Photographers will strap gear to anything with wheels—carts, wagons, baby strollers that haven’t seen a baby since the Nixon administration. I’ve tried none of those options, simply because the largest format I shoot is 4×5. I’ve never needed a wagon the size of a small canoe, and years ago I made a vow: if it doesn’t fit in a 25L backpack, it doesn’t come along. These days, my limit is 20L, and believe it or not, you can fit a small photo empire in 20 liters. Keep reading—I’ll prove it.

Back in 2016, I broke a leg, and a few years later, the foot attached to that same leg decided to file its own complaints. That meant podiatry appointments, physical therapy, and stern warnings about “resting.” Which, for me, is about as natural as sitting through a six-hour shopping mall excursion. I’m allergic to malls, restaurants (my own cooking wins every time), and parties (after photographing hundreds of special events, I’ve filled my lifetime quota). Give me a quiet forest trail, a beach at sunrise or sunset, or a night under the stars in my camper van—that’s where my motor goes hummmm.

So when my podiatrist told me I had to stay off my foot, I needed a solution that allowed me to do what I love: photographing in the landscape. Enter the RAD folding e-bike: 68 pounds of helpful enthusiasm. I added a metal basket, then a platform, then another basket—before long, it looked like a pack mule from a spaghetti western. I used it for a few years until the day I realized that lifting a 68-pound bike onto the back of a camper van was not a skill I wanted to cultivate. I love the gym, but I don’t want to be the gym.

So last year I pivoted: time to look into scooters. There are a lot of them out there. My requirements were simple:

(1) light enough for me to lift without spraining my soul,
(2) able to carry a 20L pack plus a tripod, and
(3) cheap enough that if it disappointed me, I could walk away without tears. Under $500 was my ceiling.

And that’s how I ended up with the Gyroor C1S Electric Scooter, 800W, complete with front and rear baskets designed to carry your pet (see specs on site). Lucky for me, my Shimoda 20L backpack and tripod behave far better than any pet I’ve ever owned.

The scooter has surprised me in the best way: nothing brings me more joy than rolling up to a landscape with this little rig loaded like a miniature pack mule. It hums along quietly, carries my tripod without complaint, and never argues when I whisper, “Just a little farther—light’s almost perfect.”

It may not look intimidating, but trust me—this tiny beast hauls two full systems (one film, one digital) like a champ. It’s not as rugged as my old e-bike, which was practically built for off-road expeditions, but it does exactly what I need it to do. When (or if) the time comes, I may upgrade to the next model if the weight is similar, but for now, we’re getting along just fine.

As for speed? The fastest I ever go is around 15 mph—partly because I’m too busy admiring the landscape, and partly because… well, that’s about as fast as the scooter goes. Perfect for a photographer who prefers gliding to racing.

A few days ago, I was at my regular stomping grounds in the wildlife refuge. I hopped off the scooter to make a photograph and suddenly thought, I should show my readers how I actually cover this 35-plus-mile refuge with a foot that allows only about a half-mile of walking before sending up protest flares. So out came the phone.

No stuffed-in lenses, no Tetris-level packing—my gear rides comfortably because I want it to last as long as I do. For this outing, I brought both Hasselblad film and digital. I took quick photos of what you see loaded on the scooter at the top of the page: the Shimoda 20L backpack, and in the rear basket is the Mindshift holster, which held my 907x 50c with the XV lens adapter installed. The holster’s internal lid pocket keeps extra batteries where I can reach them.

When the Hasselblad gear comes out, that same 20L pack shapeshifts into the Cambo Wide 580 pack: a 4×5 camera, 58mm lens, Fotoman 6×12 viewfinder, Horseman 6×12 film magazine, Minolta light meter, Linhof pocket viewfinder, and a filter case. The Shimoda’s front pocket holds a clear plastic pouch with shutter releases, a hex tool, and cleaning supplies—nothing glamorous, but essential. When I switch to the Alpa STC kit, the contents reshuffle, but the pack stays elegant, organized, and very much under control. 

The point of this article is simple: a scooter can give you a wonderful sense of independence if you’re the sort of photographer who carries a lot of gear but has zero interest in dragging wagons, carts, or 75-pound e-bikes across creation. I stay on designated biking trails and roads, but this little scooter gets me everywhere I need to go—and I’d buy it again in a heartbeat. I’m not a fan of doing reviews, and I have no interest in selling other people’s products. My intention is simply to share how I work with what I have, and what has genuinely made my field life easier. At this stage in life, any piece of gear that carries me instead of me carrying it earns a permanent parking spot in the van.

If my foot weren’t an issue, I’d probably still be zipping around on an e-bike—but even that requires all sorts of photo-gear modifications, and the weight alone feels like a gym membership I never asked for.