Scooter Saga

I deal with the winter cold by putting on multiple layers of clothing, gloves, and resigning myself to the length of time it takes to get out the door, but what about the rain?  I draw the line at fog, ice, wind, and heavy rain--a semi-fair weather scooter; I’m not stupid.  I am talking about a threat of rain, a drizzle, or getting caught in a light rain on my daily scoot.  This is, after all, the northwest and if I let a threat of rain keep me home, I’d never go anywhere.  I have gotten addicted to getting out every day. The solution Earl and I settled on was the rain canopy.  If I hadn’t gotten used to looking strange a long time ago, this would have done me in.  It may cover my hazard sign and limit my vision, but you can still see my lights and the canopy itself--a mile off!  I do incur a new road hazard if the oncoming vehicle’s driver is laughing hysterically at me.  "A golf cart? no, too small; a stroller? no, too big.  It’s a lady on a scooter-- I think." B

The challenge in Maui was to find a scooting route that had little traffic (difficult) and was out of the Hawaiian tradewinds to avoid the blowing red dirt in our eyes (never happened) .  It was fun to go with Earl and our friends on their long morning walks, rather than stay home and wait for their return.  I can maintain a brisk walking speed, but not a running speed.  I managed the local swap meet without careening into anyone (Skeeter has good brakes).  It was also nice not to have to put insulating layers of clothing on like I do in Portland. One of our treks took us down into a wash where I needed to scoot on thin wood boards someone had laid down over the deep sand (love that small footprint and big rear tires) .  Skeeter only fell off the boards once, but since I was with three capable pushers, we made it to terra firma pretty quickly.  Sometimes it’s best not to think abut a route too much; just do it. It had been so easy flying with Skeeter on the trip over,  I w

One month prior to Skeeter’s first plane trip.  It was important to us to be responsible travelers, early, prepared and as little bother as possible.  After googling Hawaiian Airlines’ policies, I proceeded to gather as much information as I could. My email We are taking  Hawaiian Airlines flight 39 from PDX to Kahului, Maui 10/28/2011 and have reviewed and printed out all Hawaiian Airlines regulations regarding motorized scooters. There is no assembly/disassembly of the motorized scooter required. I will scoot to the gate and leave the scooter intact to be rolled onto the plane. A standard airline wheelchair from the gate to the plane door would be helpful. I can walk to my seat with assistance from my husband. On arrival in Kahului, I will wait for my scooter at the gate ( prepared to be patient) . I thought that was helpful, direct and simple.  The seller had recommended that we remove anything breakable, not to do any disassembly, take the key, put the scooter in neu

Disclaimer:  You may not like this, particularly if you’re not USA American-born and raised, younger than 50, or male.  If necessary, contact a lawyer. Who’d have thought that Skeeter would help me indulge in one of my guilty pleasures.  I love all sorts of music--the more romantic, dumber and sappier, the better.  I remember a time when all we or American Bandstand cared about was whether you could dance to a song.  Now I can install Pandora radio on my IPhone, make ridiculous stations, not offend anyone, and scoot away.  Skeeter doesn’t have eyes to roll at 50s Doo-wop, early 60s bubble-gum music, Elvis Presley nor can she swoon at the Righteous Brothers or Il Divo.  It’s just me alone and no crap--my idea of heaven.  Earl’s music tastes are a bit more sophisticated. While we do share a love of most music genres  (Beatles, classical, Eagles, country/bluegrass, the 70s troubadors) , there is a line he doesn’t cross; he has some standards.  Not me when I’m scooting alone–unle

Another thing I like about Skeeter--it may take me forever to get dressed for a ride, but I don’t have to worry about what I look like.  Since I wear a helmet, there’s no point in spending time on my hair. Hair combed and out of my face is much easier to accomplish than trying to blow-dry and style with diminished manual dexterity.  Since I wear big sunglasses (not exactly goggles, but close) , very little of my face is visible, so no make-up is called for.  Everytime I decide to go slowly and “really apply makeup carefully this time”, I give up and decide to hell with it.  Poking myself in the eye while applying anything is so not fun.  Why do I even bother?-- vanity, thy name is woman.   As women go, I’m in the mid-range of vanity, but still in the range. Glancing in Skeeter’s rearview mirror, I resemble a bug ; recognizable, but still a bug on a scooter–wearing a helmet.   The main consideration is destination.  If I’m scooting somewhere and taking my helmet and glasses off,

Kyle So I’m scooting along on one of my neighborhood routes and pass the house with the two small children.  “Mom, look at that old lady!  She’s playing music--do you think she has any ice cream?”  Ah, children--they’ve taught me that they can handle most things if I’m direct and honest.  Children don’t worry about what’s polite to say.  If they want to know something, they ask. Unlike adults, who don’t want to embarrass me, children don’t pretend they understand or hear me (that telltale blank stare is a dead give away of a message not received) .  They say so right away.  That’s much easier to deal with--no stress or second-guessing.  Zoe My grandchildren don't mind that I speak slowly, slur my words, need a rollator to walk, scoot from place to place, or take forever to move. I’ve been painted on, stickered on, treated like a big toy, a horse, an easily-bossed person and a game player that always dependably loses.  As a grandparent, I happily don’t have t

The new battery has the original zip, I've gone up my most common hills and, thankfully, I haven't had to call for help.  Today was a beautiful Fall day, and well could be one of the last before the serious rain comes.  I was able to see my friends and assure them of my well-being.  I just needed to get my scooting confidence back, so I made a run down to Lake Oswego, bought picture hanging paraphernalia at Rite Aid and scooted home.  A trip to  Home Depot  is next, but I'll wait until Earl's home, in case. Pollyanna Alert!  I never realized how much I enjoy outdoor smells--grass (lawn grass) , impending rain, wood fires, pine trees.  I think that is one of the biggest losses to the housebound person.  Not to say that someone has to get out.  I think back to the days before my mother's death, I thought she needed and wanted to be outside--she didn't.  When I insisted, she'd humor me, ignore my patronizing, and go--but she really didn't want to.

I like my scooter more than my Wii Fit balance board.  Skeeter doesn’t lecture me when I miss workouts--”too busy to workout yesterday, Tam?”  She doesn’t criticize my balance–“a little shaky, today?” I argue back, “Seriously Wii, ya think?”  She doesn’t remind me that my weight is up, down, whatever...”did you reach your goal, Tam?”   Most importantly, she doesn’t brand me with a Wii fit age.  Even though I intellectually know it’s all computerized and impersonal, I still respond to criticism like a teenager. Once I sit down on Skeeter I can relax, knowing I won’t fall and my body won’t get in my way.  One of the hardest things to get used to is the inability to efficiently get out of my own way.  My feet, boobs, hips... don’t move with a casual sidestep or dodge like they used to.  Movements that I never gave a thought to like getting in and out of a car, opening a refrigerator, door or pantry take forethought and several carefully orchestrated steps. But, back to

OK, maybe it was me, the heat or the full moon, but Skeeter just wasn’t right.  The battery ran out of power when it shouldn’t, Skeeter was slower than she used to be, the battery discharged alarmingly quickly, and we couldn’t go where I wanted without wearing Depends.  I miss my new friends!  They probably think I’m road kill somewhere.  Three and a half months isn’t very long.  Did I break her?  I tried to be a good mom... So I call the place where we bought her and, in good troubleshooting mode, the sales person asks me if I’m using good battery hygiene .  “Seriously?”  I said.  “Do you mean do I wash the battery (no) or practice safe sex (Hell no) .  Or do you mean do I charge it every night (absolutely) .  My primary concern–was I fully discharging it after every use (not sure, should I?) .   In anticipation of my appointment, I used, then completely discharged, then fully charged for a week.  You’d think I was taking Skeeter in for a blood test or a Pap smear.  Thurs

Going down to the library is a (pardon the expression) “no-brainer” scoot--reasonable distance, predictable terrain, no charging issues...a short jaunt.  So I confidently take off.  Usually, I lose one to two green dots on the second to the last hill going home.  It’s a steep hill and I expect significant slowing, but it’s only about two miles, albeit uphill, from the library, and a further mile home.  No need to worry about adequate power or need for a bathroom stop. Battery Indicator About a fourth of a mile from the library, the scooter begins to lose green dots in a location I’ve never lost power before.  I’m thinking it might be better to take a less steep route home.  It’s all uphill, but there is uphill and UPHILL.  The less steep route has more traffic, but since I have the time, I’ll just be slow and cautious.  My one hour jaunt stretched to two hours.  I usually keep a close eye on the charging dial, but since there was no choice but to head home, I decided to just

Earl and I made a list and there were a few things needed at our local New Seasons market.  It was close, making it a good destination for my daily scoot.  I could help, so I took one bag that would fit in my basket, one that I could put between my feet and headed off, Earl taking the bigger shopping and more distant destinations. I take my customary route, the market doors open automatically (yes! ADA) , scoot in, prepared for today’s lesson (by now, I know it’s coming)  My first observation was a young mother, two boys and one of the toy car/carts that require as much room as a small car, with less turning radius.  Now, there’s a challenge!  The most I can handle is one of the shopping baskets that fits between my feet.  I brought 2 grocery bags from home, but forgot the see-through plastic bags for fruits and vegetables. New Seasons had some stationed throughout the department, within easy reach and I used them with a guilty conscience (it’s Oregon).  The fruits and vegetables we

I’ve become a sidewalk groupie, scouting out routes to my most common haunts.  I go nowhere now without a full scooter and cell phone charge, scooter charger with me, emergency information, cell phone numbers of potential rescuers, blah, blah, blah.  I’m on the lookout for routes with sidewalks, handicapped ramps up to sidewalks, and crossing signals I can reach.  You’d be amazed how many crossing signals are designed for standing people or worse yet, a signal at waist level, but out of a reasonable reach.  Don’t even get me started on how many sidewalks just dead end without warning.  A “back up” mode on a scooter is helpful. I actually encountered a crossing signal that stumped me.  I’m used to WAIT and WALK , the Stop hand and the Walking figure , and the chirping sound .  I try to obey all signals, but couldn’t figure out a Small Amber Light and a Small Amber Blinking Light (no sound) .  After sitting there for two light cycles, I decided to check for traffic, push the crossin

By now, I had thrown the worst hills at the scooter--Knaus Road, Timberline, Boca Raton, Touchstone.  I was confidant that, with a full battery charge, there was nothing she couldn’t handle.  Besides, I always got a warning that power was waning.  I had learned my lesson. When Jason invited us over to his house in Mt. Park to spend time with Zoe (6) and Lexi (3), I decided to scoot, Earl was driving.  I had been there and back before without difficulty.  So, to avoid the traffic over Mt. Park, I decided to take the path that goes up through the middle.  Heidi, Jason, and I often took the route from our home and played at the small playground along side of the path when they were little, so it was somewhat familiar territory.  How different could the bottom part be from the top part?  Answer-- very different .  I got up about two-thirds of the way on a rough and steep path, but surprisingly, I had all 5 green, 2 amber, and 2 reds dots, indicating a full charge and no power loss.  Yea!

Down Timberline So, we bought Skeeter the first of June with a bigger battery.  I ventured out, tackled the worst hills, scooted down to Lake Oswego and back, met some people--I had it nailed.  One morning, I decided to scooter down to LO, shop, go to the bank, library and scoot home.  Now, I always make sure Skeeter charges overnight and is ready in the morning.  This morning, I was certain I had plugged the scooter in the previous day and that the only reason it was unplugged was that Earl had helpfully disconnected it before leaving for work.  To make a long story shorter, I was heading home on the last hill when I realized I was out of battery power.  “Suck it up, Tam.  Call a neighbor and admit you need help.”  I called my neighbor Shauna and had her standby for emergency pickup, but I was pretty certain I could putt home eventually.  I discovered the scooter recovers a bit on flatter terrain and that gives you about 10 more feet. Timberline & Knaus While doing that,

Grand daughter Zoe shamed me.  Actually I do wear a helmet while triking, but was cavalier about safety while scootering. So, I pimped my ride with a tall safety flag; 1 flashing white front light; 2 flashing red rear lights; Yield  I mean really ...  If a driver still can’t see me, he’s either blind, having a heart attack or is trying to hit me.  There’s only so much you can do.

The final rental at the end of May, a four wheeled (decided to go with stability) model.  Even with a small battery, I could handle the neighborhood hills (Earl followed me in the car since the machine was new and unfamiliar; did I mention he had fractured his leg and was on crutches?) and didn’t appear to lose a charge.  I could even meet my friend Barbara for coffee at Starbucks and not lose much battery power.  So Barbara went for her workout and I headed home. Going home, I discovered a full charge means on flat surfaces .  There were 3 hills going home. I made it up the first hill slowly but on battery.  By the second hill, I was officially out of battery power.  I’m desperately scooting with my legs to beat the band, to no avail (surprised?) .  I have to call Earl to come get me--did I mention he had fractured his leg and was on crutches?  “I’ll be right there with the van,” he says.  But when he went out, the van battery was dead as well.  Fortunately, the Prius was fine an

By April, I’m thinking a scooter is in my future.  Should I go with three wheels or four?  So I try a three wheeled rental scooter in Maui.  It was a bit more maneuverable, but less stable and had less speed to cross streets, and it was only about three pounds lighter.  I couldn’t keep up with Earl on a bike, but he was willing to ride out and back a lot, keeping me within watchful view.  Come to think of it, I couldn’t stay up with Earl on a bike when I was on a bike.  It was just fun going through the neighborhoods, cruising downtown Kihei, feeling the sun and ocean breeze and not worry about falling.  One thing I’ve learned with a walker--people give you a wide berth out of consideration.  With a scooter, they give you a really wide berth out of consideration and self-preservation.

In March, I rented a 4-wheeled scooter in Tucson for our annual girls' trip and enjoyed the ability to join my friends most anywhere as opposed to not going or being parked.  I can accompany casual and aggressive walkers, but not runners.  Top speed on a scooter is about 4.5 MPH. My friend Pam took me on a tour of the University of Arizona campus.  We went to a museum photographic exhibit and had my first “scooter adventure”.  No, it wasn’t in the museum.  Before leaving, I thought it was prudent to use the bathroom.  By that time, I was completely confident in my tight quarter manuevering.  so much so that I wanted to try washing my hands at the sink instead of using hand sanitizer.  So I scooted up to the sink a bit too fast.  I think Pam used the word “rammed”.  Yep, I wedged the scooter tiller under the sink. “Pam, I’m stuck!’ “What do you mean you’re stuck?” “I mean I can’t move.  If I stand up, can you pull?”  I did, she did, but the scooter wouldn’t budge.  I was gra

To celebrate our 40th Wedding Anniversary, Earl bought me this instead of a diamond ring.  Four wheels, a rearview mirror, a bigger basket, and a bigger battery. As my Spinocerebellar Ataxia (SCA)progressed, I had to bite the humiliation bullet, not care what people thought (they may stare briefly, but they really don’t think about a person with disabilities for long) , or shut up and stay parked somewhere. After several rental trials, here she is.  By the way, Skeeter is the name of one of my favorite characters in a book called “The Help”.  Freedom! The motorized scooter doesn't replace my Winnie rollator as it affords no exercise, challenge, or incentive to maintain muscle strength--that has to come from elsewhere and there are many occasions where some leg and upper body strength are required.  What it does do is vastly increase the range I can go and what I can participate in without mortal fear of falling.