Five miles of scooting this morning on what is becoming one of my favorite scoots, rolling north from home and around some of the trails in Lake Sammamish State Park. I see many birds, some squirrels and rabbits and catch a glimpse of a deer who is quicker than my camera.
Scooting has a rhythm that suits me. My joints don't feel pounded like they would if I ran. There is a physical element to scooting that rewards smoothness and encourages the development of technique. In the past few weeks I have learned things about how far forward to reach my kicking leg. where to engage the ball of my foot on the kick off, how long to kick, how deep to bend the leg that is on the scooter deck. I have learned to sight the smoothest line on a path, to shift my weight best in turns, to trade off kicking legs to my best advantage. Mostly these are things I don't think about now, they are merely things I do. I am Scooterman.
My scooting proceeds at a contemplative pace. I am rolling slow enough to see things, fast enough to get the places that I need to go. I can work up speed by working up a sweat or by recouping the effort invested in a climb in a sweeping descent. I notice smaller slopes now and the tinier bits of green that are the valley I call home.
Keep 'em rolling,
Kent "Mountain Turtle" Peterson
Issaquah, WA USA
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