I believe in guilty pleasures and have reached the point in my life where I’m not above a little “whim clicking*” on Amazon or jumping on my fanciful three-wheeled scooter to blow the garden dirt from my cutoffs and go putt putting out to any of the three farm stands that are within 15 miles of my house here in avocado-infested Escondido.
I have a long history with motor cycles going ack to 1964 when I bought my first bike, a sporty Honda 50cc. Since then I’ve owned a succession of bikes that I’ve used to break writer’s blocks or enjoy a gorgeous Spring evenings by riding to the nearest fishing hole.
My current bike is very different than anything I’ve owned or ridden before. It’s an upmarket Vespa called a Piaggio MP3 400. I love it a lot but don’t use it enough to keep the battery fully charged.
I went out for a putt putt east to the next town this evening, thinking 60 minutes at 4,000 RPM would bring my battery up enough so tt would start on Tuesday, when I have an appointment at the VA in Oceanside CA to be get a new pair of glasses.
Tonight’s trip was a blast. Although my bike is technically a scooter, it has a 400cc,four-stroke, engine that’s strong enough to haul my butt up and over the mountain road to Valley Center. Before leaving, I threw my cloth market bag into my bike’s storage compartment, anticipating buying some locally grown strawberries and oranges for the larder.
I may have gone slightly overboard at the farm store. I forked over $3.50 for two oranges, a large container of strawberries, and splurged another buck on two plump cherimoyas.
It all fit nicely in my cloth Trader Joes reusable bag which I sportily hung from the curved bag hook on the bike.
There’s never a shortage of weekend warriors headed home from the casinos in Valley Center on Harleys. After being passed by a herd thundering up the hill towards home, I twisted up more power and tucked into the end of the procession.
At the first stop light on my way home, a guy on a really nice new Harley looked over and laughed. When the light changed, I throttled up, the front wheesl lifted, and I smiled.
Another beautiful day, another putt putt on my fanciful Italian Motor scooter--jim forbes 25 April 2016.
*”Whim Clicking” is a phrase popularized by Dr Andy Sobieski DDS, MS Industrial Arts BS science an Education. Dr Andy is the funniest person I know.