Ruckus Scooter Love

Ruckus Scooter Love
Scootin' For A Slower Pace of Life...

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Scooting as Life: Daring the Dark

As autumn comes upon us, the daylight hours grow shorter. And like a lot of things in life, darkness comes suddenly and before you know it it is DAMN DARK!

Dark in the city is one thing, dark in the country is another.

Last night I scooted out under a lovely setting sun and within 20 minutes I was navigating a pitch dark, back road, littered with a series of gulleys, creek side sweeps and cornfields on a stretch of darkness that I had forgotten existed in this world.

To illustrate, here is a field of Polled Hereford cattle barely visible...

As I navigated this stretch of one lane back road I knew it like the back of my hand. And of course the Honda lit the way. But the feeling of it all is different in the dark.

Here is part of the stretch of that same road in daylight...

As I rode down the hill into the area alongside the creek, the darkness intensified. I became focused at this point on watching for deer to leap onto the road as they went to the stream for an evening drink.

None appeared.

I fell into a heightened state of expectation, all my senses keenly focused.

My eyes became fixated on the headlight beam from the scooter as bugs danced and zinged at my helmet visor.

My ears were drowning in the night sounds of a million singing cicadas, crickets, and night birds.

My nostrils filled with the sweet smells of creek, loam, and deep woods.

I became committed to the journey. There would be no turning back now.

Wrapped in total darkness, I curved down into the creek bottom, turning left and then emerged into the valley of endless row after row of 8 foot high corn stalks.

Had I not traveled this route through the valley before I would have been totally lost to the darkness. The corn rows, the creek, the farm houses, and the road itself all took on a surreal look in the deep blackness.

But I had confidence that I would get through this maze of darkness and uncertainty. I had done it before, I could do it again.

I looked up to see a friendly partial moon, trying to light my way...

The corn totally surrounded me, as I slowly wove through the valley road. The sight of friendly deer and fawns eluded me. There were no pole lights or porch lights on at any farm house. A bazillion bugs danced in my high beams and on my face shield.

As I moved forward, for a moment or two, the darkness seemed to be winning. I had moments of panic and my mesh jacket was not doing much to fend off the chill of the night air along the creek.

I was getting darn cold!

But I knew I was going to make it through. I had now adjusted, become focused, called upon my guides, and rallied my inner resources to push me to the finish line.

Finally, off to the left I spied a little street sign and saw my little exit road that carries me up from the valley into the residential neighborhoods near my home.

So I turned up this one lane pitch dark road and scooted swiftly up to the top of the valley overlook.

As I emerged into the blazing street lights of a residential neighborhood the world opened up again to warmer air, bug-less headlight beams, and a sense of calm certainty.

I instantly recalled the delicious sense of danger, uncertainty, and pure adventure that I had just experienced. It traveled through my bones and veins and sent a shiver of delight throughout my being!

I had just ridden in the pitch dark on a country back road through a maze of corn, cow fields, and creek side curves!

The joyous feeling of getting through and being stronger and more confident for it rinsed over my consciousness.

Scooting as life, or so it seems.


  1. Well, THAT was a good ride! When do you expect weather to turn cold in your area?

  2. Hey, good to see you back! I missed your adventures!

    I could be riding as late as Thanksgiving or later, assuming no snow or ice!

    I will check out your new blog...

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  4. DarSeptember 30, 2014 at 8:23 PM
    Oh Deb, I could smell the loamy smell of the soil, and hear the cicadas and the smell of the air from your description. What a ride!


    1. It was sweet! Luckily no cicadas tried to hitch a ride with me. I had that happen once on a bicycle. Not too fun!

  5. What a great post!

    I enjoy riding, for pleasure, after dark. Sometimes, when I am away from any homes, away from traffic, and in the middle of fields or forest, I pull off by the side of the road and shut my Vespa off.

    It is another world. The quiet, broken only by an occasional bird in the distance, is an absolutely incredible experience. The fragrance from the fields is overwhelming, something we are rarely aware of at other times. The stars are twinkling overhead, sometimes a moon. We are alone, there is no one else in all the world.

    It's a world that belongs to the lone rider stopped by the side of the road at night, and to that rider alone.

    1. I think subconsciously I needed to go into a very isolated place. I am needing that more and more...

  6. A beautiful post. I felt there with you.

    My night vision is horrible so I hate riding at night unless it is pillion behind hubby. Then I enjoy it.

    So, good for you for getting out there and having fun in the dark.

    1. Sometimes driving the car at night I have problems. Especially with those xenon (is that correct?) intense blue lights. I lose my sight momentarily with those. I thought they were supposed to be banned, but guess not.

  7. I love night riding and hope you will do more. The sensation of flight is heightened. Anything is possible in the dark.

    1. I loved the darkness out on the farm. I hardly ever see the stars here anymore. *sigh*

  8. It IS magical Deb and you've captured it extremely well....nicely done!

  9. Lovely post Deb. I actually enjoyed riding home at 1 or 2 AM when I used to work that shift. There is just something about being enveloped into the dark and feeling part of the world that day light riding doesn't capture.