Vespista

Rolling Through Roslyn
(not my photo)

The past couple of days were spent surrounded by the waspish buzz of Vespas! It was the annual rally of the Vespa Club of DC (VCDC), the Monumental Raduno. The club, which had a slow start immediately pre-pandemic, sponsors group rides, fixes up and gifts to college students some donated scooters, and holds this annual rally. This year, there were a record number of Vespista* who signed up, just shy of 100 people. While all scooters are welcome to events, the club specifically celebrates Italian culture.

I went on a few group rides sponsored by a different DC-area scooter group pre-pandemic, but this was my first VCDC event. Since I knew absolutely no one, I signed up to volunteer to help. I am very shy in new situations, and usually end up hanging in a corner alone, or even backing out entirely due to anxiety at the last moment. Volunteering meant I was certain to have to talk to people.

The weather in Washington has been unrelentingly grey and wet for a week or more, and Friday dawned pouring. The plan for an outdoor Friday night kickoff party was changed to an incredible indoor venue, hosted by a club member who just happens to own a tech company with its headquarters in a modern building next to the Potomac in trendy Georgetown. We took over the reception and cafeteria area of the company offices, including some touches one might expect of a tech company: ping-pong table, putting green, an outdoor terrace overlooking the river and forests of Virginia. We also had access to free indoor parking, an incredible benefit in busy Georgetown on a Friday night. 

At the Italian Embassy.
My bike is the blue, 3rd from right

I had decided in advance I would drive my car to the Friday night event, skipping the planned night ride around downtown DC and also avoiding a long scoot home by myself in the dark and rain. The skies cleared during our casual sandwich dinner and announcements, allowing us to spend time out on the deck admiring the view. It turns out the folks in the club are very friendly, so I didn't need to worry so much about hanging out alone. A common conversation opener was, "How long have you been riding?". When I stopped to think, I was surprised to realize my answer is "20 years"! I got my first motorcycle license (required for above 50cc motorbikes) in 2004, which seems like yesterday. In my conversations, most men (grey-haired) downsized into scoots from motorcycles, often to ride with their wives. There were more young women than young men, as well as those my age.

Colors of the Italian flag, at the embassy

I woke Saturday at 6 am to the sound of pouring rain, but by my 8 am departure time for the rendezvous there were signs of the grey mist burning off. We ended up having the only sunny day for many days (and for several more days to come). What a treat!

We gathered outside the Dupont Circle area hotel where out of town guests were staying. (A small group came over from Italy, and about a dozen people rode down in the rain from New York together.) After a safety briefing (which included teaching hand signals used) we formed up into a column and headed out for a 45 minute ride through DC and over to Virginia. The group ride was so fun! Because there were so many of us (50+ at least) our ride included "blockers" - folks who rode alongside the column, and sometimes blocked cross-traffic to allow us to flow on through red lights. With the traffic circles and such, it would otherwise have been impossible to move with that many people. As we were going through areas with government offices and embassies, we rolled on through red lights right in front of many police cars, who seemed indifferent to our maneuvers. 

Modernist Embassy,
Many scoots!

That ride ended up at the Italian Embassy, which opened up the grounds just for us! We parked in a colorful line, and were treated to expresso and gelato. Some minor cultural official from the embassy greeted us - apparently real world events were occupying the ambassador.

Further events involved splitting up into small groups for more rides, lunch, and then a gymkhana. That last is a skills event held in a parking lot, focusing on tight maneuvers. It looked like nothing so much as dog agility, weaving around cones, driving over a teeter-totter(!), around into tight circles, kicking a ball into a soccer net without any feet touching the ground. I didn't give it a try, but I might practice for a future event. 

Lining up to go for a ride
(not my photo)

I was so occupied with enjoying myself, I took few photos. So this post includes some taken by others.

It was a lot of fun! There are some group rides coming up, and I might make the next one. It will compete for time with sailing, which has also been scarce due to the good weather.

*Vespista is the correct non-gendered plural for those who ride Vespas, which is the Italian word for wasp.

On the Road Again

This morning at Lake Artemesia

I don't exactly know how or why, but I seem to have got my mojo back on several fronts! And now, stand back, because I'm on the go!

I parked my Vespa scooter several years ago. First, I had a vertigo outbreak in the early spring, before I had put my bike on the road for the season. The vertigo lasted about a week, with two very bad days when I couldn't walk for some period of time due to total loss of balance. I totally lost confidence in my ability to deal with gravity even after the attack subsided - not a great attitude for leaning around curves on a two-wheeled vehicle! Also, the type of vertigo I had, BPPV, is likely to recur. (But it hasn't, so far.) So that took me off the road for a year. Then, no surprise, the bike wouldn't start when I tried it after sitting for a year. I bought a new battery, and last year made another attempt to get it going, to no avail. 

This spring, I determined I had to either ride it or get rid of it. I had been thinking an electric bike might be a better proposition. But I really couldn't see buying a expensive new toy while I had a very similar one parked in my driveway already. In addition, where the bike is housed is one of the sunniest spots in my yard - I was eying it as a place to put more plants if I got rid of the Vespa. A dear friend, a motorcycle maestro, came over last weekend and he got my bike to start right up! I rode around on the street and it seemed sound and appeared to be running well. At the least an oil change seemed necessary before really relying on the bike, so I made an appointment to take it to the dealer for a tune-up (no user-serviceable parts inside). 

The dealer is about 15 miles (and two states!) away, in Arlington, Virginia. I worked myself up to it riding around the neighborhood some, to get both my muscle memory and my systems memory fully back up to speed. My body seemed to know what it was doing (I first started on motorcycles about twenty years ago) but I needed to resort to the manual to remember how to work all the buttons. I really was keyed up for the ride to the dealer, studying maps and trying to memorize the routes, as I wouldn't be able to look at my phone during the trip. To get to Virginia, I would have to go into DC and across the Potomac. The District of Columbia into Virginia can be very confusing, with a plethora of roads going in very strange directions. It would be easy to accidentally end up on an expressway and be stuck there for a few miles. With a top speed of around 60 mph (and cruising capability around 50) technically I could be on an expressway, but remember, this was the trip to make sure the bike would be reliable to try to go that fast. I also certainly need more practice and confidence before doing that again!

The day of the service drop-off dawned rainy. I had scrounged through my closets and found my old riding jackets didn't fit, as the Vespa idle period coincided with my gaining 20 pounds. I scrutinized my weather apps and set off between deluges. I had an uneventful 40 minute drive, dropped off the bike to a nice Italian service guy, and treated myself to a wonderful lunch in a cafe in upscale Arlington. The DC metro has lousy service these days, with the local line closed down entirely right now, so I also treated myself to an Uber the whole way back.

I picked up the bike on Saturday ("we don't often have to remove a mouse nest from the engine!" they said in that charming Italian accent, and charged me about 20% of what I originally paid for the bike) and I had another uneventful and confidence-building ride home. So I'm ready to go! Small local errands, fun rides, perhaps even going off with the scooter gang I rode with pre-pandemic! I call it "fresh air without the exercise" and I've remembered how much of a smile this puts on my face.

But in other exciting road news, I have gone back to running! At least, I've stuck my barest toe in! 

Both knees are currently in an ok state. They hurt, but at levels I can stand. And so far, most activities have not caused them to hurt worse than they feel just sitting around. On my trip to Bellport, I walked more than four miles in sand, and I've been trying for three mile walks two or three times a week. I have a New Year's goal of making it 10 miles in one day by the end of the year. But walking takes a long time to get the miles in - a three-mile walk by itself takes me slightly more than an hour, and I have to get organized, get the right shoes on, put the dogs away, and maybe drive somewhere first. So I decided to try running again.

I've actually had a bit of a Thing about running. It seemed impossible to do again. The mechanics of running are distinct from walking, and I I couldn't make myself do it. My knees hurt, but all the muscles of my legs have been tight. Crossing the street, needing to hurry, I couldn't go into a jog. I would lean forward, then tense up and not be able to do it. I had an image of a face plant in the middle of the street from a leg collapsing under me. 

When I was running regularly, I ran intervals between walks. The length of my running intervals varied widely, from a mile of non-stop running all the way down to 30 seconds, but the technique, of running and then walking for a minute or two for recovery, is sound. The theory of very short intervals, especially for beginning runners, is that you can sustain the mix for much longer than you can sustain just running, and so your body gets more thoroughly conditioned to running. Your heart and breathing rates repeatedly go up to running levels, and then recover before you do it again. I also had a couple of sessions with a running coach who specialized in a technique known as "chi running". It is supposed to lead to fewer running injuries. The essence of the technique is to lean forward from your ankles (not your waist) and a foot will automatically lift up and move forward to keep you from falling. A fast cadence is stressed, with a faster pace leading to longer steps but the same cadence.

After hitting the turnaround point for my three mile walk one day this week, I decided to see if I could overcome this Thing and run. I leaned forward, and my foot lifted up, and then I was running! To the untrained eye, I was "just barely jogging" but to me it was everything. I could feel the muscles in my thighs waking up in surprise! "What's going on here? I remember this!" The form came back to me, and it felt good. I ran just three short intervals interspersed with walks, and then swaggered my way back home, feeling quite a bit taller and more confident. The Thing was gone.

I went out this morning to a nearby trail that makes a mile and a half loop in a pretty setting, equipped with my running watch and running playlists. I walked a lot, and ran my structured intervals for a bit, totalling two loops. I'm highly satisfied with where I am with this, even though I barely kept up with a (young) person walking while I was running. I hope to work up to doing 5K races again, but even if I don't, it's all good. My body is capable, I am capable, and if the body starts to decline, it's possible even at the advanced age of nearly 70 to recover some of the mojo.

I'll leave you with this: schedules and weather finally combined to get us out on the Bay! Yay, sailing! I'm on the go, on two wheels and four, and two feet, and by sea! Stand back, here I come!