Dawn just before ride to work
Birch trees in front yard at dusk
View into backyard at the end of the day
My friend Paul relaxing at local tavern
Turn out areas for horses
Rock in garden
It rained on and off all day. From my office window I could see the sky change shades of gray. I find this kind of weather and light transforms what I see and how I feel. And it felt great to be riding without concern for snow or ice. As I rode home from work an old memory of a Black Sabbath album cover came to mind. I remember how fascinated I was with that picture.
I embrace the dim eeriness of the foggy dusk both as a rider and photographer. If I didn't have things to do I would have stayed out longer. Instead another commute home from work.
Early last Sunday morning at local cafe
Kim in parking lot
Farm along long route to work
One day last week at 4 AM I was awakened by the sound of a train thundering by the house. I thought it strange being the nearest active railroad is over a mountain nearly twelve miles away. I eventually awakened sufficiently to realize the sound I heard was the snowplow going by. I closed my eyes and said to myself that I wouldn't be riding this morning.
Anyways, things just have been popping into my head lately and thought I better release them. Now they're your problem. Rode to work yesterday. Routine and ordinary. Cold, clear, and 21 degrees F on the way to work. It was 33 degrees on the way home. I stopped at a park to watch the sun go down and appreciate that it was 5:30 PM and there was still some light. Spring can't be far off now.
For the past couple months I've been tackling a goal I set for myself to shoot two rolls of film every week. And then process, contact, and make three gelatin silver prints. Work prints. Every week, rain or shine, no excuses. And so far I have been pretty successful. And to add another motivational stick I am going to begin posting those prints here every Sunday night/Monday morning.
My dog Essa exploring the garden during her morning walk.
Kim stretching
My Vespa in an underground loading dock
Darkness and the thermometer indicated 6 degrees when I got out of bed. It requires great effort to leave the house; on foot, by car, or on the Vespa. Once the sun comes out it's another matter entirely.
I stopped on the way home to photograph glowing orange corn stubble in the snow. I see a lot of things while I ride that I would like to make a picture of but I do want to go home. 
Turning around and walking back towards the scooter I couldn't resist making one last picture as the sun neared the horizon. It still gets dark too soon and I look forward to longer and warmer days. Until then I'll have to keep preparing as if I were going out on a moonwalk I suppose. Not very stylish but very effective.
In warm weather riding the Vespa to work is automatic. The only time I don't is when I need to haul gear or people. In winter I make a quick assessment of road surface and mental state before making a decision. This past Thursday morning everything was aligned for scooter departure.
The ride to work was routine. The weather forecast called for snow showers late in the day but I assumed I would be home before they arrived. At 2:30 PM I saw the first snowflakes falling outside my office window. When I walked to the Vespa at 4:30 PM I found it covered in snow. The roads were still mostly wet with a bit of intermittent greasy slush.
Plans to travel across farm lanes when I realized that snow was accumulating too quickly to comfortably handle the steep grades in a few places. I wandered home on back roads and kept a careful eye on speed and road surface. 
The local limestone quarry always looks good in the snow and I couldn't resist stopping for a picture. The wet snow is surprisingly slick and I had to work a bit to get the scooter back onto the road even with all the gravel under the tires. 
Various amounts of snow accumulated as can be seen in the curve in the above photograph. Easily negotiated but a potential disaster for a careless rider traveling too fast for conditions and assuming the road is merely wet.
I arrived home safely, brushed the snow and slush from the Vespa before parking it in the garage, and joined Kim for a cup of hot tea. Watching the snow out the front window warm and snug after just another ride home from work.
It's time to make your nominations for this year's awards sponsored by Motorcycle Bloggers International, a group that I am a member. If you have strong feelings about something related to machines or activities you may want to visit the site and add your nomination. It's pretty simple. The link below will take you right to the site.
My version of GPS is written on a plain index card. The night before I left on a ride last Monday I poured over the Pennsylvania Atlas looking at places I haven't explored and made cryptic notes on the card so I would have a general idea of where to go. Paul was riding with me on his Kawasaki Concours and the plan was to ride south to Huntington to a diner for breakfast. Unfortunately my index card didn't inform me it had been bulldozed to make way for a Rite-Aid. But who needs help finding a place to eat breakfast anyway?
The ride to the diner was through familiar territory though we did take a few new roads that weren't on the route scribbled on my card, one that had a nice view of the Little Juniata River winding through the countryside. 
Even when I have no idea where I am I always know that I will emerge onto a road that is. Being lost in the East if more a figment of imagination than anything based in reality. At least in the manner that I describe lost. And there are always new things to see. Stopping for a picture gives Paul a chance to do a bit of back maintenance.
After breakfast we head south to pickup a road that will take us across the Juniata River. As we crossed the railroad tracks the signal begins to flash and I do a quick U-turn with the Vespa to take a picture of the train. I can see at least a half-mile in either direction and no train is in sight. After waiting five minutes the signal stops and the gates go up. So much for the train. As soon as I fire up the scooter the signal goes off again. Same thing, no train.
I forgot to point out that the temperature by 11AM was approaching 70 degrees. This in on January 7th. Winter in Pennsylvania. I felt like a tourist stopping to take pictures at all the scenic overlooks. 
A GPS system only works if you pay attention to it. The same applies to the index card. And it doesn't help much to pull it out of your pocket when you are 25 miles past a turnoff. I had a general idea of the direction we needed to go and with the sky clear and the sun out I knew where the compass points were to we rode on making a larger than planned loop through some of the southern coal regions of Pennsylvania and over more mountains until we got back on course. I was able to ride my scooter right off the road through the grass back to this overlook. The larger and less maneuverable Concours had to wait on the pavement.
At the top of one mountain was a cell tower and our first coverage in quite awhile. I stopped to call home and let Kim know where we were and when to expect us home and Paul paused to do a little ebay business on his iPhone. He is trying to convince me that I could do Scooter in the Sticks with one. I think I might have to wait until Photoshop is available for the iPhone.
I was able to look back across the valley towards the southern end of Raystown Lake, one of the two big federal flood control projects that resulted in major bodies of water. This one has no horsepower limits so in the summer it is a nightmare of noise and speed. A friend and I canoed its length once and trying to cross from one side to the other was frightening. But that's another story.
"Nothing like a little wind to get the blood pumping and bring on the warm glow of "I'm alive!"."
Almost as quickly as that happened the sky broke open again and the sun came out and the wind diminished a bit. In the sunshine it always seems less aggressive. I stopped to watch the clouds pass for a bit and then saw another ominous set of dark clouds approaching so I made a bee line to my office where I could watch the weather in comfort.
That's what 18º F looks like to me on a cold ride to work. My wife Kim enhanced the image to help better reflect how cold I felt.
Before going into the nuts and bolts I should comment on the most important issue – warmth – and a few lessons I have learned. I read a post on the Modern Vespa site where it was suggested that a thermostatic control was necessary lest you burn your hands. I like to rest my hands on our hot water radiators or park them in front of the heating vents in the car, nice and hot, so I was quite excited at the prospect of burning heat at my fingertips.
To make some changes. Changes to Scooter in the Sticks. Changes in other areas of my life. This is the time of year where many people, myself included, take stock of things and resolve to make life different -- better.
On the way to the grocery store for supplies to supplement the sauerkraut cooking in the crock pot I stopped in town to take a look at the ice sculptures that are part of the First Night festivities.
Ice carvers were putting finishing touches on a variety of art ice from George Washington to a royal throne. Cold weather helps keep things looking good unlike previous years where rain and 60 degree temperatures made the ice work quite ephemeral.
Even though I have been visiting Tim Hodgens' blog I Will Rush No More 
I finally came out of a sugar coma and was able to maneuver the Vespa onto the road. Getting older hasn't sharpened by dietary sensibilities or my body's ability to process the quantity or quality of refined sugar products I choose to ingest. It was a positive step to ride away from temptation yesterday morning under cloudy skies and temperatures around 40º F.
Aside from a brisk wind the weather was good and the roads were dry after a couple days of rain. Blue skies look amazing after nothing but gray. Everything looks bigger and more impressive. Since winter has only just begun officially I know there is a lot more gloom ahead.
I'm still amazed at how many new roads I find so close to home. This one cut across a ridge in an area I thought I knew well. A look when I got home at a topographic map revealed a wealth of unexplored township roads.
One small road began as a gravel track along a creek and then climbed upwards to this sweeping view. It was good to get out and stretch my riding legs a bit. Next time out will be easier.
I want to wish each of you a Merry Christmas and thank you for your support and kind words towards Scooter in the Sticks. I'll be spending time with family and friends and perhaps even take the Vespa out for a ride. I have much to be grateful for.
