MAINE: my final frontier. These are the voyages of the Scooter Vespa 250 i.e. Super. Its continuing mission - to explore America's most heavily forested state - to roam the vast coastline, numberless lakes, and mighty mountains. To boldly go where no scooter has gone before!

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Only a bit of pride was hurt...

As I journey through the aging process, my concern about being dizzy at times has grown, and a large fear was realized this week as I lost control of my Vespa. Fortunately I was still in my driveway, but I leaned left and toppled over, with the scooter pinning me to the ground.

Only a large scrape on the Vespa, and bruises to most of my left side resulted. The good news is that I am fat! With that condition comes something I like to call a 'protective shield of blubber.'

While I fell quiet hard - with enough force to snap my glasses, even though helmeted - my plunge was broken by this fortunate layer of flab.

And to think, I was planning to lose weight! Well, if I want to 'ride safe,' as our Maine motorcycle plates admonish, I can't see throwing away such a beneficial protective device.

Not too badly scarred. I won't post the photos of my personal scars. You're welcome

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

It was so warm...

The last time I posted here, Maine was experiencing a major cold spell. Today, on the first day of the last month of 2014, we have set a record for the warmest December first since thermometers were used to measure something other than the internal temperature of turkeys.
It reached 60 degrees this afternoon in Portland; the average for the date is 42. And I went for a ride, with the understanding that it was likely to be the final one without my Antarctic gear.

Indeed, at 11 pm, it's 37 degrees, with a low of 22 predicted. Snow tomorrow night. Well, it was bound to happen - this is another Maine winter after all

My last ride was just before Halloween, and Mike and I admired this artsy little display in a neighboring town boasting refined residents. In my town, we wait for the kids to snatch pumpkins from gardens, and smash them in the roads. Then we gather the exposed seeds to provide our little vandals with a fresh crop of gourds for the next autumn.

Mike blocks my way to the sandy beach, knowing my proclivity for stupid scooter stunts