually spent a good amount of time in Chicago thinking about how you musta been having a blast.

Jess wasn't typing; he was playing with his iPhone once more before hitting the sack!

Glad you made it home in one piece after the turbo-ride down I-5. We'll await news at 11.

Aww geez! He wasn't iPhoning and riding now, was he?



Mel

Congrats. Now comes the worst part getting the bugs OFF the scoot

So glad to hear you made it home safe, Jess! What happened to trucking it home? It was great to see you this weekend...can't wait to hear about your trip back!

Okay, details.

Originally, I had intended to truck my scooter back home after Amerivespa. The ride up the coast was a wonderful four-day journey through fantastic scenery, and I knew the ride home wouldn't live up to that unless I took a lot of time and went a scenic route. Bombing down I-5 just didn't sound like a very fun time.

Through the whole Amerivespa rally, though, I was contemplating riding home. One day, two days, or maybe ride part of the way and truck the rest. I talked to various friends about their plans and toyed with options.

I finally opted to ride as far as Eugene with ritchj, who was going to do the whole trip in one day.

So at 6:00am, ritchj and I rolled out of Seattle straight down I-5. I knew it would be less spectacular than the ride up, but I really wanted to ride, ride ride. This leg of the trip was pretty uneventful, and we rolled into Eugene a scant 5 hours later. It seemed pretty effortless, actually -- even though we had been riding straight for an extended period of time, I felt great, it wasn't even noon yet, and I wanted more.

I called my wife (somewhere en route to Eugene in the truck) and said I felt great and that I thought I could get home tonight. She gave me the okay (I think she might regret that now) and said she would stay over in Eugene as planned.

So, Ritchj and I pressed on.

All morning it had been overcast and moderately cold. Once we got within site of the California border, though, we could feel the hot air blowing our direction, and stopped and shed some layers and had some lunch.

Once we crossed the California border and headed toward the Mt Shasta area, my bike started getting slow. The fuel injection system on the GTS does not completely compensate for all the effects of altitude, and there were some flat sections where I could barely manage 60mph. Ritch didn't have any problems on his Scarabeo 500, but he had twice the CCs as my GTS. I started feeling guilty about slowing him down. He had a ride planned, and I was tagging along, and now I was going slow. Sorry, Ritch.

But then my bike started getting even slower, even as we shed some of our altitude. At the 3,000 foot mark, going downhill, I could only manage 55. Sucktastic on a freeway with a 70mph speed limit. I'm guessing a combination of a strong headwind, a gas-soaked evap system (mine is still intact) and who knows what else. It was very much like riding a restricted bike, as if the engine computer was using the wrong mapping or something. I stopped briefly and opened the gas tank to relieve some of the vacuum (which was in fact present) but the bike still rode like ass for the next 10 or 20 miles, with the engine never revving beyond 6 or 7k.

And then it started riding a little better, just magically, with no apparent rhyme or reason. I still don't know what happened. I still had a nasty headwind to deal with, and I could still only manage 60 to 65 going into it, but at least I could descend down the steep grades at 81, hitting the rev limiter. When I wasn't hitting the rev limiter, I was still getting occasional momentary losses of power, the hesitation at non-rev-limit speeds that many of you (myself included) have experienced before. I'm still convinced the problem lies in the intact evap system, but I haven't carried out the experiments.

Finally, we got to the flat and straight part of I-5 going South through California. My bike was still fairly slow due to the headwind, but I was moving along. On the road, we saw Bosco in his truck (with scooters on the back) and Phil and Naomi in their Honda Element. I saw Phil and Naomi pull into a rest stop, so I followed in after them to say hi.

And when the highway noise subsided as I rolled into the parking lot, I heard that bitchin' Scorpion pipe sound from my scooter. Only I don't have a Scorpion pipe.

So yeah, blown exhaust gasket. This particular muffler / stub pipe combo came off of my Cannonball bike, and I personally installed the two-part combo onto my red GTS, taking care not to compromise the factory-installed gasket. I had inspected it and found it to be well-seated and below the lip of the outer pipe.

Still, 12 solid hours of riding, the last 5 in 100+ degree heat, at altitude, going into a headwind, at WFO, proved to be too much for it. I was lying on the hot pavement in a California rest stop, underneath my bike, looking up at about 1/4" of gasket sticking out of the outer pipe. Suck. One hundred and twenty miles North of Sacramento. Double suck.

So Phil and Naomi followed me while I rode from the rest stop the nearest shopping center, we parked the bike, and they took me into Round Table Pizza and had dinner while I cooled off. I hadn't really realized how warm my body had gotten, slowly baking in my shop jacket in the 100 degree heat. I didn't feel like I was in danger of heat stroke or anything, but I realized I really should cool down before doing anything else.

I called Lucky Bastard, who happens to live in Sac, happens to be my Bastard Brother, and happens to have a trailer. I was figuring he could haul me back to Sac and I could leave my scooter there and figure a way home, but he suggested that he bring his newly-painted orange GT60 to me, swap bikes, and I could continue on the ride home. I was dumb enough to think that sounded like a pretty sweet idea.

So a couple hours later, Lucky rolls up with his GT60. We swap, I throw some stuff in the underseat pet warmer, and off I go. Into that same stinking headwind. At 61mph. The sun has gone down by now, but the bugs are out in force, and they're slamming into me like little insect kamikaze pilots. I mean, my visor was covered with them. And my jacket. And Lucky's scooter. Ick.

At this point, having rested and cooled down some, I'm feeling pretty good again. I know it's a long way home from here, and it's night time, and the scooter won't go very fast, and I've got a daytime smoke-tinted visor on my helmet, and I can't really see the road very well with the fenderlight headlight on the GT60. And there's a lot of construction, too. Joy.

I spent a lot of time being really thankful for that reflective stripe on the back of my Corazzo shop jacket. Bradford, you da man.

I finally get to the 505 split, a desolate road that sidesteps Sacramento and gives me a slight shortcut to I-80. The headwind becomes less in my face as I headed SW, and then becomes a gale-force from the left side going West on 80. All the while, I'm dodging potholes that I can't see, bouncing around a lot, and going much slower than the speed limit, in the dark. Another bridge, another gusty mountain pass, and I'm finally looking at the edge of the Bay Area proper. 800 miles, 18 hours, and two bikes.

I've never been so happy to see Richmond in my whole life.

Pretty sure it's gonna stay that way

Wow, Jess, that sounds crazy. Makes me worried about the ride to Tahoe now, given teh elevation issues. Rejetting, gonna be fun!

I'm glad you're in one piece, and that sounds like you really pushed yourself more than you have before. Proud of ya

Special thanks to ritchj for letting me tag along, waiting for me when my scooter was broke, and generally being a good sport.

Props to Phil and Naomi for supervising me long enough to tell whether I was punch-drunk from the road or not. Thanks for being there.

And a double-helping of thanks to Lucky for spending hours getting to and from where I broke down, generously giving me his own scooter so I could continue the ride, and encouraging me to carry on with my endeavor.

You all rock.

Hardass.


Kudos to you,my friend.

Wow, what a story!! I'm so glad you made it back in one piece!!

I think I have to call you Evil "Road Warrior" Bastard now.

I hope you're getting some much deserved rest!



Mel

Not sure that ever happens...I think Owen still has Oregon bugs on his scooter from the Cannonball!

Outstanding quote of the day from the ride:

"You two look old enough to know better."

(spoken by a CHP officer we met during a fuel stop, when we told him we were en route from Seattle to the Bay Area on scooters).

Dude, you're crazy. The "good" crazy.

Way to put a couple Vespas (and yourself) through a real workout.

Chapeau!

THAT is hilarious!!!



Mel

If he was on a bike, you should have pointed out his open face helmet and short-sleeved shirt and said the same back to him.

(not a slight to the open-faced helmet crowd-I'm too ugly to wear one)

Man, you deserve some sort of commemorative patch! Something like: Hard Head, Hard Butt, Hard Ride!!!"

My longest ride on my ET4 was San Diego to Santa Barbara.

Victor

HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

That's fantastic

Wow Jess! That is one hella story. I really am impressed with the ride.

I also am impressed (again) with the scooter community. They showed again what scootering is and should be about. Very high props to all involved, Beale.

wow jess, that's an amazing story. glad you made it back safe and in one piece ya bastard!

Bless!

200 more miles and it would have been an iorn butt ride. Glad you made it back safe. That wind was also effecting my gas/diesel milage by 3 mpg.

Jesse, what a saga--! So glad your MV and RBSC peeps were there to help out--- Goodonya, bro!

--Deborah

Yeah, that was fun

With a start time of about 6AM or so, and a home time of 9:08PM it wasn't bad. My body is ready for more - although after the homecoming I received just inside the back door - I'm stayin' here for a while, until she gets tired of me. 8)

Max my dog is female, and wow she was excited to see me, at 80 pounds she spent the entire night trying to get into my lap or climb me to lick my face and brought me all of her toys. What were you thinking? The greeting from my wife wasn't bad either.

I wasn't being held back by you Jess, it was more of a two is safer than one logic thing- you know 'a witness,' and yes the blue Honda Element jackhole almost tried to kill me later too.

After Jess accepted my suggestion I take off and get home (hey, Phil and Naomi were there and Lucky was on the way) I really did go WFO - I was pretty tired, but somehow not as hot as Jess looked in his riding gear compared to the banana suit - must be why bananas are so tasty and healthy. I'll check the GPS to see top and average speed for that section...

Yes as the officer suggested, we are old enough to know better, especially when both of us have motorcycles, each with about three times the CC's as our respective scooters. But then there would have been no chance of a challenge - anyone can do it on an entertainment system couch built on two wheels thing. Takes a real nut to do it with something the displacement the size of a Red Bull.

Two bits of scariness for me on the trip: Once I'm in the sit mode, the first two or three hours are uncomfortable, and I'm antsy, so I stretch my legs and shuffle around a lot. After three hours, I'm ready to go, and another 10 or 12 hours isn't bad.

I was doing this stretching on the freeway between gas stops. When it was time for the next gas stop, I came to a full stop, hit something with my right foot as I picked it up from stopping. I turned around to see a dark 4" square (or so I thought) cube on the ground. Took a quick inventory - GPS still there, camera still zipped in - must not have seen it when I pulled up to the stop.

Get to the gas station, de-glove, de-helmet, de-balaclava, pull the ear plugs, and at that point Jess is done fueling. I reach into pocket #14 for my wallet, and the pocket is already unzipped and my wallet is gone.......

After stretching my legs for 120 or so miles, my wallet chose to fall out of the unzipped (I forgot) banana suit pocket at the top of the off-ramp within sight of the gas station. I was already tired, and mentally not ready for a crisis so Jess suited back up and went and picked it up.

My other scary moment was the crosswind on 680 South just before the Carquinez bridge - had to be gusting at 60 MPH, I was leaning into it, more than the bike leans when it is on the side stand. That was the hardest part of the ride. Thirteen miles of feeling like riding at a 45 degree angle getting tossed around like a kite at the beach.

I passed a guy on a Ducati Multistrada. A couple of minutes later he's next to me looking over the scoot, made me wish I had a sign on the back that said Seattle to Bay Area with an elapsed time display on the back. I thought 'You Dakar dreaming yuppie Mo Fo, where did you go on you POS poser candy ass $22k fake dirt bike that looks amazingly clean you prick - is it even broken in yet is it - does your wife know you own it or is it stored at a buddies house, you big chicken...'(I was tired and kinda cranky) I expected him to flip me off and wheelie away while splitting lanes between a church bus full of handicapped nuns, and the truckload of highway maintenance goats causing both to swerve and crash into a day care center.

With the glow of my new Zumo 550 (Thanks Curt for the review and suggestion) he gave me what I think was a legitimate big smile and a big thumbs up - must have been the 60# of luggage, and inch thick coating of bug guts on the front, and ground squirrel chunks on the bottom. Ground squirrels are the reason to avoid 505 at dusk and dawn. Then he took off like I was sitting still.

I owe MV some gear reviews - my Givi saddle bags, tunnel case, and tail bag, as well as the other tail bag I bought. And probably a write up on the Scarabeo now that it is 18 days old and has 3k miles on it.

That was my plan, but it was a little more than we should have done after such a full week of riding. I had all the documents and route ready for us and the ride, but thought it wasn't safe because of the previous seven days of riding, and short night (for me anyways - 4.5 hours of eyelid inspection) and the long day before. That's what this coming weekend is for.

Even with the little yellow butterflies flitting about as you passed Lisa and I in the truck, I was full of envy. Makes me want to do an iron butt on my small frame. I entertained myself the rest of the way home with ideas of how to make it possible.

Good to hear you guys are home safe! We're currently at the Oroville Casino/Hotel. 750 miles in two days. 500 or so more to get home. We're no iron-butts...

Where did we pass you? I was on the lookout for people I knew, but I only saw Bosco and then Phil and Naomi.

Rachael apparently ran into Linda and Kevyn randomly at a rest stop 80 miles South of Eugene and they exchanged the latest gossip.