Modern Vespa

About 300 miles and 24 hours (nearly to the minute!), down to Enterprise/Joseph, Oregon, camping at my favorite, hidden, secluded spot about 30 miles south of Enterprise.

Midway ye get about an hour of endless twisties at the famous Rattlesnake Grade (no clue how to make that a link, so Google it!), which, after nearly 20 years of driving (in cars, trucks, campers, bigger campers) and fantasizing about riding, I can finally say: sometimes the fruit tastes as sweet as you've imagined. Man it was tasty!

Beautiful solstice evening with a massive (nearly) full moon. And then the wind kicked up and rattled my tent all night long. I've spent a fair amount of time camping alone and, gotta say, it doesn't necessarily get easier -- that's a lot of silence to fill with one brain....

But this is about scootering, not facing one's existential truths, so...anyway, one of the things I love about this part of the world, and about this route: massive variety of scenery.

The other thing I love about this area: in the morning I stepped into a cafe for breakfast to find a couple friends from here in Moscow, heading out for a rafting trip, and sitting down to eat with them I realized I hadn't spoken to anyone since kissing my wife goodbye.

Vespucci behaved and rode like a dream. 55-65 mph, hour after and hour and not so much as a hiccup. Thirsty lil bugger when it comes to oil, tho, but I guess that's an Italian thing.


Snake River. 90 degrees heading down. 20 mph wind at my back...and, yep, at my front heading home.

Twisties! A little slice of Rattlesnake Grade.

Coming back up out of Rattlesnake Grade.



View from the tent. Wallowas.

Amazing night. Shortly later the massive moon rose over the tent, but the camera only shrunk it to a speck.

Good week for firsts: first ride with a friend.





Last edited by tdrake on Thu Jun 23, 2016 6:01 am; edited 1 time in total

Muscle and finesse.

So, td, who felt more comfortable? I bet your Vespa's seat is at least as comfy as his cruiser's.

I was out of sorts setting out this eve, but about half an hour into the ride a red-tailed hawk lifted from the roadside beside me with a snake in its clutches, and for a few seconds we were about 15 feet apart, eye to eye, as he turned toward me as if to say "yeah, and you thought about staying home, eh?"

And then the canola fields always make me smile. And everything kept getting better.

(Until after dinner my wife and I got into an epic Brexit argument and I slept on the couch. Oops.)





Last edited by tdrake on Fri Jun 24, 2016 8:44 am; edited 1 time in total

I won't lie: I did throw a leg over her cruiser, mostly to be polite, and was surprised at how comfy the seat was.

But not my style, at all, and I can't imagine by back appreciating sitting at that angle, with my feet out and arms up (of course I could be wrong).

And, yep, I've really come to appreciate the Vespa ergonomics these past few months. My lower back is pretty tweeky and I've yet to have any problems on long rides.

Go Vespa!

It's about to get hot and brown here, after a gloriously mild and verdant spring, so yesterday I pulled out the stops on a 200 mile ride I've been scheming on since February: secluded highways over to Orofino, ID, and then straight into the woods on isolated blacktop that simply ends 50 miles from nowhere.

I'd initially envisioned this as a camping trip, but I've been away from home a lot this summer and am about to hit the road for another week, so I girded my loins for the round trip.

The temps here on the Palouse, out on the prairies and up in the woods never 72 and I found myself bundled up and slipping on my winter gloves now and then, and then four times I dropped 2500 feet of elevation down into canyons with temps in the low 80s. Perfect riding weather.

And where there are canyons there are winding twists. Even after last week's spin down and out of the Rattle Snake Grade, I've never spent so many hours negotiating tight turns and switchbacks. The Cannonball will pass by Orofino and it's a shame y'all won't have an extra hour to spend getting off track and adding maybe an extra 45 minutes to that day, crawling up highway 11 and out onto the prairie, where you can see for 100 miles in three directions. So, so beautiful. Lewis and Clark came through here and were saved by a group of Nez Perce; they must have thought they'd stumbled into Shangrila.

Oh, yeah, and an epic chili dog to top it all off! For me, that is; my impression is that Lewis and Clark dined on dog.


Down, down, down we now twist to the Clearwater.

Epic. Chili. Dog! The Dog House food truck: Orofino, ID.

Not a big scooter scene in Pierce, Idaho. Not a big scene here, period. ...somewhere between Alaska and Kentucky....



I can see for miles and miles and miles...oh yeah....

Been to Moscow a few times visiting in laws tnat used to live in Lenore. Wonderful roads there! Great photos. Thanks for sharing!

Somehow the perfect days keep coming.

Gloria: I find that through some strange cosmic coincidence everyone has been to Moscow once and everyone who lives in Moscow has, at some point in the past fifty years, known someone who lives in my house.

Hey TD, nice pics of your camping trip.
Try extra-virgin olive oil in your engine - it should last longer

Back to Orofino. This route may truly be one of America's best kept ptw secrets!

How many days do we wake up without a single thing planned and nothing to do?

Yesterday, Sunday, I'd taken one of the best rides of my life -- no wind, surprisingly temperate, I felt "on" and the Vespa performed perfectly (well, it always does), and I pushed hard for four hours of winding beauty -- and so another ride today seemed foolish.

But how many empty days are we allotted?

Well, some of those allotted days turn out to have crazy, shifting 20 mph winds, so I cut my plans short and started taking random roads to wind my way home.

Where I came across the beautiful little chapel and its graveyard.

And, in a time where it seems all the news is of hatred and mistrust, I realized the chapel door didn't even have a lock on it. I reached skeptically for the handle and twisted, and walked into this pristine space.

And sang my soul out on a piano as out of tune and broken down as its player.

Then back into the driving wind....

At some point I need to get a life again and get some stuff done, but for now, summer continues....

Headed West into Eastern WA along a route a Harley friend recommended. Lesson: Harleys like long, open, straight roads where they can really open up and feel the...I don't know what...speed, maybe, which I can't really feel on a Vespa, while I like winding tight curves that, I'm guessing, are probably a pain on a big, lumbering bike.

And speaking of pain: six hours is too much for my ass, especially if it isn't getting a shot of adrenaline now and then.

Anyway, some cool stuff none the less, and I had a killer diller bacon cheeseburger in St. John, WA, population 587, so I need to shut my cupcake -- or burger -- hole and be grateful for a long, boringish ride through the Western wide open.


Old skool GPS: "Goodnuff Position Sharpie" notes

Garfield, WA, seen better days

When we talk about "the Palouse," this is what we mean. Atop Steptoe Butte...only took my 26 years of living nearby to get atop

Destination: Rock Lake, Scablands, central WA. Unfortunately, tho the lake is public access it's surrounded by NO TRESPASSING!! private ranches, so no hiking for you Vespa-boy! So, well, turn around and face a long ride home....

A lil something for the Empiricists in our audience: a loan Anglo amid endless German-named backroads

Rough country

Not how I pictured it

Probably the only audience that will appreciate I kept driving up rail loading ramps so I could take pics of a Vespa next to a train

Alright, it's not summer in Idaho unless you ride behind a gate and make a little gunsmoke.

In around 1980 my grandfather told me I'd inherit his old pistol. He died in 1997 but apparently never put it in his will (and if you're like me and have put off making a will for, well, ever, that makes sense), and one of my uncles got weird and kept it for himself.

And so I've hounded that uncle, who I love and was pretty close to, all these 20 years, until, sadly, last month he passed away. I drove down to his service a few back and brought back the pistol.

Sometimes things take awhile.


Idaho

What most of Idaho really looks like

Inheritance

I had mentioned in early posts that I was a Regional Manager for
my Company for Idaho, Wyoming and Montana. Off Winter, I
would travel by car just to see the beauty of the area. Yes, I
also have been to Moscow.

Some outback real estate that most will never have the opportunity
to visit. Appreciate your bringing it to us.

I have rode through most small towns in Minnesota and Wisconsin.
I would never have been able to see this without being on a scooter.

Bob Copeland
Minnesota

Man, that must have been a great gig; it's been literally decades since I did the landscape of Montana and Wyoming the justice of a good road-trip -- haven't even been to the Tetons since, well, 1981 (!), a few years before moving here.

But I really am grateful for being able to rediscover my more immediate terrain via the Vespa. I'd long forgotten why I'd moved here in the first place.

Lots of fine riding these past few weeks under clear, hot skies, which, ironically, offer few scenic pics; everything's turning brown, brown, brown, and the sky stares down with a kind of washed out apathy.

Yesterday, though, I did take a few shots off while out with my wife's best bud, when I took her out on my now favorite four hour rt ride to Orofino.

We cut a fine pair, either the Odd Couple or Laurel and Hardy, with 6' 1" 155 lb me on the green Vespa in my ATGAT nerd duds and, uh, portly, her on a flame-airbrushed Farley, often sporting leather chaps and Frye boots...pulling into the most red of redneck Idaho towns like a clown show.

She's a super safe, mellow rider, proving a good foil to my somewhat, shall we say "aggressive" approach to this route's swoops and twists and turns. It was nice to share this incredible route with someone else, as well; in her decades of local riding she didn't even know about it. In fact, whenever I get to Orofino I encounter a couple dozen Harleys but I seldom encounter anything but trucks and tractors on the route there -- such an undiscovered gem.

Last week, however, on my return trip a couple bigger bikes pulled out behind me from a dirt road. For about six miles the three of us were stuck behind a big RV on a low speed limit road, but when we hit the highway I passed and soon found them on my tail. ...I still wasn't sure what they were but I couldn't help but give them a run for their money as we swept thru the turns; I didn't want to "race" but I didn't want to hold them back, and here and there I left them in the dust until we reached the little "town" (qua town) where I snapped the pics below, and I let them pass -- turned out to be a couple super bikes, or whatever you call those beasts -- one was a BMW R nine T. Point team Vespa!!

So, like I say, it's perhaps good to have someone a little mellower along to tame my hubris.

Great photos, and great writing.

You could blog, but then I'd have to find you somewhere else.

Keep up the good work.

Thanks! I'm lucky to live someplace where all I gotta do is hold up my iPhone and let the scenery take care of itself.

Same old same old: headed out early today for a brief ride, hoping to beat the grain trucks who, despite it being a Sat morning, will be out in full force this month...but the weather was amazing and I kept on going and going, until only having skipped breakfast brought me home.

Back down to Rattlesnake Grade for one last kick at the summer cat before the students invade my town, my life, my consciousness, and I have to go back to work.

This was gonna be one last camping trip, but it's about to get too hot, and I'm too busy, so, what to do when too busy: go for an all day, 203 mile road trip. Hey, I'll work tomorrow!

Basically two hours of boring riding, two hours of pretty nice riding, and nearly two hours (since I get the ride the Rsnak Grade twice) for mind blowing riding. Not a bad equation.

Normally I simply write off August around here, and we just hide from the heat and smoke down in the cool basement, bingeing on the Sopranos, Battlestar Gallactica, Game of Thrones...yes, quality family educational entertainment....

But not this year: still beautiful out there today, especially after two days of cool, cleaning, unseasonal rain.




Grand Ronde River, OR, bottom of Rattlesnake Grade

Canyons, prairies, mountains....

Drove up to Spokane today, which is not exactly my favorite place, but stumbled across an old school diner in a nice lil neighborhood, where where tattooed suicide girls serve up a mean Reuben, and outside, on the corner, the utility box had this great wrap.

Then home in the heat and at the last minute, when the temps dipped down to 88, I decided to head out for a ride, which, I'm learning, is always a good idea.

Beautiful evening, and if there's one thing I really appreciate about NW summers it's that by the time I turned around I needed to zip in another layer to my mesh coat to keep out the chill.

Try as I might, I could not capture the big ol' moon with my lil lens. I'm sure there's a lesson in that.

Hot days have me riding out later in the eve from about 7:30-8:30, when the light has been especially beautiful. Always amazes me how short the harvest period is around here: a year's labor comes to fruition in about three short weeks, and all the wheat is nearly in. For 26 years this scenery marks my return to the classroom.

Elk are pretty common all over Idaho, but it's rare to find them out in the fields...another bonus to being out in the eve. This herd seemed set on posing for the perfect shot, which, with my humble phone at 100 yards, I couldn't really do justice.

(Didn't notice until they were off the phone and on a big screen how grainy the low light shots came out....)

Wow, major Edit/Delete of last night's single malt Scotch fueled post accompanying this pic with a simpler note:

Once upon a time I used to need to take a long walk to clear my head.

Now, even after a long walk, I need to ride my Vespa to clear my head.

And apparently said Scotch does not improve said clarity.

"Just five miles out of town..."

Man I like your town!

You've hit a very good way to drink and ride.....

It looks so intoxicating and inviting.....

After the harvest...

Still riding but I haven't been able to find my groove lately, in part because the landscape is kind of dull this time of year, and in larger part because my brain is full of work stuff. It's all good stuff, and it's nice to be engaged with that part of life -- most of us are in the habit of only mentioning how work stresses us out, but, really, I think in reality it's often consuming because it's fun and we love it; I know I do -- and swear to god I cannot clear my head when I'm riding.

I'm also learning that much of the pleasure is in the discovery: riding any road for the first time, and I've pretty much tapped out my paved, nearby options.

Another funny change is that my wife has been encouraging me to ride -- what a change from initially trying to simply talking her into letting me own a ptw in the first place. But she appreciates who I am when I pull back into the driveway, compared to who I was when I pulled out. You all know what I mean.

Yesterday: perfect weather, smooth running machine, empty roads, and I tried to consciously practice "mindful" riding, as a meditation exercise: Be Here Now, and in some ways the roads were for and against me; around here the county roads and rural two lanes are frequently "chip-sealed" instead of paved, which means they pour a thin layer of goop and then a thin layer of gravel and, essentially, it's up to passing cars and trucks to smooth it all out over the following weeks. And so, inevitably, there's a lot of loose gravel down the center strip...and then there's less loose gravel, most of the time, except for when suddenly you take a turn to find there is still a lot of loose gravel... This also leaves them wavy, and more than once I was pretty sure I had a puncture.

So I'd ridden an hour to what are normally my Shangrila turns, only to find I had to take each one gingerly, carefully staying up against either the center-line or the shoulder on turns I normally swoop thru, hoping no one was coming up the other way.

Also there was a Bambi with spots around one turn and, standing just on the shoulder across from him, a big-ass, black beef cow...and four more deer around the next turn.

Eventually I thought "f--k it; yer riding like a candy ass!" and so I got a lil more aggressive...I'd come this far for some twisties, and damn if I wasn't going to twist!

Only to find myself in a powerslide on a particularly tight turn, and I crossed the center line as three cars came up the other way.

Some days you eat the bear; some days the bear eats you.

Oh, I did get the strange experience of passing a big ol' Harley. We waved and it was friendly, and I hope they found it as ironic and comical as I did.

Late harvest moon and 24 elk (sorta wish the iPhone could Macgyver a 24" telephoto lens every now and then.

I wonder how often the best adventures are made up of the least elements? We add up the best and our expectations are set high, often too high, and there are few surprises, but you take the pieces of a bad ride -- exhaustion, a slight fever, heavy winds and the seasons battling for dominance -- and sometimes all the deficits add up to an incredible ride.

No new pavements or vistas, but there's change in the air as the leaves perch on the edge of fall, and, I gotta admit, this Northwesterner is happy to see the clouds coming in again. And although most days heavy winds just blow my mood to pieces, today it felt good to be tested and pushed around.

Also, starting to think the most important element to a good ride is simply a fresh set of earplugs.

Sigh.

I love these picture laden posts. Great pics, great looking scoot. Keep it coming.

Thanks, man! Winter's coming...so trying to get it in before it all goes gray and wet.

The farmers around a couple of these old rural churchyards must be starting to think I'm some kind of hardcore Lutheran or a grave robber, but, basically, I think my new calling in life is just to go out and look at the sky for an hour, while, of course, trying to nail the absolute perfect line thru a couple favorite turns....

Sort of the same old, same old: jump on the bike to try to catch the sunset and ride around the sticks like a hopped up hillbilly trying to catch the splendor...all to generally mediocre effect; the sky just don't seem to want to fit inside my iPhone.

None of these shots come close to how sublime it was out there. I'd stop taking pics and posting, but it's such a good excuse to get outta my head and into the air.

Thanks for all the photos. It takes me back to my last couple years of high school which I spent in Cheney. The landscape was so foreign to me. The channeled scab lands look like the surface of mars on a frigid winter day. And the palouse....sigh.

As the storm comes in and the days grow shorter.

Beautiful pics

Weather gurus have been calling for apocalyptic flooding, sharknadoes, and plagues of wet locusts, but for some reason it's been quite beautiful here this week (well, ok, between bouts of rain, but it's the PNW), so...a beautiful Friday evening ride.

The elk herd must be Swiss: each night so promptly lining up along the ridge -- this night beneath the enormous, nearly full moon. Last night a guy was stopped on the road with a tripod and huge telephoto, and I really regret being too embarrassed about ruining his solitude and the moment to ask him to send me some pics, cuz once again the mighty iPhone proved no match for the shot, so y'all may need to squint and use yer imaginations a bit.

A couple random things friends just sent me. The "big" Vespas are from a friend walking the Northern leg of the Camino de Santiago.

Love that last picture of yours. Keep up the good work....while you can.