a flock of giant cranes:

perched along the piers in san francisco.

still, silent, waiting for what?

imperial walkers:

ready for deployment. active at a moment's notice. but, for now, they stand still.

silhouettes in the sunset, breaking up the line where the ocean meets the sky. dark and stoic amidst the swirls of fire that fill the heavens.

an interesting contrast:

the straight lines, the geometric patterns of the cargo cranes against the beauty of the sunset. the man-made starkness against the ripples of reflection off the seawater...

you should go see them sometime.

don't talk to me like you know anything about scooters. you don't.

i promise.

"so you ride a vespa knockoff?"

wipe that smug look off your face. prick. what do you ride?

that's right. you don't.

i could tell you about the joint venture between vespa and lml that resulted in the original p-series. but you wouldn't listen.

i could tell you about how lml continued manufacturing those same p-series vespas long after vespa pulled out. but you wouldn't listen.

i could tell you how that same plant still turns out those same scooters, but now you can get one badged as a "stella". but you wouldn't listen.

i could tell you about how my manual transmission, metal bodied stella is more vespa than vespa is. but you wouldn't listen.

i could tell you how my buddy's 2005 px150 'serie america' is almost 100 percent parts interchangeable with my 2005 genuine stella... an amazing feat for any two vehicles. but you wouldn't listen.

no, i don't ride a vespa knockoff. i ride a stella.

"yeah. i lived in italy, and that doesn't look like a real vespa."

that's right. if i had swapped out the badges, you would have asked me what year my vespa was.

don't talk to me like you know anything about scooters. because you don't.

the border patrol. what an untidy group of little fascists.

i think they take some sadistic pleasure in making sure as many people as possible have an unpleasant experience crossing the border.

my experience started out okay. a few quick questions. i think they're required to ask them in the sternest voice they can muster.

"where do you plan on going?"
"how long are you staying in canada?"
"did you really ride that thing all the way from utah? how fast does it go?"

it's true, what they say.

things can't always work out.

relationships, exams, friendships, the weather. nothing will ever be exactly what we want from it.

but we wouldn't think to control the weather. that's preposterous. sometimes it's sunny, sometimes it rains.

yet we pour our all into something we feel like we can control. a relationship that doesn't work out. a final we aren't as prepared for as we thought. or hoped. or wanted to be.

i don't think that's failure. sure, we could have done more. but we didn't.

sure, on a different day, in a different life, sometime, somewhere, it might have been exactly the way we envisioned. but it wasn't.

"Nobody has things just as he would like them. The thing to do is to make a success with what material I have. It is a sheer waste of time and soul-power to imagine what I would do if things were different. They are not different."

Dr. Frank Crane.

know what the beauty of it is? they don't need to be different. i'll take them exactly as they are.

i used to be thankful for the rain. it reminded me how great sunny days can be. i thought i was enlightened. a sort of "see the good in the bad things you have to deal with" attitude.

but why settle for that? isn't it better to be happy for the rain? isn't it better to appreciate the light sting of raindrops on your face at 60 mph? isn't it better to wade through knee-deep puddles because you want to?

why make your happiness contingent upon something outside of your control?

if you learn to love the rain, you can be happy all of the time.

it was a small fire. and the part that died isn't vital. but it did clear up the fuse mystery.

i stopped by the scooter shop in boise to see if they could do anything about the tail light fuse. we pulled her apart, but didn't find anything obvious, so jordan had me follow him up to their shop. i think we made it a block before she started on fire.

i hate the smell of burning plastic.

turns out there was a white plastic thing called a switching module that was defective on my scooter. the switching module was added on the more recent stellas, and does something that helps keep the battery from dying, or something like that. but not the least bit essential for stella to run.

since it's not a part they keep on hand, we remedied the situation by bypassing the switching module completely. i'll get it fixed later, i guess.

but the four hour delay was enough to keep me from making it to seattle on time. poop.

the lady at the scooter shop thought i might make it to the base of the blues. i made it to tri-cities before it got completely dark.

i stopped for the night at my parents' house. four hours short of seattle.

they'll have to have the party without me.

that had to have been one of the most surreal storms i've been caught in.

i was riding toward boise, about an hour out. the rain clouds on the horizon looked ominous, but i've been wet before.

and then the lightning. that was cool too. except that i was heading straight into it. i thought it might be a good idea to pick up some rain gear, so i turned around and headed back to the walmart in mountain home, idaho.

and that's when i noticed the rest of the storm. what i thought was a storm on the way to boise was behind me as well. in fact, i was almost surrounded by this crazy, dark thunderstorm. it was odd that it was still so warm and dry right in the middle of it all. but i wasn't about to complain.

made it to walmart, found out they didn't have any rain gear, and about then the rain let loose. it seems the storm wasn't all that small. it was about 50 miles wide, and went from twin falls idaho to portland oregon.

there was no way i'd ride through that.

so i found a hotel. i'll get a fresh start on things in the morning.

Welcome to Justin's latest adventure. In this issue, we will explore the many fun and interesting experiences to be had while wandering aimlessly about the country on a scooter.

Our story starts some months back, with an impromptu trip to Portland for the Portland Lindy Exchange. Around 10:30 at night, I decided that I'd go. About half an hour later, we were on the road.

From there, my boss flew me out to New York City, to do a bit of work. About three weeks, to be exact.

Then to Sacramento. Which was pretty OK as well.

Somewhere in the middle of my month as a vagabond, I realized what a tentative concept 'home' is.

It was as if I didn't have a home. Sure I was paying rent. My clothes and everything had somewhere to live.

But why did it have to be that way? I work for a company based in Connecticut. And I live almost all the way across the country. I have very few commitments, nothing other than the ties of acquaintances to keep me in one place over another. But I have friends everywhere.

So what was keeping me in one place? I couldn't figure it out.

I decided to leave.

i'd never noticed how cold sardine canyon is. maybe because every other time i've been through it, i had a roof and windows and doors. this time it was just me and a jacket at midnight.

and a tail light that keeps going out.

stella started blowing tail light fuses a couple of days ago. at first it was sporadic. then more regular. the one i put in at walmart in ogden lasted almost 45 minutes. that was enough to get me through the canyon. luckily.

tomorrow i'll stop by the scooter shop in boise to check it out.