Fear in the Cage

I rode away from my house this morning for no particular reason with no particular destination in mind. It was sunny and the 20 degree Fahrenheit temperature was bracing. The Vespa moved easily up the hill and before long I was riding along Brush Valley Road. Something felt different, I was riding more fluidly and the scooter, the road and I seemed perfectly in tune. It’s a lovely feeling.

I stopped to make this photograph and just take in the world. It was nice to just be out in it. No cars or trucks, just me. As I rode towards town I started seeing other vehicles and began to notice how many people were talking on cell phones. I had read Dan Bateman’s post on Musings of an Intrepid Commuter about this subject and it got me thinking. Before I go on I need to confess that I talk on the phone while driving. And I’ll also admit that I believe that I can handle it. After all, I’m different than everyone else, I’m a better driver, I’m careful, blah, blah, blah. I know this is a rationalization to feel better about talking on the phone knowing how dangerous it is.

I thought about this while riding into town. I stopped at a traffic light and watched five cars pass in front of me. Four were on the phone. I saw more pass while I parked the scooter at the library. I saw people walking down the sidewalk talking on the phone and one person answered a particularly loud and annoying cellphone in the library. I’ve been chewing on this all day. What is going on with cellphones? How did we ever live without them?

I carry a phone with me while I ride but never think of using it while riding. When I “need” to use it I pull over. Works fine. But for some reason the idea of pulling over while driving is especially repugnant. There is a genetically coded imperative that whispers in my head to never let anything interfere with the forward motion of the cage.

Examining the “need” to use a cell phone reveals much of the root of this issue. Their isn’t much need. When I think of the times I talk on the phone while driving it is either because someone has called me, or I’m in too big a hurry to stop to call, or I’m bored. Let’s say the first two are important---the EMT is calling to find out a family member’s blood type and the second is because I’m rushing to pick someone up and I’m late and I want them to know I am on the way. Justifiable uses but not real frequent. If that was all cell phones were ever being used for there really wouldn’t be much of an issue. But that last one – boredom – that’s where the cell phone really shines.

I think boredom masks fear. Fear of being alone. People can’t stand to hear the voice in their head and they’ll go to great lengths to avoid it. The cell phone is just one of the many devices that can be deployed to make sure we don’t have to face ourselves. While riding I am never bored. Another benefit of two-wheeled adventure, even if merely commuting.

I’ve made a decision to not use the cell phone while driving. I want to afford others the same courtesy I expect from them when I am riding.

Chucklehead

The Vespa is running fine and there is nothing of note to say about it. I have ridden it to work a couple times this past week and the only area of concern occurred on St. Patrick’s Day. Upon riding into town I saw a long line of college students at 7AM lined up to get into “The Phryst”, a local watering hole that deals in green beer. The line was long, almost a block long. I immediately muttered an “oh shit” at the thought of leaving the Vespa parked along the street on this day that guaranteed a larger than usual number of drunks. I imagined the Vespa lying on its side covered in green puke.

I figured that if we could stand up to some snow and ice we could manage a few hundred green beer drinkers. The Vespa waited patiently all day and was in fine condition for the ride home.

Now on to “Chucklehead”.

In a previous life (30 years ago) I was a serious table tennis player. That’s ping-pong for those of you not fully informed on the nature of the 40mm ball…. A few weeks ago my college roommate from the early 1970's, Joe Tarantino, called and asked if I wanted to play in the Pennsylvania Team Championships. I told him the last time I played was in 1976 at the National Team Championships at Cobo Hall in Detroit. “It’s just for fun” was all I needed to agree. The Vespa has been wondering where I’ve been the past two days---I was cheating on it, playing table tennis, an obsession from my past.

Obsession is not an overstatement. I nearly flunked out of college because the 30 hours a week of practice sort of gets in the way of any academic activity. Add travel to tournaments and the general exhaustion that goes along with playing so much --- you get the picture.

Sam Steiner, the tournament director and old friend, estimated my player rating at 1600. At my best my rating was 1810. This puts me in the intermediate level of play, a mere humble shadow of the professional players. Think of it as the difference between Lance Armstrong and a really good local rider. As it turns out Sam was overly generous in his assessment. I was thinking I would fall nearer 1200 and the two days of play was witness to that. I did manage to win a few games and even one match. And more importantly I didn’t hurt myself. I’m writing now in the glow of two Extra Strength Tylenols. Remember, I’m talking table tennis, not ping-pong. You can get carbon fiber rackets now.

Now, I promise, on to Chucklehead.

Thirty-four teams were gathered with play underway on 20 Stiga Expert tables. I was playing the first match (and only match) I would win during the entire tournament this morning when a loud cry echoed through the gymnasium – “You Chucklehead!!!”. John Rameriz of the South Park Table Tennis Club of Pittsburgh deserves credit for the comment. It was a cry of some performance frustration and immediately transported me back in time to other tournaments and other yells. I remembered in an instant all the good times I had so long ago. And that brings me to the point of this blog entry. Finding a balance in life.

The desire to ride parallels the desire I felt to play. And a little spark is glowing again. Hmmm, how could I manage riding and playing? Maybe I can ride to tournaments, off to New York and Maryland and Indiana and Minnesota by Vespa. And I know if I start playing again I’ll want to play well which means practice. And my brain is off to the races, chewing on the problem. Riding, work, family, chores, photography, garden, school – can I add table tennis to that mix? How much am I entitled to?

For now I’m just going to let it go, let God show me the path. I have the coming week off from work and I plan to do a little riding, a little napping, and little hanging out with Kim. And I’m sure I won’t be able to avoid the desire to think about table tennis.

I’m such a chucklehead.

Owners and Riders

A friend brought me this brochure from a Rome scooter and motorcycle rental place. The image on the cover made me think about how people have reacted to my scooter and the ideas they have about people who ride them. Reactions range from those people who think it is a neat little toy to scoot around town to near revulsion by others (men) who appear to be deeply threatened by the very existence of such a machine. Perhaps they believe a scooter fundamentally defiles the idea of machine as an example of man’s dominance over the world.

The other thought that comes to mind is there is a difference between riders and owners. I draw a parallel in my experience with photography. There are many people who own and talk about cameras but seldom, if ever, make photographs. They find immense satisfaction in deep consideration of every tool and toy related to cameras and photography. And often they have a deep, deep belief in a particular camera and no other will do or compare. This same pattern exists with many scooter and motorcycle owners---Vespa, Lambretta, Harley, BMW, etc…..

And then there are riders. There are people who own cameras so that they can take pictures. They may spend lots of money and buy fine equipment but they have it as a means to an end. They use it. The camera is not only a sunny day instrument. It can get wet and marred and scratched by use. The lens won’t quit performing due to specks and spots or cleaning marks. The same thing happens with riders. The ride is the goal and the machine is the vehicle to experience it. Use brings wear and tarnishes the possibility of maintaining a pristine state. Miles add up. A scooter or bike shows its age.

I’m not saying that one path is better than the other, they’re just different. But I am always a bit surprised at the dismissive attitudes people can generate against something they don’t (can’t, won’t) believe or accept. I smile or don’t say anything anymore when someone tells me what I need or should have in a camera, scooter, home, job, clothes, investment, food, whatever…. I know what I like. All this from little brochure from Italy. And this is the kind of stuff I write when I'm not riding. Haven't been on the scooter since Saturday. Will ride tomorrow morning.

The Sixty Mile Breakfast

The weather warmed considerably and with clear skies and 45 degree temperatures I decided to take a longer than usual trip on the Vespa. I almost always head north or west on my rides but for some reason this time I was drawn south. Today was the first time I had my new Tourmaster Over Pants on. It was nice to finally have some windproof-armored pants with pockets! And I’ll say right now that I love these pants.

I headed out PA Route 45 towards Pine Grove Mills and headed up the mountain. The scooter could maintain 45 MPH up the grade but I had to wave on a few cares that wanted to go faster even though I was at the speed limit. Traffic was almost non-existent as I rode down the other side towards the turnoff at Stone Valley and route 305. This road was a typical rural secondary road, high crown and rough asphalt surface. No holes or anything but just rough. I moved along the road at 45PMH and that seemed fast---so many blind turns and crests that I figured at this speed I would have time to see my life flash in front of me should some feed truck be in the wrong lane. I rode pretty defensively. I saw another cyclist in my rear view mirror moving pretty fast and he went right by me with a wave. A BMW 1200 GS. As I came over the next rise I could see him going over the next and realized he was really going fast. My first thought was that I am a pretty lame rider to not be going faster. The scooter could easily go faster but then I thought what faith that guy has that nothing or no one is going to get in his way. At that speed it didn’t seem like you could do anything. It is what scares me about any thoughts I have of bigger stronger two-wheeled vehicles. I will go faster because I can and not because I should. Those of you motorcycle riders feel free to weigh in if I am just being a wussy here.

The road allowed me to leisurely ride to Petersburg and then on to Alexandria. The sun was warm and I was completely comfortable save my fingertips. The temperature was in the 50s by now but after about 50 minutes of riding I could tell they were tingling a bit. Not enough to be concerned about but present. I decided to take bacon and eggs at the Crumb Diner in Huntingdon. It’s one of those classic old metal diners where you can have breakfast for 3 bucks. My fingertips were white and it took a good 15 minutes for them to come back to life. I am sure it is related to the old frostbite injuries.

After breakfast I stopped across the street at a Sheetz store to get gas. Several other riders were there with Harleys and Sport bikes and they gave the Vespa the smiling sneers that I often get. One of them inquired on the fuel economy and the other asked if it was legal to ride that little thing on the road. I smiled and said 68 miles-per-gallon and reassured the other that both it and I were fully licensed. They were sort of shocked when I told them I had ridden down from Boalsburg on a sixty-mile path. They were just riding around town. I let them know you could ride it anywhere as long as you weren’t in a hurry.

The ride home was as enjoyable as the ride down and the scooter performed perfectly. The photo was made on the way home just outside of McLevy’s Fort. There is an old family cemetery at the top of the hill where the trees are.

Walk Then Ride

Its been a hectic week at work. Projects are underway and require my input or attention and a new really large and complicated one has just launched that could easily eat up half of my time. The balancing act can be draining and leaves me feeling anxious, unsettled and tired by the end of the day.

I park my Vespa in the free motorcycle parking area about a mile from my office. I could park closer but the walk to the office and back to the scooter has enough therapeutic value that I continue with this arrangement. It’s a good 15-minute walk across campus before the scooter roars (purrs) to life. Today the campus was deserted during my walk giving an added and welcome level of solitude. The walk makes the ride home stronger. Instead of departing a zombie for the first few miles the physical activity resets my brain and when I turn the throttle I am focused and ready.

As I was pulling on my helmet and gloves I noticed the reflections of passing cars in the finish of the scooter. I am still enamored by the Vespa and it consistently finds its way into photographs for no other reason than I like the way the damn thing looks. I imagine it in adventures and rides and just smile. For some reason today I sat down on the sidewalk with the digital camera and made some images. Something seems odd about a 51+-year-old man sitting on the sidewalk in a yellow and black riding jacket taking pictures of a Vespa. That’s what I come to at this stage of my life. I guess it’s ok.

I liked the way the scooter is juxtaposed against the FedEx truck. Reminds me that I can stand up on the road with these big boxes. The ride home was relaxed and the world was magical in a way I only recognize from the car when the light is unusual or dramatic. I made the image at the top of the page on Monday evening while riding. It was grey and the sun was going down through a cloudy sky. A small glow of sunlight filtered through the clouds for an instant and I stopped to make a photo. I am sure I would have missed it in a cage.

Forward Motion

If there is a reliable constant in my life it is a lack of forward motion. I'm capable of pursuing the perfect decision at the expense of any decision. It does not discriminate and applies to every aspect of my life. My daughter has gently prodded me in this blog and my wife has done so privately to move me towards buying more protective riding gear. As those of you who ride know the array of products is mind-boggling and opinion ranges from casual to evangelical. It is fertile territory for me to defer the decision to some other sunny day....

I did make the decision to buy a pair of inexpensive Tourmaster Overpants with hip and knee armor. They'll be fine. Better than jeans and at a price I can afford. And I bought some earplugs to protect my hearing while I ride. I've used them before while working with powertools but using them underneath a helmet is sort of claustrophobic and unsettling. I rode the scooter out into the countryside just to get a feel for things and have decided I like them. I can concentrate better and things seem clearer. Strange.

The ride was lovely as I rode along the empty roads outside of town. I stopped to watch the sun go down by two big white pines that some farmer didn't decide to cut down for some reason. Once the sun went beneath the horizon I rode home to continue the forward motion. As some of you know I am completing my MFA in Art this semester and have a lot of work to do. After I make this post I'll tend to my artist statement that needs some attention. I've been putting off printing the 20x24 prints for the landscape installation I am going to show. It's more fun to ride the scooter.

If anyone is reading, expect me for chocolate chip cookies when the touring pants arrive Friday.

Up the Mountain

Today was the day I tried the Vespa up Pine Grove Mountain. The temperature was 22 degrees F. when I left the house and the wind was blowing stongly at about 20 MPH. As I traveled across PA Route 45 I felt the stronger gusts buffet the scooter. There weren't many cars on the road so I had the world to myself. It's 4 or 5 miles from Pine Grove Mills to the overlook at the crest of Pine Grove Mountain. This road is one of the notorious snow closed routes in central Pennsylvania and the Department of Transportation does their best to keep in open by dumping tons and tons of gravel and salt. As I made my way up the mountain at times it seemed like a gravel road. I took it wasy through the curves and was able to maintain almost 45 MPH up the mountain.

The parking lot at the overlook was ice so I was careful riding across it onto the small gravel area at the edge. The wind was strong and my hands froze right away as I fumbled to get the camera into play. I'm going to have to work on some winter camera solution that doesn't keep finding my hands numb.

The ride back down the hill was uneventful. A stop for gas at the Shell station at the bottom was an opportunity to warm my hands. Not sure what they were doing inside but it was so humid that my visor and glasses fogged up to the point I could not see anything. I fumbled for wallet and glasses long enough to get warm.

On the way back towards town I stopped along a cornfield just to stare down the road. I just love the roads that are empty--just me and the world.


From there I made my way to Saints Cafe in State College for a cup of hot chocolate and a bagel. My dreams of bacon and eggs faded during the ride. Stopped at the library for a few minutes and then on to Kissell Motorsports to check out riding pants and have them take some oil out of the Vespa's crankcase. Seems it was overfilled a bit.

Couldn't find the pants I needed so I think I will patronize one of the sponsors of The Baron in Winter and buy a pair of Darien pants from Aerostich.

Home now basking in the glow that always comes after a cold ride.

First Drop

Well, I dropped the scooter this morning.

It was snowing when I went to bed last night and I had no plans to ride today because I had to wear a coat and tie to work---not good riding clothes. I got up this morning and looked out at the road and saw it completely covered with snow and ice. The temperature was 19 degrees F. No riding today, I get my fancy clothes all sloshed up. If I had one of those Aerostich suits I could ride but certainly not in my dress clothes.

I remembered my foul weather sailing gear. Big bib overhauls, big coat, waterproof, I could wear that. Sure, there’s a plan. I can ride to work in the worst conditions so far. Great.

So I suit up, have my armored coat under the foul weather gear, take the scooter out of the garage and start it up, walk down to the road to test the surface, all the important steps. The road in mostly snow covered with a mix of packed snow and ice underneath---doesn’t look too bad.

I move onto the road slowly and test the rear brake, stops pretty well without much sliding so I’m all set. I come over a rise about 20 miles per hour and let off the throttle because I know there is a stop sign at the bottom of the hill. I see the sign but also wavy tire tracks from the cars that could not stop and one set going off the road. I put my feet down and gently apply the rear brake. All good---for a few seconds. I see it coming, the ice sheet with powdered snow ahead. I check the rear view mirror---nothing. When I hit the ice the rear wheel begins to slide left and the front wheel right. My foot is down on the ice as the scooter leans and I’m now a tripod sliding towards the stop sign. I hold everything in place until foot finally slips away and down I go. I turn or the scooter engine and get up and do what every good rider does first---look around to see if anyone has seen what a fool I am. Gratefully no one did and no other vehicles came along.

I pick up the scooter and give it a check and find no damage. Start it up and finish going down the hill, this time on the side of the road which is full of gravel and has traction. The rest of the trip is uneventful. The foul weather gear kept me dry and warm and the little fall to the pavement was well cushion with the armor in my shoulder area working just fine. The only injury occurring to my pride. I stopped another mile along to make a photograph of me in my new duds and to clear my visor. Seems the drop got my breathing quicker and was fogging things pretty fast.

So now I know what a 20mph drop feels like. Could I have avoided it? Probably. I could have been going slower, I could have run the stop sign to the bottom of the hill, or I can learn to hold the scooter better in those one-leg-down slides.

Riding at Dawn

I set the alarm clock early so I would have time to make a more leisurely ride into work this morning. As I rider I pay a lot more attention to the detail and nuance of weather forecasts that I would if I was driving or riding the bus. The details of weather matter. Before bed last night the forecast called for a possibility of snow accumulating less than an inch by 4AM. When I checked the forecast at 5:15 AM that forecast remained. Twenty minutes later the forecast called for clear and sunny. Go figure.

The temperature was a balmy 25 degrees F when I pulled out of the driveway. The sky was just beginning to show a warm glow from the soon to rise sun. There were few cars on the road but the ones that did pass seemed to stir up a cloud of salt dust, something I’m sure is good for my lungs. The ride was great and I love to see the sun rise albeit through my rear view mirrors this morning.

I don’t consider myself a daily commuter though lately I have been riding to work more regularly as I push myself to deal with the cold and snow. An ice storm is predicted this evening so I have already begun to wonder about riding in that weather.

Sunshine in a Cup

The temperature when I got up was 14 degrees F. Just at the point where I waffle about riding the bus or the scooter. It was still dark outside so that doesn't help, and oh yeah, there was snow on the road too. I postponed the decision until after a shower and breakfast. Twenty minutes later the temperature was down to 12 degrees.

I really wanted to ride the Vespa and nothing good is ever easy so I suited up and pushed the scooter into the snowy driveway. While it warmed up I walked out to the street to size up the road surface. Snow and ice. Dry. I figured I could handle it. The sun was coming out so how long would it last anyways?

When I got to the main road it was mostly clear with just a few wet spots here and there. I road straight into town but passed my normal parking spot and rode on to the one near Starbucks. I’ve ridden in colder weather but I was chilled to the bone by the time I parked. I walked directly into Starbucks for some hot chocolate to warm the insides and bring some direct heat to my numb hands. Went back outside after a few minutes and gathered up my stuff and headed off to work. Another fine morning ride in the cold but to be honest I can’t wait for warmer weather.

Scooter Destinations

I want to consider a comment made by Dan Batemen on his " Musings of an Intrepid Commuter" blog---that coffee shops are a natural habitat of motorcycles. For those reading who have never had direct experience with two-wheeled motorized vehicles there is no truth to the premise that they are sentinent metal creatures. They are machines and respond to the commands of the operator save any intervention of physics or mechanical failure.

So the idea of "natural habitat" must reflect the operator. And operators being endowed by their Creator with free will make the choice to stop where they would. The gap between stopping at Starbucks and the local tavern is wide. I often see numerous motorcycles parked in front of taverns and wonder how many are having a cheeseburger and coffee.

I stopped at a coffee shop today, one at the local Barnes and Noble. I was drawn mainly by cold, I couldn’t go any further without having my hands fall off. They are a nice place to have something hot to drink, write in my journal and have a snack. I can find a similar focus sitting alone in a café as I can while I’m riding.

What other destinations do motorcyles gravitate towards?

Black Dog

I've been so tired this past week that our dog, Essa McCloud, has had her physical activity limited to runs around the yard. I told Kim last night I would Essa for a walk in the morning. Scooter riding would have to wait.

Essa and I headed up towards the mountain and did a couple miles in the cold. Air was crisp and wind was blowing steadily. You have to pay just as much attention in the woods when the wind is up as you do riding. All those widowmakers just waiting to fall on your head! Essa enjoyed herself and so did I. My knees were talking to me as we started up the mountain but nothing too bad.

Just returned from a scooter ride but no pictures----left the memory card in the computer when I downloaded the dog pictures. I hate stopping the scooter for a great shot only to see "No Memory Card" appear on the screen.

Rode about 40 miles, lots of errands and winding routes to various stops of interest. The scooter kept wanting to head towards Starbucks but I reined it in. Couldn't stop if from going to Barnes and Noble though.

The Vespa is running really well, just purrs along smoothly with no lag or stutters in performance. My riding skills are probably getting better too. All in all just a great way to start the weekend.

Snow, Google and Other Concerns

I checked the weather report last night and it called for clear, cloudy and tempertures near 40 degrees. I went to bed not feeling well but warmed by the thought that I would ride the scooter into work in the morning. No need to set the alarm since I wouldn't have to catch the bus. I felt better when I got up so I had breakfast, got dressed and went out to the garage. When I opened the door it was snowing! The road was covered and more was coming down. Following expert advice I've gleaned from "The Baron in Winter" blog I walked out to the street and checked the surface qualities. Grease. Snow at 32 degrees. It was really slippery.

The bus had gone. My 2WD Ford Ranger is almost unusable in snow, especially this kind of stuff. I could wait a couple hours for another bus. Could call a cab. Or I could take this opportunity to experiment with riding in a new road condition. I thought about it for a few minutes and decided to ride the scooter.

I carefully made my way over the snow covered backroads as I drove to work. I avoided the main ones where the cagers would be flying along at 60 MPH. In addition to the slippery surfaces the air was damp and my visor was really fogging up in ways it never does when it is colder. I had to watch for cars coming behind me so I could yield to them since I was going only about 20 MPH most of the way. I made it safely without incident. Several times I experimented with braking and sliding to see what that would be like. And I had to be careful when I was stopping and putting my feet down because they wanted to slide out from under me. Everything considered I was comfortable that I could ride in snow in limited ways.

Google. I saw in one of the posts on the MADTV blog a comment about links generating Google juice. I knew that Google factors into is search scheme how many sites are linked to a specific site and that moves it up in the ranking. I had never tried to find my blog so I did a few tests. Searching for "Steve Williams" doesn't do anything helpful. I think there are a couple of us out there. Searching for "Steve Williams" and "scooter" brought me up as #1 out of 10,200. Pretty neat. And a few down was "The Baron in Winter".

Searching for "Vespa" doesn't find me and neither does any other combination of people searching for general Vespa or scooter riding information. But time will tell....

Finally, I have to wash the Vespa. When I parked it I saw a lot of salt spray on the thing. It is especially visible on the black parts. It is supposed to warm up today so maybe it will get a bath.

Planning a Trip

As I dream of warmer weather my thoughts tilt towards some kind of scooter trip. I recently purchased a rear rack so I can load more gear onto the scooter---a sleeping bag, tent, pad, backpacking stove, etc. Right now I have my sights set on something north of here, perhaps a trip to the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon in Tioga County. It’s about a hundred miles of rural backroads and beautiful scenery. I’ve investigated some campgrounds but mostly I just want to take a leisurely ride, see the landscape, be alone with my thoughts.

I hear a lot of talk about rallys and group rides but I just can conjure any interest in doing that myself. I like to ride alone. Or maybe with my friend Paul. But the big social events aren’t in my future.

Rode today to do a few errands and then took a swing out around town to see the open fields. This photograph was taken along one of the farm lanes I like to explore….

The Six Degree Ride

The thermometer read 6 degrees Fahrenheit when I got up. I wanted to see how I hold up under the lower temperatures---my previous low being 15 degrees. I dressed in my usual gear and pushed the scooter out of the garage for a few minutes warm-up. It turned over easily and in several minutes I was headed down the road. I immediately felt the icy air cutting through my jeans and long underwear at the tops of my thighs. Not bad, but definitely a new feel. I would through the back roads and streets towards town and after 20 minutes my hands were growing numb.

Parked the scooter in town and walked to Saint’s Café for hot chocolate and a bagel. My hands welcomed the warm steamy air. I relaxed for a while, read the paper, wrote in my journal and decided to ride over to my friend Gordon’s house. I took another windy route and this 20-minute leg found my hands and body fine. The temperature had climbed into the teens under a blue sky and bright sun. So it seems that I can ride OK as long as the temperature is at least in the teens and things are dry. Anything lower will require electric gloves I fear.

Finally got my rear rack yesterday. Stopped at Kissell Motorsports and they had it on in 15 minutes. Now I am ready for some scooter camping when spring arrives. Also finished watching "Long Way Round" - the documentary of Charlie Boorman's and Ewan McGregor's ride around the world. Twenty minutes of cold doesn't seem so harsh now.

Riding now, riding later

I left early this morning to ride---plug myself into the day and just feel the world. The temperature was 21 degrees Fahrenheit with a 20 MPH wind when I left. Snow was in the air and little wisps of snow blew over the road in places. I stopped at one point to make a photograph and that was a mistake. Hands froze immediately in the wind when I took off my gloves to fiddle with the camera. They never did get warm again until I pulled into the local library about 45 minutes later.

After about 20 minutes in the library to look at books and writie in my journal I headed to the Vespa dealer to see if I could get them to mount the rear rack I ordered. Good thing about frigid days is that no one has their bikes in the shop. fifteen minutes is all it took to have the thing mounted and be on my way.

As the warmer weather nears I have started thinking about longer rides. Day trips, perhaps and overnight. I want to ride to Ohio to visit my dad's grave. Haven't been there since he was buried. My friend Paul wants me to go on a real long ride with him to New Mexico. That's 2000 miles one way. I don't have that kind of time now that I'm working, but maybe one day. I just rented "Long Way Round", the documentary of Charlie Boorman and Ewan MacGregor riding round the world. 200 days. I'll live that trip vicariously.

Anyways, the microwave is dinging telling me that my tea is ready. Apologies to purists, I heat water in the microwave and use bags. The Earl Grey is hot though....

The Contemplative Ride

I have been thinking about why I ride. The easy answer is it’s fun, a recreational moment away from the noise of work and responsibility. The past couple days I have been reading why other people ride their motorcycles and scooters and have focused on a post on the “Musings of an Intrepid Commuter” blog site that suggests riding can be a path towards a wider understanding of one’s life. I find myself asking if a spirit of contemplation exists for me while I ride, something akin to the Buddhist idea of a meditative walk. There are common elements. I ride alone. I seek out empty stretches of landscape, places where I feel alone. Solitude.

I can’t always find the time to engage this sort of ride, but when I do the results are worth the effort. The temperature by morning will be in the teens but I plan to ride. It won’t be fun or recreational under those circumstances, but it will be positive. And I will feel better for doing it.

Breakfast Ride

Some mornings everything in the universe aligns and the day is perfect. The temperature at 7AM was 38F and rising, the sun was out, and I was going to ride the scooter to a local restaurant to have breakfast with my friend Howard.

Riding in I could see the warm glow of sunlight across the empty cornfields and along the ridgetops. This was one of those days I wished I could just keep riding and skip work. Such is not to be and I had to go to the office after breakfast and get "busy".

The Vespa awaits my return.

A Ride Before the Snow

Yesterday morning I was out on the road by 8:30AM. The air was still at 25 degrees with a promise of snow beginning around noon. I had a few errands to run but my objective was to drive to Bellefonte to see the remains of the historic Bush House Hotel which just burned to the ground.

The Vespa had just been to the dealer for an oil change and new rear tire. They adjusted the valve lash and generally gave it a good going over to make sure everything was functioning well and the scooter passed with no problems or issues. Bellefonte is about 15 miles north of here as the crow flies so it would be a nice ride. Stopped at a nearby Sheetz market for $3.00 of gas and then on the road to Bellefonte.

Before Christmas I bought a pair of Roadmaster snowmobile gloves to keep my hands warm but they still get chilly so I had to stop once just to warm my hands from the heat of the muffler. I had frostbite a couple years back and that hand now gets cold fast---probably from poor circulation. The ride was beautiful and the air was clear. Coming into Bellefonte I could see the pile of rubble that was once a magnificent hotel. A steam shovel had already gotten to the remains so it was mostly a big pile of nothing. I turned up the street towards the Kool Beans Coffee shop and parked myself there to have a cup of hot chocolate before walking down to look at the rubble.

After leaving Bellefonte I made a stop at "Nature's Cover", a place that sells stone, gravel, top soil and other compents necessary for serious garden construction and maintenance. I got some prices on various things and figured this year I'll need about two dump trucks full of stuff. So much for transporting on the scooter.

I did run some errands that the Vespa was fine for. A stop at Angelina's Italian food store supplied me with a loaf of fresh baked bread, two pieces of a meat frittata, some cookies, piece of chocolate cake, and a few other little delicacies. Hung the bag on the hook on the front of the seat and rode home.

There is about 3 inches of snow on the ground now and I am not planning on riding for the next few days. I have a lot of work to do in the darkroom so it is probably a good thing I park the scooter. I find myself wanting to ride at the expense of doing other things that have to be done. Like finishing the work for an exhibition coming up in April. I even started to wonder if this BLOG is just a distraction from the things I need to be doing.....

Circumstances interfere with riding

I took the day off work today to do a few errands and then go for a ride. The temperature is 25 F but that's OK. Was going to swing by the Vespa dealer and have them install the new rear rack that I ordered. The plans were a lock. A few minutes ago I heard a "boom" in the basement. Walking down the stairs I could smell something wasn't right. Looks like the boiler or circulation pump has blown. Hot water everywhere. So much for the ride.

Seems like everything is getting between me and the Vespa these past 10 days. Now I have to hang around waiting for the repair people who will arrive anywhere between now and tonight.

So much for riding in the landscape. But I have hopes to still sneak out.