Modern Vespa

We did until she read the lyrics and declared "I can't sing this. This song it is depressing!!". I had never paid attention to the lyrics but she was right, they are depressing. Needed Stephanie's positive outlook on life to bring it to our attention. A good time was had by all.

Arch Friends and My Favorite Museum Ever in St Louis. May 25 - 30, 2015.



I was too tired and missed visiting Saint Louis the first time around when I was headed west. This time I reached out to Myke, and he had a place for me to stay a whole week!


I love the name of the scooter rally in St Louis: Missouri Loves Company.


The last time I saw an analog pump was either in the desert, or near the GA/FL state line.

There's a very direct route from Memphis to Saint Louis along US-67, but where's the fun in that. Somewhere by Fredericktown I turned off to follow some of the little grey lines I noticed branching off my map. A few small and pleasant towns later, I picked up Old Saint Louis Road. The pavement ended but I embraced the change, figuring the "Impassable During High Water" signs were being hyperbolic. I mean, this road's got Saint Louis in its name, surely I'll end up in the right place?


Adventure! Crossing creek #1.


Creek #2. This one a little hairier to cross.


Creek #3. OK, that's enough adventure for today.
Fast current and big boulders under there. I don't want to have to come back if Creek #4 is bigger.


Back to the main road. Doesn't that sign sound like a challenge to you, though?


Hi, Myke and Brittany! Their 4-car garage is a cave of wonders.

I was welcomed into town by Myke and Brittany, more Bandcamp connections. They just so happened to have an unrented apartment in the city that I could crash in...for a whole week! Thanks, Myke and Brittany!


Indoor camping.

If I could go back, I'd take photos of all the places I've slept as I made my way across the country. Sure, you expect couches, guest rooms, hostel beds, and campsites of both the beautiful and banal varieties. Then, there are the nights I slept in a motordrome, a kid's room (face to face with Emmet from The Lego Movie sheet set), a dorm room (raised XL twin mattress, I never thought I'd see you again), junk rooms, or my current situation; an empty apartment. I call it indoor camping, and I was totally happy to throw my bag down and roll out the sleeping mat.


Myke is tall enough to reach the mulberries in nearby Tower Grove Park.

With a bit of daylight left, Myke took me on a walking tour of the neighborhood and nearby park, then a scooter tour - their old place is still the home of many of their vehicles, and located within easy reach of city life things to do. Then, I was left to my own devices until next we could hang out.


Working from MoKaBe's Coffeehouse. It was a popular java spot for the recent protesters, and there are still signs.


A quick neighborhood change for Mama Toscano's on the Hill.


I heard fried ravioli are a Saint Louis thing, and the internet pointed me to the original.They're awesome, little pillows of meaty, savory goodness, dipped in marinara. Disappeared too fast!


More food with Pat and her wife, introduced by mutual Memphis friends.Provel cheese this time, on a poutine. Double lactase pills time.


Just hanging out in garages with scooterists and a stack of Vespa frames in the corner, move along.


Myke's Fuji Rabbit started first kick!


Werk stuff at Cafe Ventana.

Myke pointed out one of the neat things about Saint Louis is that many museums and other city attractions are subsidized by the city taxes, so admission is free. I decided to check out the zoo, but was soon overwhelmed by the heat, crowds and children. Yep, definitely a zoo.


Nice day for Forest Park though, the park surrounding the zoo.


Making loops in the park.


Liquid nitrogen frozen ice cream, after crashing a rally planning meeting with Myke.


Ices Plain & Fancy looks like a lab.


Night scooter tour of the city with Myke and Brittany.


Preview of what put Saint Louis on the map for me...


Interlude for 1982 V50III.


Followed Elli and Rob to Moto Italia, to have her Stella looked at. We also all went on test rides.


Shakespeare in the park (Antony and Cleopatra) with picnicking pros.
We carried fried chicken, ravioli, sides, local wine, dishware, blankets and a folding table on two scooters.


No visit is complete without a stop at Strange Donuts.


They are pretty strange. We had to try a savory donut, which reminded me of youtiao...but with bacon.

I felt extremely lucky to be introduced to Saint Louis through Myke. A large part of why I enjoyed the city so much was because I could see it through his eyes, and the friends he introduced me to. There were quiet moments of just hanging out at their place, poking around scootery things, perusing their CSA box for food ideas (I wanted to sign up for one in Providence, but there were no options for a single person), or trying local craft beers and drinks. I crashed a rally planning meeting, and several times went on late night rides following his Stella. I'm almost ready to move here just for the scooterists!

Almost (don't worry, the ride goes on). When I started there was an element of shopping for a new city to settle in, sort of interviewing them as I went. But somewhere in the west, months ago, I stopped shopping. Whether it's travel fatigue or a natural evolution, I've also become cooler towards visiting 'the sights'. Increasingly, I just want to see people I like and spend time with them. I forgot that at one point I was even seeking; my most recent city stops have been perfect destinations for just hanging out with friends.

However, there is one sight I had my eye on that's unique to Saint Louis. On Friday night, City Museum would be open until midnight. It's hard to explain City Museum without visiting in person. It's a repurposed space, a huge multi-floor warehouse that's an evolving art project of industrial sculpture and playground combined. A surreal world you can touch, climb, and explore. Myke, Brittany, and I filled up on Korean BBQ and then it was Museum time!

It's positively magical, easily my favorite 'museum' in the world.


It's like driving a flying school bus over Saint Louis.


The bus leans precariously over the edge of the roof. You can spot it in the earlier photo.


It's a carnival with slides and spires...


Brittany climbs.


Myke snapped a photo of us.


Slides and slides!


Superhero Brittany.


Dangling human cage.




AW YEAH.


Tee hee.


Details.


Rainbow colored drink on break. There are three snack areas, one of which has beer...


More details...


Giant hamster wheel!


The bar inside City Museum.


One for you, Chris.


Myke takes some video of us at the No-Skate Skatepark.


Didn't quite make it.


You read that right, a 10 storey slide.


A small space! I must crawl through...

Thoroughly sweaty, muscles wobbly, and covered in a thin film of grime... I love this place. I can't help feeling this is how we're meant to be; curious, inspired and engaged in all the senses, not indolent desk drones. Adults need to play, too.

For my last couple days in Saint Louis, Chris had reached out to me. He just bought a KTM he'd been lusting after, but it was in Milkwaukee... he would have to ride it back to Tulsa. Saint Louis would be just about halfway, so I checked with the landlords and got a roommate for a night! Welcome to indoor camping, Chris.

We did set out of do a bit of touristing, after all.


Arch friends.


You can listen to and read about the building of the arch while waiting for the space pods to the top.


Next stop is Mars, right? Am I in the right pod? Thanks for the photo, Chris.
P.S. That's my terrified face, the pods make disturbing echoing sounds.


This guy again!


It feels a bit like an airplane up here.


Don't look down?


Myke points out landmarks in the city.


Saint Louis side...


Illinois side is so empty.


Back down via a 60s vision of the future.


Breaking gravity after all this space travel.


Addressing gravitational pull in our stomaches at Bogart's Smokehouse.
Myke demonstrates advance level food expertise, I would follow him to all the eats.


Saucy.

We tried to walk off barbecue comas at the nearby farmers market, but I think my memory is blurred by vast amount of meat.


Beer is a digestif, right? Civil Life Brewing Company.



One of Myke's friends was playing surf rock at Venice Cafe, and I can now say: if my spirit animal was a bar, it would be this one. It's like an antique store went drinking with a flea market, and puked up this place. Saint Louis is kicking ass.


Hear no evil, see no evil, poop no evil?


The bartender tells us about caring for the bar snake. I repeat, the bar snake.


Red Ranger is practicing some extreme yoga.


What do I look at now?


Myke climbs things too.


Game night back at Ventana Cafe. The sliders here are great, too.


Goodbye is too soon.

Feeling nicely recharged, Chris and I both packed our bags and had one last coffee together before we rolled separate ways. He mentioned he finally found the wheelie button on his new bike. I'm still looking for mine...

Saint Louis surprised me. It's definitely a 'critical mass' city, lots to do and and good company. I'll just have to come back for a scooter rally some time, I hear they put on a good one.

This makes me think I've never been to Saint Louis. At least, not THIS Saint Louis.

What, really?! There are good scooterists there...

Return to Mad-Town! May 31 - June 9, 2015.



Sometimes it surprises people to learn that in all my trekking across the U.S. I hadn't ridden more than 400 miles in a day - I just don't really want to if I don't have to. I know other GTS riders who have, and a few riders have even suggested the Iron Butt challenges. I do count mileage, but I do it in the same way I track all sorts of things, like places I've slept and food I've eaten.

That being said, it was only a matter of time until I tipped the 400 mile mark. From Saint Louis, MO to Madison, WI, I just didn't feel like stopping for an overnight.


Peaceful riding beside the Mississippi, then it branches off to become the Illinois River
But that doesn't mean I took the most direct route. I immediately hopped state lines to follow the Great River Road, on the empty side of the Mississippi.


Alton Brown mentions the town of Alton in his show, Feasting on Asphalt.I like to think of my ride as the slower, less-informed version.


Joe Page Bridge in Hardin, IL.


What is this, an old paddleboat?


The Goldenrod is an old showboat moored near Pearl, IL.


Sam has arrived early to pump water out of the hull and keep the boat afloat.
He tells me about the boat's ownership dilemma, and working in towns all up and down the Illinois.


Farewell, Illinois, I'll see you again soon enough.


Hello, familiar Wisconsin!


It was along the way.

Generally, geography has taken a comfortable backseat for me. I simple roll with the scenery - when it's nice, it's lovely; when it's boring, I set my cruise assist and blast music. For instance, following the river was nice (though cold when overcast!), then boring, then the region surrounding New Glarus became sweeping curves, low hills, and golden light nice again. Perhaps this is what people mean by the rhythm of the road.

Besides, I could happily exhaust myself eating up miles, because I knew I had a spot on the futon at my sister's and her boyfriend's place in Madison, WI! It was like coming home, but this time to the home my sister is making with Ben. I liked seeing how they settled the place since I helped her move in July of last year.

We set out for a full moon paddle on the lake with Moni's university friends, and discussed topics such as when someone could finally defend their thesis. Ah, I went to art school...


Fires and live music.


Last time, we had separate canoes. This time, my sister sits comfy in the middle.


We forgot bug spray, but the bats flitting across the surface of the water must have been feasting.


Eventually, we paddled all the boats in a lump together and just chatted and floated.
It was like a disfunctional academic Waterworld of Monona Bay.


This is my sister. We spend a lot of time just eating all the things.
Banchan FTW. Sujeo Asian fusion.


Also, thank you, seester, for letting me take over the dining room table for werk!


Back to food. Chez Nanou is one of my sister's favorites.


Trying to walk it off at the Arboretum. Ben stalks wild turkeys.


It's green and hot and I hate wearing sunscreen. Let's get donuts now?


Or ice cream. It seems like it's always a good time for ice cream around here.
Damn, I'm really at a disadvantage in this town.


It's okay because I have a cat to play with.


Hotpot the cat understands me, and my media.


Since I'm 'resting' I finally took some time to apply all the stickers I accumulated.


Also, I caught these adventure riders by chance at Blue Moon on Tuesday night!


How about a shorter kind of adventure...


Thanks, Jeff, here's your bike back. It was good to hang out with you, Slimy Cruds!

In spite of the silly photo above, no one that evening ever told me what bike to ride, or that mine was too small or slow or wrong. It was refreshing to share adventure stories with the Cruds!


Loaded scoot parking on campus while I wait for my sister to drop off her spare key.

Travel fatigue has been setting in sooner, and increasingly I found myself procrastinating on the blog - not because I don't want to write, but because reliving so many rich memories to put them into words...can hurt so good. I feel full to the brim with stories and experiences, but there's a huge queue for processing them.

Perhaps having so many experiences has also contributed to being more at peace with letting things go; I considered taking off a day earlier to take the SS Badger steamboat across Lake Michigan, but was relishing resting too much (also, the ticket was a bit more than I thought). I'll take the boat another day, perhaps. This time, I just want to hang out with my sister.


Farewell again, seester!

Buuut I think my sister must be getting tired of me living on her couch and being the third wheel on her and Ben's dates... So it's a good thing work was worked, rest was rested, and I have a date with a rally around the corner. Next stop: Amerivespa 2015!

Well, among other things: a cool sister you're pretty tight with (I can relate - priceless), so much to see (and show, and tell), and yet you managed some needed downtime, which even - especially? - an itinerant traveler needs.

Still think you need to do a book. It'll happen in time, I'm sure.

Thanks again for your efforts to put these travel stories together.....the pics and the dialogue are great.

Yes, I think a book might be in order.

You are aware of the book Lois Pryce did I guess:

http://www.loisontheloose.com/about-me/

http://www.amazon.com/Lois-Loose-Motorcycle-Across-Americas/dp/0312352212

fried okra

fried okra: I'm reading that book right now! :D

Indy 35mph and Amerivespa. June 10 - 14, 2015.



It's scooter party time! Skip this post if you're sick of seeing photos of a bazillion scooters, or Davide's face. Yep, it's round two of rally-to-rally riding with the crazy Italian on a Beemer. Besides seeing people, the big draw for me this year at Amerivespa was that we'd be allowed on the Indianapolis Motor Speedway?! Rally on...


Forgettable fill-up stop in Illinois is having a party that won't be as good as Amerivespa.


Davide is in! We're splitting a hostel room with Cassie from Memphis.


Where there's Davide, there's Prosecco.Good thing I have this SLAP mug to keep things from getting too classy.

It was great being back in Indianapolis - I actually sort of knew my way around, I could take friends to eat at Yats again, and I'm already familiar with the Indy Hostel.


Scooters accumulate at Nomad's Skate Shop for the long ride.


The 'long ride' being about 150 miles to Shelbyville.


Lunch at Vespa Shelbyville.


The Harley Topper is always an amusement.


Nice sheepskin.


Hexagons remind me of Pete's bike.


Onward.


Break at The Apple Works.


King my apple!


The ride skimmed a couple lakes and was quite nice, but I feel a bit silly; I rode 344 miles through pretty much the same scenery yesterday and yet still went on the long ride...


Fuck waiting in line for gas. I gave the remaining contents of my bottle to a moped on the way back into town.


I like this bike. That's all.


All the gauges.


Hi Jackie (see Seattle) and Cassie (see Memphis)! Davide acquiesces to screw-top Prosecco.


I didn't win anything at the raffle, but tablemate Matt did! He knew he couldn't go so he handed it to me.
I don't know if I can go, but I'll find a home for the $500 gift certificate to the Cross Egypt Challenge. Thanks!!


Canadians look sharp for breakfast at Dreyer's Motorsport.


Alas, breakfast was a bit of a bust, damn scooterists already drank all the coffee.
I'm going back to the hostel and napping until the next event.


But we found some bikes for RTW...


Ha, a Vespa 400.


Waiting in line for our turn on the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.


Chatting up scooterists down the line.


Two Vespa 400s?!


What an improbably vehicle.


Davide's bike has picked up more farkle since I saw it last.


Cassie knows how to kick back.

Liability forms, rule sheets, and hours of anticipation later, the line finally started moving...we were going to ride on the Indy Speedway! Unfortunately, by this point it had also been made abundantly clear that there was to be no passing, no wheelies, no second lap, no shenanigans of any sort, and they would be enforcing a speed limit of...35mph. Thirty five miles per hour.

The flaggers waved us onto the track. The track itself opened wide, a huge expanse of beautiful tarmac, and at an angle steeper than I anticipated. It was all I could do to not immediately pin my throttle. I mean, what are they going to do, kick me off the track? I'm not coming back anyhow...

But I behaved on our 35mph scooter lap, and we filed off the premises like model citizens.

Which I sort of regret, but hey.


Scooters taking over Fountain Square.


Aw yeah, Myke and Brittany are in!

I'm actually not entirely sure what we did the rest of that evening. Not in an exciting way, Davide and I probably streamed Orange is the New Black at the hostel with more Prosecco.


My inner anarchist. Making up for the speedway.
Then, my only 'nice' shirt and bra went missing.


Davide is really getting into the Saturday pride parade.


Got a new sticker.


And bling.

There was a lot of waiting around this year at Amerivespa. Several sweaty hours in the staging area waiting for our turn, I had to find a restroom. I admit, I lied to the classy liquor store when I said I'd buy something. I just shat and ran. This is for the speedway!

The parade itself, once we rode it, was a great colorful party. Achievement unlocked: High fives down the line on a scooter.

Back at the hostel, we had a couple hours to nap and get dressy for the banquet. My shirt and bra reappeared on the dehumidifier, but I actually had an entire outfit in mind this time! After living on my scooter this long, I'm relaxing my survivalist standards of minimalism.


Furthest Ridden, go figure. Then I realized I have to carry this thing until I figure out where to ship it.


So we left the party early, but not before making mischief with the rally bike.


One last night ride for Myke, Brittany, Davide and I.

Another Amerivespa under my belt! With a quiet farewell to Jackie, Davide and I and peeled out of the official party early. We met up with Myke and Brittany at the Thirsty Scholar; a classy spot suggested by Addison, who I met working at the Indy Hostel my first time around. His buddy was playing live piano there. It was a lovely cap to the evening, and early bedtime.

To be honest, I was pooped, over socialized, and memories are all a bit of a blur between overlapping social circles, substances (mostly Prosecco, thanks Davide), heat and dehydration, and frequent naps at the hostel.

Good thing Davide and I are planning on just some low-key camping out (ha!)... on our way to the next rally, Bandcamp (ha ha!).

Wow, wha a great trip. The esscence of a solo ride. Random people and kindess. Stop when you fancy, eat what smells good as you pass. The Baj looks a great place to visit, and your recounting of border Mexico, shows that there's a good bunch of people outside of the drug gangs. Thanks for a good breakfast read.
Gass silver machine gts 250

A Galaxy of goodness (not to mention good, if exhausting, fun) you found yourself smack in the middle of. Thanks for all this!

Another round of amazing pictures and travel 8)


Thanks

There were a lot of scooters that didn't go just 35 around the track in Indy....
My Speedo was off, (Like about every Scoot I know), so I really couldn't tell you how fast I went.....mmmm.....

Exaaaaaactly!

This looks like quite the adventure!

Living in CO I've seen the welcome sign many times. Glad you could stop by!

"I was just keeping up with traffic, sir."

Great photos of AV. Brought back memories. I loved Davide's bling too... 8)

This may have been answered previously - forgive me - but I was curious what program/equipment you were using for the pictures that show your tracks? I would like to incorporate that on my ride write ups. Thanks.

I'll have to tell you the story of how I met Davide for the first time. It's a mental picture that I can not for the life of me get out of my mind. Scarred for life.

RoaringTodd: I did a rundown of the apps I use in this blog post, Gear Talk: Navigation and Route Planning.

Unfortunately, the app I use is no longer being developed, and I haven't been able to find another free one. There are a few pay ones out there that do the same thing - just plot your GPS tracks and export them.

To display the GPS tracks, I email the *.kml files to myself and use GPS Visualizer to plot them. Then it's just screencap and Photoshop to stitch together.

Yes, you'll have to share your Davide story...

Mud and Maple Syrup: The Road to Bandcamp II. June 15 - 21, 2015.



Prepare yourself for mud you only discover months later in places you didn't think were ever exposed, and shenanigans on small motorized vehicles. We're going Toronto, ON to Toronto, OH, with a crazy Milano and a Buffalo kid, and the answer is yes you drank that many muddy tiki drinks.


Just clipping the corner of Ohio.


This stretch stands out for gratuitous use of the throttle assist.

The ride to the AirBnb in Detroit was unremarkable, save that Davide and I proceeded with our usual goofing around and I discovered I could operate the scooter without hands (overcome front end wobble by going at least 60mph, apply throttle lock, lean farther to the left than you think...it's a self-driving scooter!).

We dodged between two storm systems and checked into our overnight destination just as drops started to fall. Did I mention the room was dirt cheap because it was unfurnished? Welcome to the magic of indoor camping, Davide. In further acts of magic, we ordered Thai delivery because it was still raining and we could spirit forth food without getting on the bikes. This is the life.


Cool wall art on the warehouse outside Anthology Coffee.


I've never encountered bottled cold brew before.


Detroit has that former glory kind of vibe going. Huge empty buildings in ornate bygone styles, falling into disrepair.
It was fun poking around empty streets, riding up to any old building that looked creepy.


American entropy.


Specimen at the very cool Heidelberg Project. It transforms a couple city blocks, entropy to art.


Found object gold.


Davide making friends with the crucified baby.


Conveniently placed crutches for such a machine.


Davide: Time to go yet?


Davide is excited to visit Canada for the first time! But the Detroit Windsor Tunnel said no to motorcycles.


So we're stuck in traffic on the Ambassador Bridge. Notice my temp gauge reads 36 C (~97 F).
Davide overheated and had to cool off and rehydrate at our first Canadian stop: McDonald's.


Then it rained. More hydration than I needed.

We arrived at the home of Wally, a scooterist who had reached out a while back, much later than intended; the Stanley Cup was on, but since there were no Canadian teams playing he was able to step away to let us in. Immediately after we hauled our damp, smelly, gear-laden selves into his cozy apartment, he handed us each a bowl of fried rice with lapcheong he had fixed. I still can't fully express the depth of my gratitude, except by shoveling all the food in my face. The rest of the evening was a comfy blur of Radlers (Wally's preferred beverage) and looking at Wally's photos from the Cross Egypt Challenge last year (scooter world coincidences!).


For someone I just met, Wally already gets me.

The other reason I took Davide into Canada as an alternative to a straight shot to Pittsburgh was that I heard that Gene and Neda of RideDOT.com would be in Toronto giving a presentation about their journey. I couldn't actually make it for the presentation, but Gene suggested a KTM demo day and a nearby Tim Hortons instead where we could also meet another ADVer, Brent.


KTM demo day at GP Bikes.


Gene flashes a peace sign.

I feared that there wouldn't be a machine I'd be able to touch the ground on, but I actually really enjoyed the Duke 390. It's great to be back on a motorcycle, especially one that I flat foot, weighs less than my Vespa, yet has twice the horsepower! They said no wheelies, but you know I haven't used a clutch in a while...

At Tim Horton's after (because, Canada), we finally got to hang out and chat. In planning for my own trip, I found Gene and Neda's blog (RideDOT.com) about their worldwide journeys, and have been following them...for years now. It sounds less creepy on the internet, really. It was surreal at first to meet them in person after reading about them and seeing their photos, but soon the afternoon slipped away to talking travel and exchanging stories. It was great chatting with them, and Brent too, who's also passing through on a solo long distance trip.


Timmy's forever. Thanks for the pic, Davide!


Long live Tim Hortons parking lot. Thanks to Brent for sending the photo!


Vespa demo ride.

In many ways, it was affirming to hear some of the behind-the-scenes thoughts and challenges they faced and how they evolved, since they're a couple that has gone longer and farther than myself. From little things, like needing a portable hobby (needlepoint for Neda, knitting, for me), to more emotional things, like breaking the notion that it's all cocktails on the beach...and then reliving darker times to share on a blog. Then there's also the privilege and curse of travel fatigue. I don't feel so alone, for someone who primarily travels solo.

Good or bad, I feel it's my emotional capacity that runs out long before physical endurance, and there isn't as much a point of traveling for me if I'm not open to taking in the people and places I visit. It was a fun and encouraging meeting. Exploring beyond the North American continent seems daunting, but maybe more so because it's actually within reach.

It was a reflective ride along the 401 back into the city to meet Wally, and Toronto Scooterist Edward.


Hitting the town with Wally!


Meet Ed.


Guu Izakaya is winning at food and decibel level - it's a deafening tribute to izakaya style.


Initiation to DIY grapefruit shochu.


I do love nighttime city rides.


Hee hee the CN Tower is poking out of Wally's head. View from Cherry Beach.


Ontario College of Art & Design. Kickass.


Private entrance to Ed's shop.

Ed reached out to me through the blog, and offered to make Davide and I brunch in his shop. This barely describes what is actually his 'shop' and a mere common 'brunch'. I was confused as we pulled up to the correct address, a storage facility, but the front desk casually directed us to where Ed rents the boiler room in the back.


Helmet forest.


Crepe fillings along a table Ed made himself.


Ed fills the storage facility with the sweet smell of fresh crepes.


Ham, cheese, blueberries, and yogurt with a dash of maple syrup...ready for a nap after this feast.


Ed has rented this awesome place for about 10 years?!


Ed's domain.


The extra-long lathe setup is related to his work...


Ed was known for making perfectly balanced custom bo staffs.
Davide and I tested a few on each other outside.

Ed's shop is the kind of place you try to concoct when tasked with making concept art for some modern Renaissance salvage yard urban fantasy wood/metal/magic studio. There's supplies, hand-crafted items, and repurposed finds on every surface. It is literally tucked away in the boiler room of an operational storage facility. And it's a loft, with a suspended bike, and he's all set up with a hot plate, cooler, running water, and a ladder to the upper level. A lot of it is rescued from dumpsters. It's a fantastic jigsaw puzzle of a place, every shelf brimming.


Time for a ride. He handmade those leather gauntlets to match his bike too.


Hitting up the hip moto spots.


(Snicker)


I never thought spark plugs could be so cute!

Back at Wally's, he surprised Davide and I with an idea: Scooter food tour of Toronto.


First stop: Holy Chuck for Davide's first taste of poutine. I think he's considering converting.


Objects in camera are as large as they appear.


Yummy Korean Food Restaurant has a questionable name but the glass noodles remove all doubt.


Wally looks so proud.


The street. It is trendy.


Waiting for next snack.


Wally promised the fried chicken at Luther's Chicken was worth the wait.


Delivered! So tasty I'll spare you the close up.
Is it wrong I didn't expect to find fried chicken like this so far north?


Little Italy stop. They are still eating but I have tapped out.

I really can't say thank you enough to Wally. I'm coming to realize that any place a person visits can be vastly different, depending on who shows it to you. From our brief stay, I would say Wally's Toronto is a fantastic, diverse feast, a playground devoted to food and the good preparation of it, and he guided us through it like lost and hungry two-wheeled ducklings. But even with the delicious eats out and about, he already won me over with the first post-ride meal in his kitchen - it reminded me of something I might make at home, but better because it's been such a while (also because I didn't make it!). Foodies unite, thank you so much, Wally!


Wally even brought breakfast before we roll out! The feeding is so good around this guy...


Bagel House breakfast of champions.


Thank you so much, Wally!

A whirlwind stay for a few days, the packed social calendar isn't done yet...Davide knew there would be some trouble with re-entering the U.S. with his student visa, and he was predictably delayed at the border. I waited in the lot just past the Rainbow Bridge for him, and for a third member of our party to show up; I'd kept in touch with Jack, the guy I met in Austin. He was back in his hometown of Buffalo for a while, broken foot healed and reunited with his bike. It wasn't long before a DRZ400SM pulled up, with a familiar happy rider.

After an hour or so (I'm not sure, I was busy catching up with Jack), the crusty Beemer came through the gate. Davide pulled up to Jack and I, flipped up his visor, and in his clipped Italian accent said, "Well that took forever, but I think they missed the gallon of maple syrup I smuggled in a balloon up my butt. So, where to, guys?"

"Jack, meet Davide. Davide, Jack."


Bit of sightseeing before fleeing the premises. Hi, Jack!


Party of three, I'm so excited!


Jack tried to give a tour of his home city, but Buffalo was lost in the mist.


Filling up (our stomachs) before go time at Anchor Bar, the 'birthplace of the buffalo wing'.
Buffalo wings are possibly my favorite American food, and they're vinegary and crispy here.

The bridge out of Buffalo was lost in fog so heavy that our bikes seemed to be floating motionlessly in white. It was eerily like Silent Hill. Wait, are we already dead? If so, the company was alright. Even pitching our tents in the drizzle didn't bother me. Maybe because they also have to get up early to to ride, ha ha...


Houston, we have a problem.


Do you happen to know a motorcycle shop nearby?


Our hero, Paul Slagle, shows up on a Trail 90!


Of the three bikes, I wouldn't have expected the BMW to give us trouble.


Jack and I head to a nearby Sheetz for sustenance while the bike is being worked on.


Fuel hose is worn, but that's not it.


Squirting fuel into the throttle body.
They found an electrical problem in the fuel pump, but managed to fix it rather than order a new part. Yay!


Thanks, Paul! We're on our way.

Again, the company helps in events like a breakdown. I didn't mind some downtime to hang out with Jack, and the skies cleared up just in time for us to be back on the road. We followed the Allegheny River part of the way, and when I saw a fun, twisty road ahead on the map I'd wave the guys ahead. Jack would pass me doing a wheelie, with Davide shortly behind. I'd find one or both of them waiting for me up ahead, and take the lead again. Then there was the train dancing...


Davide dances as we wait for a train to pass.


Jack joined him, obviously.

In spite of the setback we made it to Bandcamp by 9pm, at least an hour improvement on last year!


Prime camping with graffiti in one of the few buildings.


I don't know what's happening here, and it's only the first night.


Oh, the mud. I got stuck trying to find a spot to camp.


Epic eggs, just like last year.


Davide was woken by a 2-stroke alarm making that rut you see here. Fancy garage tent got a bit muddy. He seems chipper enough though.


The stage is set.


El Coucho, the scooter with a couch sidecar, is revived!


I showed Jack how the shifter works, and he's off on Scotty's bike.
You may remember this bike from Dogwood 2014; the one I drove into the pricker bushes.




Mud shmud.


Yes, that's a couch sidecar chasing someone being pulled on a pool toy by a tiny bike through a muddy field.


Trouble in tent city. Several cars decided to pitch camp wherever they got stuck.


El Coucho at rest.


While waiting in line for tiki drinks, a guy walked down the line, handed us a pre-made cocktail, and thanked us for waiting. Compliments of Porco Lounge and Tiki Room.


Frying pork rinds camp style.


You never know what you may find at Bandcamp.


Whoops.


Looks like it could be an extended stay at Bandcamp.


Saturday's reveal: sidecar build got even creepier and more amazing.


Did I mention each year is themed, and this year was Amish? Also, hi Myke!


I think it rains every year, and I spend a portion of Saturday napping in a tent recovering from the absurdity.


Just embrace the mud.


This is called the Potato Game.


It turned into mud wrestling.


Stupid human tricks are fun!


What even.



Everything is a hot damn mess.


Possibly my favorite photo from the event.

To this day, I cannot explain the appeal of a bunch of scooterists camping around a muddy field. It's held in a valley that traps rain and moisture that turns the 'track' into mud. The septic system isn't designed to handle such a crowd and gets overwhelmed, and this is especially problematic given the tendency to turn into a human cocktail. I won't even begin to explain the absurdity of games and prizes. Maybe it's just what happens without cell service nowadays. Every year demands human sacrifice, usually carted away in an ambulance. Sleep is fitful at best, especially this year as the only place to pitch my tent was on an incline. And yet, it will be the party that the other big scooter rally right around this time of year, Amerivespa, could never be (or want to be, I suspect).


Can you imagine, regular, respectable marching bands practice here the rest of the year.
Bus is still stuck. There were a couple other minor auto incidents trying to escape the mud.


Jack and I are packed and rolling out.

Sunday morning, the field begins its transformation back to 'normal' but the rest of us will bear the scars. Once the school bus gets unstuck, it'll be like it never happened. You just have to be there for that special time of year when Bandcamp is Bandcamp.

Mud and weird sidecars and camaraderie. You do lead the most excursive of toyring lives, Q.

what a great vespa trip! and now i'm jealous with your trip..

Quizze Wally is hands down the best scooter guide in Toronto!

Quizze Wally is hands down the best scooter guide in Toronto!

A hidden Torontonian treasure.

Pittsburgh: Pause for Recovery. June 21 - 24, 2015.



A whopping 78 miles covered today, all of them painful. At least I kind of knew what to expect this year, and I had this guy to ride with for a while.


Jack and I live here now. Carnegie Coffee Company.

It seemed like the sun came out as soon as we rode out of the valley, but much of our clothing was still painted in mud (my sleeping pad to this day bears a dubious smear of mud/wine on one end...at least, I think that's what it is). The Lululemon-clad skinny latte sippers gave us a wide berth when we took over the quaintest little alcove of the coffee shop, fanning unwashed riding gear out on armchairs to dry, charging starved devices, and chomping breakfast sandwiches between grubby fingers.

I turned to Jack and said, "We live here now." As someone who goes from park to park, building ramps for the nearest BMX event, and may just as well spend a night under an 18-wheeler, on a buddy's couch, or once in a while in an actual bed, Jack would be someone who knew exactly what I was talking about.I just hope my incredible efficiency at making myself at home doesn't offend future hosts.


Farewell for now at Pitcher Park Memorial Skate Park.

Jack's ride would take him to a buddy's further north while I continued to west, but we had a bit more time to be in the moment. This being Jack, we stretched out in the sun dappled grass at a skatepark he knew. He pointed out the fence he didn't quite clear and broke something (a disturbingly common theme). I shook out some ants I discovered in my helmet (hopefully not a recurring theme). And then it was time for me to roll, to a new city for scoot but familiar city for me: Pittsburgh.


Walking down Butler near our digs in Lawrenceville.

Plus, I was excited to see Matt again, it had been New Years in California when I saw him last. Pittsburgh was the destination of the first road trip Matt and I took together, so naturally I asked if he wanted to meet me there. It's funny to realize, while I may cross paths with many people as I scoot near their home turf, Matt stands out for being someone who comes out just to 'visit' on the road. Heya!


Matt and barbecue at Union Pig & Chicken, a repeat visit from my first time through PGH.

Unlike the coffee shop, this time I felt a little bad for arriving with my desperate laundry situation, damp boots, and the occasional ant still clinging to my helmet (when did I accrue a personal ecosystem?). Oh, and then there were these bug bites:


This is what happens when I'm in nature.


Matt takes it upon himself to help brush off my boots for Nikwax application. What a sweetie.

The day passed sleeping in, running life admin, seeing a movie at the theater, going on food quests around town, catching up with friends, and blogging from a coffee shop while Matt read a book. I was feeling human again. It was a beautiful rest day, even better that I could spend it with someone I share a history with. Now neither of us live in Rhode Island anymore, but Pittsburgh signified the beginning of being back on familiar territory.

Matt wanted to take advantage of the comparative ease of gun rentals at firing ranges, so now we're also cardholders of a gun club in Pennsylvania.


Pew pew pew, they loaned us guns and we shot tiny holes in paper.


Eileen and Kellen (last seen at an epic Memorial Day on Block Island, RI) for fiery Thai at Pusadee's Garden.


Pierogi quest.


Cured meats from S&D Polish Deli were purchased for the road. This comes into play later.


Okay, one quick food closeup.

After divvying up Polish deli goodies, I reluctantly said goodbye to Matt at the bus station and an elaborate logistical dance that I'd been planning for over a month was about to go into effect. Several weeks back, Eileen had reached out to her local friend, Geoff, and asked if I could store my scooter for a few weeks at his bike shop, Slagheap Cycles. I would take only my backpack of clothes and a day bag. For one afternoon in the city, Jack would ride back into town for another goodbye, and deliver me to the airport.

I'd accepted another work gig for the same marketing company responsible for the Boomchickapop Vespa team (see January), and I'm flying to California!


My scoot goes into temporary storage at Slagheap Cycles. Thanks, Geoff!


Toolin' around the city through Jack's eyes, on the back of his DR-Z!
He took this photo with a crazy lens on his phone.

From the back of Jack's bike, the wind tore at my sunglasses (I'd opted to borrow a helmet upon arrival rather than carry mine) and my bottom half felt naked in just tights and running shoes (the job requires black boots and mine are brown, so I'd asked Tim to locate and ship a pair of riding appropriate black ones from storage in RI to Pete in CA, thanks guys. Wow, this really was a lot of coordination. I should have gone into bank heists).

It was a difficult decision to leave my bike, even temporarily. It felt like I was saying so many goodbyes in such quick succession, while emotionally preparing for hellos on the other coast. I'd set a plan into motion and it's just me and my bags now, clinging tight, literally to Jack from the passenger seat, but also figuratively...I guess I just feel more helpless without my bike.

But Jack and I found a nice view of the city, rode over some rocks (seriously, DR-Z is awesome!), and there is nothing as cool as taking a bike to the airport!


Farewell vista courtesy of Jack's ride. See you next month, Pittsburgh.

Thank you to everyone who made this possible, from coming out to meet me, storing my things, shipping my stored things, or otherwise being one or more moving part that put aside a little time for me.

After this California interlude, it's time - I need to check Lubec, ME off my list.

Wow...the unsinkable Quezzie.

Thanks so much for the update...will be poring over these pics for a little while!

How, oh, how shall we be able to continue without your adventures to keep us fascinated to the printed word!!
Eh, we'll survive. Good to know you've got other things to do than keep us entertained. Looking forward so much to seeing your further travels. Good luck and keep well.

Another round of great photo's


Thanks for sharing 8)

Your going to love Lubec Maine.My o;d stomping grounds. 8)

It was not two weeks ago and you were in Las Vegas. My word woman, you get around fast!! Great photos and it was fun meeting you again.

Vegas was super fun!

Actually, my posts are so behind (notice the date in the title is from June 2015), at this point I've already visited Lubec, ME and have gone across the country...again! This time, I rode my Vespa to SF, and am working on a post about new developments while desperately trying to catch up on the records, haha.

Instagram is probably the best way to keep up with my most recent activity: http://www.instagram.com/quezzie/

I made a post on the blog with my most recent plans and locations! http://250superhero.blogspot.com/2016/03/plan-spring-2016-edition-of-where-hell.html

Cliff notes: I'm in San Francisco, CA until March 24, and then my blue Vespa goes into storage. I'm flying to Atlanta, GA to build a PX150/200 and ride up the east coast until further notice. It will be a learning experience! Europe and Alaska are in my sights, but I'm going to take my time getting ready for that, and catch up the RR while I'm at it.

Build...?

Following you here gets more interesting all the time. Periodic progress reports when you can, pretty-please?

I'll try to get something together, there are some progress shots on my instagram. Here's a fairly recent one, almost ready to ride:



The bike is running now, though still not entirely together (first test ride the rear brake wasn't hooked up). It's a huge learning experience for me, and super fun!

What a great adventure! I'm really enjoying reading about your travels. I hope you'll continue to post the pictures and stories of your adventures.

Just...wow. And those bunny-ears absolutely rock. (Hop?) You really do know how to accessorize. Best of luck!

Sanrio Surprise! Return to California. June 24 - July 15, 2015.



What a contrast, arriving at San Francisco airport to be picked up by bike again, but this time on Pete's new 300 Super. I hadn't seen him since the two weeks following the collision and was skeptical of his condition for operating a bike, but you can't keep a good man down.


Pete and his new bike, already bedecked in hexagons.

If the DR-Z has a reputation for being a hooligan bike, the 300 Super is pinkies-out civilized. Smooth, quiet, even power delivery, with plenty of room for passenger and luggage. I wouldn't even know if it's on if I wasn't flying down the highway at 70mph. They're like apples and oranges, but still the best bookends for a flight.

I'd be getting to know the 2015 Super a lot in the coming month. Pete was loaning me his new baby (fresh from its first service) for my journey to LA, for a job riding...more 300 Supers.


Wasting no time, taking one of my favorite routes south.


Hello, Tai Li and James! You may remember her and this LXV from Santa Cruz.


The grill master and pupil.


It's always good food and conversation with Jim (hdawg on ADV) and family.

I still haven't found the will in me to do the SF-LA run in a single day. Why would I, when I could take an extra day to visit people like Jim? We chatted about his new motorcycle of desire, which I believe it the BMW R nineT (?) - Tai Li and I were both more about the Duke 390.

In the morning, I realized why the dogs seemed extra excited as I bustled around packing: they had found and finished my remaining Polish deli treats from Pittsburgh. Easy way to make friends!


Back to the Pacific Coast Highway.


Just killing me. I haven't found another place like this yet.


Fog is alive and pouring down the hillside.


The spaceman visor from Pete got a bit muddy. Warming up at Ragged Point.


A foggy day to explore this big rock. Morro Rock.

I arrived in at my family friend's Los Angeles home just before dusk. She was away in Italy, but had kindly allowed me and my Boomchikapop Vespa colleague, Tigra, to house and cat sit. Waiting for the house key to be dropped off and Tigra to arrive, I picked up some groceries, tamales for dinner, and sat on the steps watching the sun set from the hilltop home. The sky turned brilliant behind silhouettes of palm trees, and I thought, Maybe I'm ready to be back in LA.

In any case I'd be here for the next two weekends, working with Aisha and Tigra again in a team of six riders. This time, we're introducing Gudetama from Sanrio, at Anime Expo (think Hello Kitty, but weirder, eggier).


Six riders on six brand new 300 Supers. All covered in Gudetama, Sanrio's new lazy egg character.


0 miles?!


Gudetama Vespa team, GO.


Butt what is this, you say.

Like Boomchikapop, the job is to be highly visible living billboards, riding circles around the convention center surrounding the event, answering questions, handing out giveaways, or being filmed for...whatever purposes Sanrio has. The hours are long, often in high congestion, questionable air pollutant count, and with the July sun above reflected back up by the concrete below. And yet, even after a 12 hour shift riding the Gudetama bike, I'm still quite pleased to hop on Pete's Vespa for the commute to my temporary home.


Dropping off goodies at the Japanese collectibles store.


Hollywood Boulevard.


Venice Beach.

Bonus that the non-event day ride routes followed densely touristed places - many of the 'LA must see sights' that I usually skip, we blanketed them on the Gudetama bikes. Probably the best way for me to check those off my list.

Can't really complain about how I'm making money right now.


Convention center lap, 1/872.


Eggs cooking under the hot sun.

Days disappeared under the blazing sun, boiling my brain and melting the hours together like a Dali. We'd open the windows to my friend's home in the evenings, and play with the cats inside or have dinner outside. Tigra took some of her days off for a car trip, so I indulged in the non-vegan food scene.


Ramen for solo dining. Spicy tonkotsu and velvety chashu at Men Oh.


John (jdgretz) is available on midweek days for lunch! He picked Golden Dragon for dimsum.


So Rush Hour was filmed here. I grew up on (deliciously violent) Jackie Chan movies.


Poked around some street markets after. Feels like Asia in here.


Back on the bikes.


Break time for Team Gude.


Things get goofy when you ride around in the sun for long enough.


Back to a vegan feast with Tigra. Ethiopian win.


Same goes for Indian win. It's great to have feeding company.


Creepy fakey old Hollywood.

Working within the team became my daily routine and my note taking became spotty, so looking back it's especially a blur. My Gude-family was fun, but in time it felt like I couldn't escape crowds, cars, strip malls, sprawl, or aggressively self-made men and women and plans to 'make it.' The sun seemed to release a reek of snake oil from between the cracks in the pavement, probably 100% vegan (I suppose promises don't have to be made of animal suffering, just human). Perhaps I'm becoming too numb to experience travel. On days off, I'd hide in the shade of coffee hops to blog or draw, but Lubec called in the back of my mind, and I swear the price of kombucha was rising by the minute.

Back in New Orleans, I had a chance to tour the set for the new Terminator movie with stunt coordinator, Hank. It seemed appropriate to spend my last day off to watch the film at vintage movie theater, The Vista. It struck me what incredible effort and coordination it is to bring to life a film. So many people have to share a delusion for months, years, to create 126 minutes of entertainment for you, the viewer. I can't decide whether it's magical or insane, or whether it makes a difference as long as it's a sufficient balm for the drudgery of everyday existence.

...The insular LA concrete is getting to me, it's high time to go!


Meeting John again for some fun riding en route north.


John knows all the fun alternate roads, like Old Stagecoach Route.


I'm told this place fills up with bikes and has live music on the weekends.As usual, I'm traveling on a weekday.


Holy shit, that's the bridge I crossed out of Cachuma Lake.


Cool collection at this pit stop. Shortly after I got this photo I was stung by a yellowjacket.


Panino lunch in Solvang.


Food distraction from the wasp sting. Actually it really hurts! Darn vespas...


One more sight to see before John and I part ways: Madonna Inn.


This place... everything is gilt or sparkles. Or both.


The ladies room is over the top. Not pictured: the chandeliers in individual stalls.


OK the men's room is pretty ridiculous too (I snuck in).


Farewell, Norge.

Hollywood hustle fell away to calm coastal and mountain riding, while still acknowledging the magic of shared delusion that puts this city on the map. Leave to John to show me a completely different side of what it means to call LA home, further proof one should really just stick to following locals (or those who know) around. An urban sprawl like LA seems especially apt for chameleon qualities, hugely dependent on who shows you their experience of it. I like John's version, it was fun sharing the road with the Norge again.


Meanwhile, in Santa Cruz...

396 miles later in Santa Cruz, Quin Lin had told me about some crazy treehouse off of a hiking trail. The rumor is that some college kid started it, it doesn't have a ladder, you just have to climb up the right-angle limbs of a sequoia.


Jim's experience with hiking trails and a little internet research got us to the right place.


The Empire Grade Treehouse sways in the wind.


Swing with an ocean view!


Hmm.


I came in through the trap door.

I would have sworn I was seven stories up in the treehouse, but Jim tells me he puts it at just below three. When you're half way up with no idea what to expect at the top, it seems much higher. The first few step-through loops to climb up to the lower limbs were the hardest, but they weren't the reason I had to stop for a break. After all, I'm a competent climber...indoor rock climber. With a harness, safety line, padding, and plenty of people around with cell phone service to call an ambulance if needed.

No, the curse of adulthood is the wisdom/idiocy to look down, gauge how high up you are, how many branches between you and the ground, and imagine how many bones it would break and how difficult it would be to continue to ride to Lubec in a full body cast. The strength went right out of my legs, a wobbly quality great in custard desserts and not great for my present situation. I guess I just won't fall then, I told myself after a deep breathing exercise. This was only about a third of the way up, Jim was still shouting encouragement from just below my feet.

At the top I'm recovering and patting myself on the back for completing the mission, when this kid, Peter, shows up all young confidence.


Company arrives!


Peter continued to the treetop barefoot style.


I'll settle for this limb. Thanks for the photo, Peter!


These Vibram soled boots are deceptively adequate for climbing.


Appearing far more confident than I feel.Thanks for the photo, Jim!


I got warm as I climbed, so I lowered my layers down before me with a convenient pulley.


The dark mass above is the treehouse, perched between three sequoias.


That's enough adventure for today.


The GTS and LXV wait at the start of the trail.
Jim, I don't know how to tell you this, but if your daughter climbed to that treehouse, she has balls of steel.


Verna, Pete and I are picking up party supplies on scooters at Costco in SF.

In San Francisco again, Pete and Verna are amping up for a launch party for his new SF scooter club, the Post Mods. I followed Pete, stapling flyers to parked Vespas around town, but my thoughts wandered.

In contrast to my usual ultra-flexible comings and goings, I'd finalized a route plan to reach the easternmost point in the contiguous US states. This was in part because I had to pick a date for my return flight to Pittsburgh. The other part was I wanted to celebrate reaching my goal by staying at a proper Bed and Breakfast, which required making a reservation far in advance for a fixed date.

This was it. The final approach to Lubec was laid out before me, just over a week away. For the days leading up to the July 23, I knew exactly where I should be, how many miles I needed cover each day, which day to rest, and where I would be staying each night.

It should have been a comfort, but I felt anxious and unsettled.

At least there was one more California ride to plan.


A quick local ride to Sutro Baths to climb and listen to music will help.


Pete and Verna wanted to get a ride and camping trip in before launch party, so I'm in for route planning.


Scoots are loaded for (small) bear.


First stop: lunch with two of my favorite people, Lisa and Erik, at a Mexican-Vietnamese hole in the wall.


Lisa described it as "very Oakland." I say, Oakland is tasty.


One of my favorite routes goes through Morgan Territory Regional Preserve. Might look familiar.


Shady break... break down, that is. Pete's bike won't start again. At least it's pretty here.


Riding brethren making sure we're doing ok.


Bike eventually started, so we made it to a classy dinner at a hotel.


I guess even though it's a small town in CA, it's wine country.


We suspect sediment in gas filter. Nighttime arrival in Coloma.


Zzz.

So Tigra, Boomchikapop and Gudetama colleague, also works as a river guide in Coloma, CA. She invited us to stay with her at her camp and go for a private tour, so scooterists are taking to the river!


Crashing camp Tigra!


Camp kitchen win.


Cozy much.


I have donned the requisite warpaint (sunscreen) and am ready to conquer.


Rapids ahoy.

Because it's just Tigra, us, and a PCT hiker going by Daytripper, we could pull up anywhere we want. We feasted on wild blackberries as we went, and explored a little island. I think everyone fell out of the raft at least once, except Pete who deliberately jumped out for a swim (brr). The weather cooperated beautifully and nobody died, I call it a success!


Tigra's camp is a lost boys kind of magical.


Thank you for showing us the river, Tigra!


Urban beasts prepare to return.


Juno has gas issues.

There's still a party to throw, so after the rapids in the morning we hustled back in the afternoon - another nighttime arrival for the Banhmi Bandits, and one night to sleep and treat sunburnt knees and bruises. I bombed my immune system a shot of Emergen-C, echinacea, antihistamine and ibuprofen, then commenced scrambling to gather the last few things for the Post Mods launch party.


Silkscreening station with Verna and JP at Post Mods launch party.


I'll just crash here, thanks.


Lambretta in the Vespa shop.


I met Ivan, the blogger for Scooter in the City.


Moustafah, long-haul GTV rider, hanging out at the gnome painting station (future scavenger hunt items).


Pooch is pooped. Party success.


One last ride before red-eye flight back eastside, with Moose on his custom yellow GTV.


Spot the scooters.


How about now?


Moose tells me him and his best friend got covered in poison oak near here. Eee.


Mount Tamil we go.


San Francisco looks small from here. We spent some time identifying bridges and land masses.


Foggy ride back.


Sendoff dinner with these two before Vespa-ing to SFO.

I'm antsy to go back east for my last corner, but it's always bittersweet leaving. Of all the places I've visited, I spent the most time in the Bay - long enough to form friendships, have familiar hangouts, fall in love. Even if I've stopped shopping for homes, in small ways I've found many anyway, all across the United States.

Awesome as ever. Your the Anthony Bourdain on 2 wheels. 8)

Once again another batch of amazing adventures and photos. There's no scooterist I envy more, you're just amazing, Steph 8)

Took the woids outta my mouth, Judy.

And...looks like you've discovered my fave ride, Steph. Loving the daylights out of my Super.

Fab photos and commentary, as usual.