A morning ride several weeks ago -- pushing, pushing through air, through space, pushing, gritting, standing, riding through the chill air, spine straight, neck extended, seeking, reaching, grasping for the day. Now, then, tomorrow. The Vespa pushes the asphalt, slicing through space towards a destination.
At 65mph at 35F the air feels cold. The Vespa provides little protection without a windshield or hand guards. With heated gloves at home I am having the naked riding experience. Armored against the cold as best I can it's always waiting, restlessly searching for an