Yesterday afternoon I took a little 12 mile or so ride on my scooter. The odo rolled over 4k miles while I was out, which means I’ve ridden this silly wonderful little thing over a thousand miles in the scant three months I’ve owned it. Granted, nearly half of those were last weekend running it in the Gambler 500-Illinois, but still.

I’ve been riding for a little over two years now. I’ve been loving it, no doubt, but riding 492 miles on all kinds of roads, much of it in cold damp conditions, has changed my perspective on this hobby significantly.

Yesterday when I went for a ride, it was 58 degrees, damp, with the first of fall’s fallen leaves on the road. Last year, I would’ve just felt sorry for myself that I didn’t have a perfect day to ride. You know what? It was a great little ride. I put on a hoodie and gloves, rode a little slower than I normally would, and had a ball.

Last Wednesday, I did something else I never would’ve done. After the Gambler, with my truck’s brake line blown and AAA taking their sweet ass time getting me a tow truck, I went home in Bill’s extra car. Once my truck was done being repaired a few days later, I had to bring Bill’s car back and ride my scooter home.

That’s a 25 miles ride, on some big roads. I mocked Bill in the past for suggesting that scooting between our houses was a viable option. My, how wrong I was. I did it late at night, to minimize traffic. I also took a different route than the one we use by car, to avoid getting my scooting ass run over. It was a wonderful ride. One I intend to repeat.

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It turns out you don’t need perfect conditions to enjoy being on two wheels. Who knew? Some of you knew, but now I know too.