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I was so excited when I bought my scooter last year. I spent months planning my first camping trip. A trip I took at the end of August. My neighbors said I looked like Martha Stewart. I had made custom saddlebags that matched the neon green color of the scooter and I spent many hours pondering over and making my camping list.
Camping on a scooter is tricky. There is not much room on the seat, and I had to consider the extra weight my gear would add. Overall, I was pleased with my efforts. I had a dome tent, air mattress, cook kit, and an extra change of clothes. I headed toward Alpine, taking the back roads through the Sycuan Indian Reservation and Casino.
Of course, I stopped at the Casino. I parked my little Chinese scooter next to the big Harleys, and felt just as bad to the bone, as anyone else who takes their life in their hands by driving the roads on two wheels, instead of the normal four.
I enjoy the back roads. I will take the road less traveled even when I am not limited by a top comfortable speed of 58mph. When a car comes up behind me clearly driving way over the speed limit, I gently pull to the side of the road and wave at them to go around, I am not in any hurry.
I remember that the breeze was perfumed with the smell of alfalfa hay. I remember many years ago I made a trip like this on horseback.
I like to go camping. I like watching the wildlife, hearing the crickets chirp, and the water gurgle over the rocks. I feel peaceful when I am alone in the woods.
Alas, my scooter is dead, my back broken but healing. I miss the freedom my little scooter gave me during its brief existence in my life.
I have discovered through my sojourn on the sidewalks of La Mesa, riding my electric mobility scooter, that wildlife is everywhere. There is a noisy flock of some kind of parrot which buzzes my building several times a day.
There are possums living on the hill behind my apartment. I saw a hawk bring down a pigeon in the parking lot of the 99cents Store.
And there is huge raccoon who scavenges for food in the dumpster next door. I met this raccoon one night while sitting outside with a neighbor.
My back was to the wall and she pointed behind me and said, “Look at the big cat on the wall.” I turned, and the only thing I saw was a long fluffy striped tail attached to a very large rodent like ass.
“That’s not a cat.” I exclaimed. The raccoon, alarmed by our voices ran down the wall and leaped to the ground. We could hear the leaves rustling. I quickly moved to the rear of the wall where I could peer over and possibly catch another glimpse of our portly visitor.
When he saw me looking at him over the top of the wall, he stopped and he stood up on his hind legs and spread his paws apart like he was greeting me, or like a catcher waiting for the pitch.
I was in awe at how large this animal was. He was easily the size of a small child. We stared at each other for a few seconds, and then he ambled along and disappeared into the brush.
A few nights ago, I saw an owl flying after dark. Seeing the owl fly in the dark over the streetlights, I had a sense, of how persistent life is, in all its forms.
I was so excited when I bought my scooter last year. I spent months planning my first camping trip. A trip I took at the end of August. My neighbors said I looked like Martha Stewart. I had made custom saddlebags that matched the neon green color of the scooter and I spent many hours pondering over and making my camping list.
Camping on a scooter is tricky. There is not much room on the seat, and I had to consider the extra weight my gear would add. Overall, I was pleased with my efforts. I had a dome tent, air mattress, cook kit, and an extra change of clothes. I headed toward Alpine, taking the back roads through the Sycuan Indian Reservation and Casino.
Of course, I stopped at the Casino. I parked my little Chinese scooter next to the big Harleys, and felt just as bad to the bone, as anyone else who takes their life in their hands by driving the roads on two wheels, instead of the normal four.
I enjoy the back roads. I will take the road less traveled even when I am not limited by a top comfortable speed of 58mph. When a car comes up behind me clearly driving way over the speed limit, I gently pull to the side of the road and wave at them to go around, I am not in any hurry.
I remember that the breeze was perfumed with the smell of alfalfa hay. I remember many years ago I made a trip like this on horseback.
I like to go camping. I like watching the wildlife, hearing the crickets chirp, and the water gurgle over the rocks. I feel peaceful when I am alone in the woods.
Alas, my scooter is dead, my back broken but healing. I miss the freedom my little scooter gave me during its brief existence in my life.
I have discovered through my sojourn on the sidewalks of La Mesa, riding my electric mobility scooter, that wildlife is everywhere. There is a noisy flock of some kind of parrot which buzzes my building several times a day.
There are possums living on the hill behind my apartment. I saw a hawk bring down a pigeon in the parking lot of the 99cents Store.
And there is huge raccoon who scavenges for food in the dumpster next door. I met this raccoon one night while sitting outside with a neighbor.
My back was to the wall and she pointed behind me and said, “Look at the big cat on the wall.” I turned, and the only thing I saw was a long fluffy striped tail attached to a very large rodent like ass.
“That’s not a cat.” I exclaimed. The raccoon, alarmed by our voices ran down the wall and leaped to the ground. We could hear the leaves rustling. I quickly moved to the rear of the wall where I could peer over and possibly catch another glimpse of our portly visitor.
When he saw me looking at him over the top of the wall, he stopped and he stood up on his hind legs and spread his paws apart like he was greeting me, or like a catcher waiting for the pitch.
I was in awe at how large this animal was. He was easily the size of a small child. We stared at each other for a few seconds, and then he ambled along and disappeared into the brush.
A few nights ago, I saw an owl flying after dark. Seeing the owl fly in the dark over the streetlights, I had a sense, of how persistent life is, in all its forms.