The Only Journey is the One Within

"The only journey is the one within.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke

And so a new day begins, a short journey from home to work save for the meandering divergence from the precise, economical, predictable route.  Birds chuckle and the faint scent of grass lingers in the air; a few wandering steps following the camera's eye.  Meetings today, one, two, three I think.  And then the thought is gone, wiped away by the sharp, crackling of boot on gravel.

And the journey continues, short, small, significant in mind and memory.

The world when observed with a Vespa...

Who Rides to Work?

Can't believe there are no motorcycles at work today.  With the temperature near 50F I thought I would have trouble finding a parking space today.  Once the days get warm only the early bird riders will find spaces here.  Had to go look at my calendar to make sure there wasn't some big riding event somewhere that I missed.

Who's riding to work?  Has the normal riding season started yet?  Is it still too cold to ride? 

Riding Out of Winter

With morning temperatures consistently near 40F and above the ride to work is effortless. The chore of putting on a lot of gear to insulate from the cold is in the rear view mirror. And the extra time allows me to take more leisurely and relaxing routes to work. The above picture was made on a lane crossing one of Penn State's farms on Friday morning. Often the gates are closed when cattle or horses are put out to pasture.

Tremendous clouds and piercing light this morning demanded a slight detour to make a picture of Meyer's farm outside of State College. When the weather is frigid I am far less likely to stop, especially in locations I have photographed before.

While this scene is pretty what you don't see it the fresh manure I walked through to get the picture.

Worn brick and written admonishments contrast the usual bucolic landscapes I seem to be drawn to. Passed this scene on my way to meet a friend at Saint's Cafe. Last time I photographed this place I was on a Triumph Bonneville. The Vespa looks fine here too.

Alleys are magical places. Whenever I have the chance to explore in towns and cities alleys are my first plan of attack. While Calder Alley in State College, Pennsylvania is pretty tame as alleys go, it still offers some interested colors and textures.

Notice how I am slowly digressing away from any direct riding references? The Vespa is the perfect foil in this area.

My friend Paul Ruby usually parks his motorcycle here. He thinks it belongs to him but I still belong to the school of who ever gets their first owns the space. Seem the American thing to do.

Another morning in Saint's Cafe. Sitting at the table getting ready to write a few notes in my journal I could not help but notice the odd juxtaposition of characters. The beam of light on a red head of hair was just gravy in my book.

Paul Ruby.

I stole his space for nothing because he arrived in his 1962 Mercedes Sedan. Paul is a collector of machines and you never know what he might show up with. An old Vespa, Ferrari, Harley, or bicycle. A few weeks ago he stopped by my office at lunch time so I could take some pictures of his latest acquisition.

Now he has a Ducati 1198. This is a class of motorcycles outside my experience or desire. I've sat on them but my body cries out, "Please, no, don't make me ride on this."

So far I've ceded to my body's wishes.

The weatherman says it will be almost 70 degrees tomorrow. I'm convinced winter has passed and my whole life as relaxed. As much as I enjoy riding year round I admit that this winter was tough. I'll have to reflect awhile to discern the reasons. Something to think about on these nice, warm day rides...

Taking the Road Less Traveled

I made this picture on the way home from work last night. A short detour from the predictable route. Small adventures where I find them. Riding to work (and home) is what I make of it.

A still unmowed pasture offered itself up for a new shortcut that I just couldn't resist. On a motorcycle like the BMW F650 GS taking this road would be uneventful. On the small-wheeled Vespa the unseen hazards lurking below the canopy of grass, clover, groundhog holes and dandelions add an element of potential surprise. It makes me ride with a different quality of attention.

The sky lured me in as well. I saw clouds growing dark from the highway and began searching for a place open enough to photograph them well. Thoughts of my Vespa bucket list photos moved through my head as I considered, "Vespa with funnel cloud". Not on this ride though.

It was a good day at work with much accomplished. Riding from the parking lot towards home I sensed the need for an attitude adjustment which often results from diverging from the predictable path. And I think I achieved what poet Robert Frost said so well in the last stanza of The Road Not Taken.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

With a sigh I am off to a new day of work. Sadly not on two wheels.

More Solitude in the Sticks

Alexander Pope, 1688-1744.
ODE ON SOLITUDE
Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
Blest, who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,
Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
Together mixt; sweet recreation;
And innocence, which most does please
With meditation.
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
Thus unlamented let me die,
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.

Solitude has much been on my mind of late and I suppose has been reflected to some degree in the photographs I make. I believe there is a measure of psychology available through the pictures one makes. I came across the poem by Alexander Pope and was struck by the simplicity I seek through solitude and by extension through riding.

An early breakfast in Bellefonte at the Café on the Park, a favorite, offered a quiet place to eat and read the paper before going to work. While I have no herds or fields supplying me with milk and bread I imagine the café as just a few simple steps away. A lot of years have passed since Pope wrote his poem.

I sat at the counter, something I seldom do. Looking at the place I found it more like an old general store than a restaurant. It has it’s own unique charm and I’m glad I found it.

The ride yesterday morning was cold enough that I had to stop to put the liner in my First Gear Kilimanjaro IV riding jacket to be comfortable. At 64 degrees I’m a wuss. Looking at the Vespa parked between Interstate 99 passing overhead I’m reminded of how small and insignificant the scooter is on the road. I left with a renewed sense of rider responsibility.

I learned what benthic invertebrates are while photographing two scientists working in Spring Creek. This big gravel lot used to be the site of the McCoy Dam near Milesburg, Pennsylvania before it was torn out a few years ago to allow Spring Creek to return to it’s natural flow. The two women at the van were pulling on their waders to begin sampling in the creek which flows on the right. They’ve been studying how the ecosystems restore themselves after a big disturbance like the removal of a dam. As a value-added educational feature of Scooter in the Sticks I’ll let you research the meaning of benthic invertebrates. (grin)

Quiet by day,

On roads like this there is ample supply of quiet both for the ear and the eye. It surprises me at times how I continue to be drawn to these places.

At the end of the day at the southern end of the valley I found myself in another quiet place. Visually at least. While making this photograph a large truck full of liquid manure pulled in to begin spreading it’s nutrient goodness on an open field behind me. Something I’ve learned is you don’t want to cross paths with a working manure truck.

While the day was full of work it also provided more lessons in solitude. I know many riders abhor being alone on the road choosing travel to pig roasts and poker runs and the socialization that follows. Maybe I’ll learn to appreciate those events someday. For now I still find value in the sweet recreation of solitude on the road.

Ride to Work: I Did

A quick stop when I got to campus to record a piece of my ride to work. I expected to see more motorcycles and scooters on the ride to work but perhaps I was out too early or the 59 degree air kept some riders in bed a bit longer.  

Today is Ride to Work Day.  I'm reminded of a lot of the advantages of riding my Vespa to work over driving the truck.  Better parking space, cheaper parking space, less expense in owning and operating the scooter vs. the truck, and the commute is far more rewarding.

For a few more arguments on the benefits of riding check out the video below.

What about you?

Ride to Work Day 2009

Don't forget to get up early so you can get a good parking space. There will be a run on available motorcycle spaces because Monday June 15, 2009 is Ride to Work Day.

I ride as much as I can throughout the year for general transportation AND I find recreation and relaxation on two wheels. Tomorrow gives us all an opportunity to share a little part of this with non-riders and increase awareness and understanding on the road.

Let's show non-riders how many of us there are!

Postcard: Simple Observations on the Ride to Work

Stopping to look at a favorite place on a regular basis is one small pleasure of a routine ride to work. Observing the trees as the morning sun seeps over the horizon, or as a scene emerges from fog or mist, each unique reminders of being alive and awake in the world. It’s easy to rush by though and become absorbed by commuting and evaporating into music, talk, or simmering frustration. The price of stopping on the Vespa is small. A few minutes and the willingness to interrupt my forward motion. Sounds simple but it has taken me considerable practice to achieve.

I stopped on Thursday morning to watch the sunlight illuminate the pine plantation section of the Pennsylvania Military Museum. I’m still looking for the definitive picture of that stand of trees. I’ll keep stopping, probably even after I make that picture.