Rest, Relaxation and the End of a Vacation

Unshaven, rested, relaxed.  That's what a week of vacation can do for a person.  My friend Gordon made the photograph, my wife Kim said I looked relaxed, and I know I'm rested and unshaven.  The past week has been an exercise in no plans, no schedule, no goals, no nothing.  I like to think I'm a creature of habit but it's more likely I'm a creature of circumstance.  With no schedule to adhere to I've stayed up 'til dawn, slept past noon, hung out in coffee shops and generally watched the world go by.

And did some Vespa riding.

On days I didn't sleep past noon I was out in the cold with the dog or on the Vespa.  A week of that was all it took to acclimate to the frigid weather.  Now everything from 20F and higher feels comfortable.  Or at least tolerable.

This image was made on Sunday morning at sunrise with Junior in tow.  A dog offers fine examples of how to embrace life at it's simplest level.

Junior pausing briefly for me to make a portrait.  Cold enough outside for his breath to freeze over the hair on his neck.  He just walked through the living room, looked at me, and went upstairs to bed. "He know's the day's over," said Kim.  "No more walks, treats or food.  Nothing left but to go to sleep."

I'm almost in the same place.

It's been a cold week with snow and ice and have helped thicken my riding blood.  This morning Mr. Pumpkin looked particularly annoyed by the 18F temperature reading as I got ready to ride into town to meet my photography compatriots at Saint's Cafe.  Neither the Vespa or I uttered a complaint.

Morning has more attraction for me than any other time of day -- visually and mentally.  I awake quickly with no need for coffee or tea.  Seeing the sun rise and the warm beams of light lick through the trees continues to cause the heart to beat faster.

Allen Street is still asleep at 8:30 on a Sunday morning.  Plenty of parking and no traffic to contend with is fine by me.

Saint's Cafe in State College, Pennsylvania.  The holiday decorations have already gone up.  The place seems personal, friendly and like home.

Simple pleasures during the vacation.  Hot chocolate and a few moments alone with my thoughts.

The earlybirds.  In thirty minutes the place will start to fill up and the hustle and bustle will become more pronounced.  Being away from that pace for just a week makes the change seem dramatic.

During the past week the Vespa and I have ridden the familiar tracks and explored some new ones.  The snow and ice have offered an opportunity to sharpen my skills and mind and the time away from work has allowed my batteries to recharge so I can jump head first into some big projects.

And the rides have given me a chance to catch up with old friends if only for a few moments. But mostly I just laid about in decadent sloth.  So much for plans to organize my digital photos or straightening up the garage.  It was far more satisfying to nap, eat, ride play with the dog, hang out with Kim and anything other than be a responsible adult.

Damn, I guess I need to go upstairs and shave now.

Why I Don't Ride In Winter

At the sound of the alarm my body doesn't rally into the day like it once did. The cold air before the furnace comes to life makes seems unbearable. It's 57 degrees in the bedroom but 25 outside. If I have trouble facing the house is it any wonder that riding in winter makes no sense?

I do ride through the winter but the transition from sleep to awake, from indoors to outdoors, from not riding to riding is a terribly high hurdle. Homeostasis works overtime on me. It is a reason I don't ride more in winter.

The Vespa idled in the driveway before work. Clear skies, cold air, and a bit of time before needing to be at work.

Once I get moving I'm fine. Happy. Ecstatic even. But heaven help me through the transition. The roads were clear save for gravel and salt residue. Turning off the road onto a snow covered farm lane for a short detour was short lived. The Pirelli tires are absolutely useless in snow. After riding (pushing) the Vespa a short ways it occurred to me that my energy would be better used elsewhere.

At the end of the day I feel the same transition challenge to get myself out the door. Once on the Vespa things improve and I decide to ride home another direction.

Riding along on more heavily trafficked roads is a mixed blessing. More cars to deal with but I get a sick sense of thrill knowing I am not sitting behind the wheel.

Anyways, there are other more obvious reasons I don't ride in winter --- snow, ice, extreme temperatures. But the real riding killer is homeostasis. I get comfortable and have a hard time transitioning. Riding, diet, exercise, you name it. It's a constant negotiation to get up and go, to take action. Action isn't my middle name...