Holy Shit It's Cold

19F this morning for my ride into State College, Pennsylvania to meet my friends Paul and Gordon at Saint's Cafe to talk about photography, life and whatever else emerges.  Sunshine helps mitigate the cold -- probably more a state of mind than any actual change in temperature.

I wasn't excited to ride this morning when I crawled out of bed but kept moving in that direction until I finally plugged in my Gerbing electric gloves, flicked the power switch, and headed down the road. Electric gloves are nice!

Electric gloves are nice until they quit working.  About four miles into my ride I noticed the warm, toasty feeling depart and a cold, numb feeling creep into my fingertips.  Looking at the power switch I saw the light was out -- no more juice.  I already knew the problem -- corrosion on the connector.  I'd been tinkering with it for awhile rather than just swap it out with a new one and led me to this conclusion: "Holy shit it's cold".

When the temperature drops below 30F I need those electric gloves if I don't want to engage in periodic huddles around the headlight or muffler.  Paul gave me a new lead and connector and tomorrow I'll install and be back in business.

Hot tea and a bagel did much to soothe aching cold hands but my riding spirit was already in good shape.  There's just something about riding in the cold that yields unexpected dividends for me...

Roll 522

Like clockwork I parked my Vespa last Sunday morning across from the library and walked over to Saint's Cafe to show Gordon my three prints of this week.  The trip to the ER didn't dissuade me from the darkroom though more than a few inquiries about stress have me wondering if the self-induced pressure of shooting, processing and printing isn't just another straw on my back.

The prints fit nicely into the Givi topcase.  Glad I got it.

Another Saint's regular, violinist Carl Ector, sits outside Saint's with his coffee enjoying the fine spring morning.  Looks like I might be photographing his musical group at some point in the future.  I'm with the band!

Gordon examines me for signs of imminent collapse.  Feeling well enough to ride the Vespa into town and brave the rising heat I assured him I was ok.  For now.  And added that I had prints and an ER visit.  Where were his?

I've been suggesting for awhile now that Gordon get a motorcycle or scooter and have quietly shared how amazing it is to ride.  Last week sent me an email saying he found the registration papers for a Harley Davidson that he didn't know his father owned before he was born.  Over the past few months he's talked about riding and I almost thought I had him until he shared this comment from his daughter:

"You already look like a biker dad.  You don't need a motorcycle."

Oh well, looks like photography will continue.

Here's the take from last week.  Rushed as usual.  Process late Saturday afternoon, print Saturday evening, wonder why the prints are damp on Sunday morning.

Shot one roll of Ilford HP5+ and processed it in TMAX developer. [YOU ALL KNOW YOU CAN CLICK ON THESE IMAGES TO SEE THE BIG VERSIONS RIGHT?]

 

Junior during a Saturday morning walk through Boalsburg.  He's getting to the point when he sees me raise the camera he sits down.  It's a problem sometimes when I want him standing.  We're working on it.

Shot this same thing with the iPhone earlier in the week. I think I like the black and white image better.  Wish I wasn't so rushed to print so I could get a little more from the negative.  Rushing.  I have to look at the stress component some more.

 Shooting with the iPhone is so easy and engaging in a way that's hard to describe.  I've been shooting a lot with it but have failed to post much here.  This quasi-riding/dog picture was made last week with the iPhone using the Camera+ app.

Haven't ridden the Vespa since Sunday evening.  Have an appointment with the doctor in the morning and am uncertain if I should show up riding or in the truck.  Don't want to tempt him to say, "Don't ride for awhile."

I suppose I'm open to whatever is going to happen...

The Big Empty

Living in a college town means that several times a year one gets to experience the Big Empty. The ghost time feeling left in the wake of the departure of 40,000 souls. Sunday evening I had to run a few errands and took advantage of almost dry roads and mid 30s temperatures. Seeing steam escaping from a building vent was enough to have me pose the Vespa for a portrait with the lone person walking down Calder Alley. I've made many pictures in this alley over the years and I continue to be drawn to it.

Darkness descended when it was time to ride home and the temperature had dropped below freezing. Night always presents additional challenges for a rider and in freezing weather allowances always have to be made for stray water turned to ice. Old Main, the main administration building at Penn State, glowed in the distance as I got ready to go. One last loop through town before heading home.

The center of business life in State College is the stretch of Allen Street between College and Beaver Avenues. There are always cars here in the evening because of the bars and restaurants in this part of town.

Junior, now dubbed the Hammer of Sweetness by our youngest daughter Aleta, joined me in town the next morning for a walk and a bit of dog socialization. Belgian Sheepdogs are wary, alert and do not warm to strangers quickly. Junior and I have been working diligently to familiarize him with strangers and situations in town. He has made a dramatic shift from warning me of every individual on the planet to now he walks casually among people on the street without concern. He takes his cue from me and senses when things are ok. His breed does not warm to people quickly but with my ok he now allows people to greet him without shying away. And once he accepts the gesture he then wants to sit in their lap. He's a good dog.

After returning Junior home for breakfast I had to get back to town and meet my friend Paul at Saints Cafe. Another local place to which I am drawn over and over again. Paul wanted to go for a ride but snow was falling outside and I felt it better to wait for better weather. As I looked out the window at the street I realized I had ridden in far worse and I could have ridden into town if I desired. I didn't. Call me mature.

In an attempt to bring some riding energy to the table Paul showed me the brake drum he ordered for his 1964 Vespa GL. It had arrived from Italy and he was excited about the box. I was reminded (again) how little I care for all things mechanical. It's approaching a pathology.

Paul is a photographer and brought along a box of prints for me to look at. I am always impressed with the work he does. His attention has wandered in different directions in the past few years and he is not (pardon the pun) focused on photography like he once was. Still, his work is strong. He has a series of portraits made over many years of his daughter Allison. He used to shoot them with an 8x10 view camera but now more and more is done with a 35mm or digital camera. I would invoke the term progress but he still has that damn 1964 Vespa...