Without a Map

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.

We still had another 80 miles to go before we would be home but were in familiar territory again. A stop for lunch, another to examine a Black Locust tree (another story), and a few more side adventures before riding onto a freshly opened segment of Interstate 99. Paul was kind by keeping his speed to 65 MPH so I could keep up as the highway rose and fell along the mountain.
We got home with another 167 miles on the odometer. No map, no GPS, just a partially utilized index card. And we were fortunate to be able to take advantage of unseasonably warm weather. It didn't last long though. Temperatures are going down again and there is still plenty of time for winter to really visit.

Wind and Weather

"Nothing like a little wind to get the blood pumping and bring on the warm glow of "I'm alive!"."

I posted that comment the other morning on Musings of an Intrepid Commuter before riding to work. At 5AM the wind was blowing hard while I wrote and I was worried more about one of our big spruce trees crashing through the window than I was about anything happening on the road. With gusts at 50 MPH that can push a Vespa around on the road.

By the time I pushed the scooter out of the garage prepared to brave the elements the sun had broken through the clouds and produced a wonderful double rainbow. And I could see both ends touching the horizon. The lens on my little point and shoot wasn't wide enough though to capture the whole thing.

Half way to work the sky closed, wind started to blow hard and rain returned. I had to choose my lane position carefully depending on which direction the wind was coming from because it would knock me three feet without really trying. I didn't want to be too close to somewhere I didn't want to be when that happened. I just had to lean into the wind and bit to compensate and things were fine.

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.

Just another day riding to work...

18º F and Gerbing Electric Gloves

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.

My friend Paul bought me a pair of Gerbing Mens Classic Electric Gloves for Christmas. Nice surprise. He probably was tired of my whining about cold hands and second guessing electrical assistance – so he figured he would just shut me up. Yesterday morning was the first day cold enough to give them a fair test with the thermometer hovering at 18° F.

I’ve heard electric gloves are cumbersome to use. Depending on your tolerance for detail and process there may be some truth in that statement. If you like slip-on shoes and pullover jackets you probably won’t like dealing with electric gloves. I’m used to getting on and off the Vespa quickly and the departure ritual is second nature. Acquiring electric gloves means I have to develop another ritual.

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.

LESSON ONE: The gloves aren’t going to burn you. I don’t know where someone would get the idea that you could burn yourself with these gloves. At 32° F the elements are supposed to heat to 130° F. And the elements are insulated from directed contact with skin so no burning is going to take place. Using them at 18 ° at 50 MPH you can barely tell they are heating. At sub-freezing temperatures I don’t want a thermostat, I want full power.

LESSON TWO: They do keep your hands warm. Or at least not cold. Like I said I like feeling heat. My hands remained comfortable but not warm and performed much better than the expedition mittens I used last winter where my hands would go numb after 15 to 20 minutes of riding. I stop a lot to take pictures and have to take off the gloves. Holding a frozen camera my hands freeze fast. One of the nice features of the electric gloves is that they will slowly restore numb hands to relative comfort.

LESSON THREE: They are cumbersome to use. Running cables through the jacket every time I gear up, plugging in gloves and connectors, making sure the engine is running before plugging in or disconnecting before turning off in kindness towards the battery, it’s a lot of fussing around. And you need to do things in order. If you put the gloves on before you make those connections you have to start all over again. Since I stop and start a lot it means a lot of extra steps. I can deal with it in return for warm hands but I bet some would find it bothersome if not flat out irritating. I liken the process to putting an infant into a car seat. Once you are practiced it is a piece of cake. To the unwashed outsider it looks like hell.

LESSON FOUR: The gloves are nice. Well made, soft, luxurious on the hands, warm on their own, I really do like them. I fought the cold hand battle a long time, convincing myself it was a badge of riding honor to function in the cold by warming my hands on the headlight. I remained stubborn in the face of many suggestions to get electric gloves. Now I have them and I am ruined. What’s next? A windshield? Electric gloves? A motorcycle? I fear the bigger is better trap or which technology is a part.

At least my hands will be warm as I think about this stuff.

Resolving for the New Year...

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.

It snowed last night -- walking the dog at 3AM on trackless streets with large, heavy snowflakes falling hard transformed my neighborhood into something right out of "It's a Wonderful Life". I kept waiting for someone to run past screaming "Hello you beautiful scooter rider!" By the time I woke up this morning it was 10:30 and the snow had melted from the roads though I did manage to find an abandoned farm to further experiment with snow riding. I'm always pleased with how the Vespa GTS presents itself in pictures.

Resolutions don't mean much without action. That missing element may explain why diet and exercise continue to show up on my resolution list year after year. Something new has caught my attention and has been turning for months in my head in an embryonic, pre-cognitive state until just a few days ago during my two-week holiday I realized I always seem to be in a hurry. Always in a rush.

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 for a long time the idea just wasn't sinking in that I was a rushing fool. I figured since I was riding a scooter I couldn't possibly be rushing. As I think about a resolution to quit rushing the magnitude of it is unnerving. It means some big changes and probably eliminating some things. But I'm ready. I'm tired of the old "the faster I go the behinder I get" routine.

I could not resist attempting to follow the farm lane in the first picture out along the field and across to a paved road a mile or so in the distance. The ground was pretty solid and the snow not too deep so off I went. The tires failed me on a very slight incline of snow on grass. Just no traction at all so I had to abandon the journey. I can only hope I have better traction with my resolutions.

Stretching My Riding Legs

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.

I had no idea where I was going, and not a whole lot of enthusiasm for the journey. That's how I get when I am lying around the house overindulging. I forced myself onto the scooter. Barely.

My friend Paul surprised me this Christmas with a pair of Gerbing electric gloves. I was hoping to give them a good workout on this ride but that will have to wait for colder weather. I'll post more details on how they perform later.

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.

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

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.

The magic of the season I felt as a child has changed -- replaced by the knowledge that this is indeed a wonderful life. And while I don't know where Scooter in the Sticks will be going in the coming weeks and months I'm glad you are along for the ride!

I'll leave you with the song below that triggers fond memories of a time when I was younger. Whatever your faith, belief, or tradition is, best wishes to you and yours for a fine holiday.

Bringing Home the Christmas Tree

It's now a tradition -- bringing home the Christmas tree on the back of the Vespa. I can't help but think of Clark Griswold in the Christmas Vacation movie driving to get a tree in the woods for an old fashion family Christmas. I may have even sung a carol or two on the way home.

The tradition's continuation was still in question that morning. Kim and I were talking about alternatives to a tree, it was getting late in the season, and we just weren't sure. Sitting in Starbucks enjoying a pre-holiday breakfast of tea and chocolate marble cake I decided to ride to the Tait Farm for a tree.

Business was slow on a weekday this close to Christmas so I had the place pretty much to myself. A few people were wandering around looking at trees and decorations. With the temperature in the upper 30's the melting snow made the fields a little sloppy so I decided to buy a pre-cut tree rather than wander around with a saw and cut my own. Waiting patiently among the pines and spruces was a lovely six and a half foot Douglas Fir.

It didn't take long to strap the tree to the rear rack and start towards home. While there weren't a lot of people at the farm there was a lot of traffic on the road (US 322) running past the place. It's a main artery between Interstate 80 and points south through Central Pennsylvania and thick with trucks and cars. I wanted to take a more rustic and relaxed path home -- to the right I would find a nice gravel road but with no winter maintenance it would likely still be covered with snow and ice. To the left just a half mile down the road I could turn off and ride through a golf course and into a quiet valley that would lead me home. I waited until I could see a big gap in traffic and made a beeline towards the golf course. With the tree on the back I couldn't go much faster than 45 MPH without the tree beginning to shake. I could see a line of tractor-trailers bearing down on me in my rear-view mirrors. By the time I made the turnoff they were only a hundred feet behind me and coming fast. Ho. Ho. HO!

Once in Brush Valley things were much more relaxed and I could ride along slowly and enjoy the scenery and sing a few bars of Let it Snow and I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas. Dean Martin or Bing Crosby I'm not. Having earplugs does enhance the singing of even a less than mediocre singer like me.

I didn't go straight home. I wanted to find another present for Kim so I stopped at the soon to go out of business Federal House, a small gift shop with an eclectic collection of things. With everything at 75 percent off I purchased two 10 by 16 inch paintings mounted in ornate, rustic metal frames. No problem with transport on the Vespa -- just strapped them down on top of the tree with a few more bungee cords.

I like Christmas and tradition is important. If you are looking to add one yourself you may want to consider hauling a Christmas tree home on the back of your scooter or motorcycle. It looks more imposing than it actually is. The tree weighs less than a passenger and when balanced correctly it doesn't even take much to keep it attached. Keep the tree less than 9 feet in length and you won't even be a wide load!

Decision Time: Snow is Falling

When I looked out the window of my office yesterday at midday it was snowing. The temperature hovered at 32º F. It was just like last winter when I rode home in a snowy mess. I was taking the afternoon off, a few extra vacation days tacked on to the Christmas holiday. I had things to do and had to make a decision.

On went the gear and I found myself looking at the snow covered Vespa. The roads were wet but clear so I made a decision to ride.

Just in case the temperature dipped and snow would start to accumulate on the road surface I traveled home by roads less traveled where I could more easily set the pace without triggering any emotional displays from drivers intent on getting somewhere fast.

Snow continued to fall in large flakes and I enjoyed the transformation of the landscape under the soft light. Scenes like this are why riding in winter is so satisfying.

The roads remained clear until I got closed to home and the roads were more protected by tree cover and I suspect a bit colder. Strips of slush and snow grew larger and were quite slippery. I stopped several times to test the traction and the utility of the Pirelli tires on the Vespa GTS.

At best, their utility in this type of weather is marginal. The tread design doesn't allow for an aggressive bite in snow and the rubber compound doesn't retain the sticky traction qualities shown in warm weather. Careful riding, slow speeds, and continual planning make it possible to ride reliably in this sort of stuff.

The weather forecast doesn't call for any snow until after Christmas so the riding should be fair at least until then. And I'm on vacation too. I wonder what I can do...

Don't Give Up

Perhaps I was supposed to stumble across this video right now.

A flame of recognition runs through me each time I hear Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush sing Don’t Give Up. Woven through the lyrics and melody is a story of struggle, surrender, and hope. As the year nears an end I find myself more deeply engaged in reflection and the paths I have wandered. Old wounds and loss, opportunities squandered, poor choices and unfortunate circumstance. It’s good to remember. And perfect days with a wife who loves me, support of family and friends, good food, fine chocolate, fast sunrises over clear roads, and so much more to be grateful for. All these memories make up the tapestry of my life and remind me that smooth roads follow rough ones. Around each bend is something new.

Snow be damned I wanted to ride today. Left in the dark to have an early breakfast with my friend Howard. The streets in town were dressed in tiny white lights for the holidays. The Christmas spirit has taken hold. The roads were mostly clear and I was riding in straight lines so any sudden ice in the dark would be more easily negotiated. The weather forecast called for a chance of a sudden inch or so of snowfall about the time I would be riding to work but I’ll deal with that if and when it comes.

Winter Riding Blues

It’s near midnight and I can hear the steady patter of sleet on the livingroom window. A fitting end to a gray day. And an even grayer week. The ice on the driveway hinted at better options than to go for a ride. I always need more concrete proof and was looking for something to drain the noise and chaotic energy of a busy and mostly rideless week. Beyond the driveway was a bare road, some salt residue, and only an occasional patch of ice. Perfectly manageable riding conditions.

The thermometer indicated 29° F when I pushed the Vespa out of the garage and carefully rolled it across the ice to a bare spot and started it up. After a short struggle to get over the heap of snow and ice left a couple days ago. More evidence that the tires on the scooter are not intended for much more than dry roads or wet pavement. But I really needed to be in motion, hoping a ride would strip away the disinterest and laziness I felt all week. I could tell from the difficulty I was having finding anything to pint the camera at that I was in the firm and solid grip of the winter blues.

The first stop I made was more to test the firmness and traction on the side of the road than any desire to make a picture. Standing on the ice I realized I just wanted to go home, curl up on the couch and go to sleep. Anything but be on the road. I want to believe I’m not alone in these feelings. That riding loses its luster from time to time.

Not motivated to keep going and not ready to throw in the towel either I continued to ride. After a few errands I rode to the ski slopes at Tussey Mountain. To the casual driver the roads were clear and dry but to someone on a scooter or motorcycle they were dry with sudden small patches of ice in random and unpredictable places. The only prudent response was to slow down and scan the road surface close to the Vespa carefully.

Watching the skiers and snowboarders taking advantage of the modest snow on one of the runs I got to see the results of loss of grip and traction in the snow. The Vespa has no edge to dig into the slippery stuff.

It was cold even though I have ridden in much colder weather. The foggy picture of my late breakfast at the Pump Station results from the sudden exposure of a cold lens to warm air offers some indication of the temperature.

It’s late and time for bed. Tomorrow is another day and perhaps the winter blues will move on as the snow and sleet are predicted to do. I guess the Vespa can’t do everything.

Riding Towards Christmas

Every year it seems as if life shifts into high gear this time of year. I struggle to stay tuned into the Christmas spirit and stop to enjoy the simple things. It took some gentle persuasion by Kim to nudge me out the door one evening to shoot a picture of the little snow-covered tree in our front yard.

After some bad weather and hectic work schedule I managed to get out on the weekend for a ride after more gentle nudges by Paul. In his honor I made another jumping picture. As he prepared to leap from the platform at the back of the train all I could imagine was a broken ankle. Safety experts at work counsel farmers to not jump down from their tractors due to the high incidence of injury. The same counsel should be offered to riders who jump from trains.

We arrived in Bellefonte during the last moments of their Victorian Christmas Celebration. I managed to photograph one of the carriages drawn by a team of Percheron horses transporting people around town. These events are always shine with more seasonal magic if there’s snow but this time everyone had to be content with 40-degree weather.

Paul and I idled the remains of the day at Cool Beans Coffee and Tea but eventually had to head for home before it got dark and the temperature dropped below freezing making the chance ice spot more probable.

The sun hit the horizon about six miles from home and the temperature dropped to 33 degrees by that time as well.

Stopping to look out over the valley I remembered that the Christmas tree farm where we get our tree was off in the distance. Even though I was riding towards home I was also riding towards a tree as well. Perhaps this weekend if the snow isn’t too bad I’ll bring one home.

Two-Lane Blacktop

A colleague at work recently began riding. About the same time he spread his blogging wings and has slowly been moving forward on both fronts. Jonathan is riding a vintage BMW R75/7 airhead in wonderful condition. I'm not sure the precise year but it is definitely a fine looking machine. Jonathan shows all the makings of a serious rider and blogger but as those of you already involved in this type of enterprise know it is a struggle sometimes to figure out how to fit it into an already busy life.

So I thought I would introduce his blog, Two-Lane Blacktop, to everyone so you can perhaps watch it develop from infancy. I am always curious about the directions taken by riders and writers both in the world and in a blog.

Jonathan and I have not ridden together but if I can coax him out onto the road this winter you may see that black BMW in pictures with the Vespa GTS.

Update on John's Surgery

I spoke with John on the phone a few minutes ago and he is in good spirits and all signs are positive concerning today's graft surgery. Surgeons drilled into the bone and saw blood indicating that the bone was alive and well, skin was grafted over the exposed bone and if it takes he could be back home, or at least at a facility in town by Christmas.

We talked a bit about his future on two wheels but I will leave it to him to comment in that area. He may post here or send me something. We both agreed that it is a personal decision that no one else can make.

A Prayer for John

Riders everywhere often feel some level of connection to other riders when an accident occurs. My friend John will be undergoing surgery this Friday and I ask that you consider taking a moment to say a prayer for him. Even if this is not something you do or believe perhaps you would pretend this once. What could it hurt to add to the positive feelings in the world...

John sent the letter below to friends and family to let us know what was in store. I hope none of you ever have to send such a letter.


Dear All,

The surgeons haven’t made a final decision on the procedure yet—either a major skin graft, a muscle graft from above the knee, or else attempt another flap using part of the gastroc (calf) muscle. They will confer on the approach and let me know, but we got a green flag from infectious disease, whom the plastic surgeons thought would be very conservative and make us wait two weeks. The ID doc said, “Now or never. It doesn’t make any sense to wait; if they can do this next Friday, that would be fine.”

So, apparently the infection is down enough that it won’t harm the graft – they weren’t sure whether the dying graft caused the infection, or the infection killed off part of the graft. But the wound is now very clean, and the infection is diminished, so here we go.

All the doctors are saying they want to avoid the free flap surgery, which takes muscle from the stomach, and then they microsurgically attach healthy arteries and veins in the leg to the transplanted muscle. Dr. Bitterly says that procedure has about a 70% success rate, and he would only do it if it were “4th and 99, and we’re not there yet.”

He also said that sometimes the patient and surgeons reach a mutual point of frustration, where it’s just not worth it to go on. He says we’re not there yet either. His colleague, Dr. Harter, who did all the orthopedic work, is fond of saying, “Save the leg, lose the soul.” In other words, the leg can really take over the focus of one’s life. But we still have two arrows in the quiver—this Friday’s graft, and the free flap, should that become an option.

So, positive attitudes, thoughts and prayers everybody. It’s kinda like a televised World Series—they always take it to Game Seven. Well, that’s enough sports metaphors. I hope this finds you well, and that things go smoothly this Friday and after. Will keep you posted, and thanks for all your kind thoughts, prayers and support all along.

More later – love, John

Morning Expedition

When I went to bed last night the weather forecast for my morning commute was questionable. Snow squalls through the night with warming temperatures around the freezing mark around 7 AM. And winds gusting to 50 MPH. Laying in bed I wondered when one of the big spruce trees would crash through the bedroom ceiling. As I fell to sleep I figured I would be driving the truck to work. Probably the smart choice.

At 6AM rain and blowing wind painted a gloomy picture outside the window. Even the dog hesitated at the door before braving the elements. Standing out in front of the house it didn’t seem that awfully cold – 32° F with 50 MPH gusts – hell, I could ride in that. And so I began my morning expedition.

Not even a mile from home I rode into heavy sleet. That coupled with a badly fogged visor and fast traffic forced me off the road to regroup. And take a picture of the Vespa idling as I decided the best course of attack.

With visor clear and a long break in traffic I rode towards town in heavy wind but thankfully only wet roads. I took extra caution at intersections, curves and any other places I could see myself of others breaking free on a sudden slippery spot. At traffic lights I took the opportunity to warm my aching fingers on the headlight. Parking at the office I kept the GTS as close to the building as I could in hopes that it would not blow over in the wind. What a great ride!

I wasn’t feeling well and left for home around 1PM. The forecast called for snow and it was a good thing I left when I did. Sitting in the living room I watched the snow begin to fall and cover the ground and road with a slippery coating of ice and snow. It would not have been fun to ride in that with the wind blowing so hard. Right now it's dark, cold, and windy. Everything is shaking. At least the Christmas lights haven't blown away.


I know I will be driving tomorrow. Looking outside it just feels to cold to imagine anything else. I'll have to chip the snow off the truck and burn up some gas...

Looking Down the Road at Risk and Regret

I’ve not posted in over ten days and I have been avoiding this one for over a month – from the time my friend John rode his BMW into a garbage truck on the way to work. The Pennsylvania State Police cited him for riding too fast for conditions. As John commented “You should be able to stop for something as large as a garbage truck.”


His well ridden (Iron Butt rider) motorcycle won’t see any further service and sets in pieces at his home. And physically the future is cloudy.

His injuries were severe with a month in intensive care and weeks more in acute care. Dozens of medical procedures, operations, and hundreds of thousands of dollars later he’s still in medical limbo on whether he’ll be able to keep his right leg.


Multiple compound fractures, infection, and failed muscle grafts have created a ponderous challenge for John and the medical team. The hospital he's being treated in has wireless internet access so John has sent numerous dispatches in the way of images, PDF files, and PowerPoint presentations.


I've included a few to give you an idea of the physical nature of his injuries. I've not included the more graphic ones from early in the process.

For the past few weeks I’ve noticed the accident is present while riding. Situations appear while riding that requires consideration and assessment. That process has come to include a scenario for catastrophe – a direct result of thoughts about John’s accident. I’ve always been aware of the risk that comes with riding but I have begun to wonder about regret.

Like pilots who don’t talk about crashes I question my own mental turning of this subject. For good or ill it is the way my mind works and I don’t easily let stuff like this pass. No matter who or what is at fault in an accident a person is left with their own situation. And I suppose everyone would regret an accident, a bad decision, an unfortunate circumstance. I ask myself thought would I regret ever having gotten on the Vespa if I found myself in John’s situation. If I was spending time looking at an injured leg not in control or sure of what was going to happen. Would I? Would you?


Weighed against those thoughts is the question asked at the end of my life “Would I regret it if I stopped riding or never rode at all?” That answer would be different for everyone and dependant on what place riding occupies in a person’s life. For me, riding is more than transportation and it surpasses recreation. It touches something spiritually fundamental in me the same way photography and writing has. I would be diminished if I stopped riding.

Many riders do stop after an accident. I’ve not considered stopping nor have I become fearful on the road but something has changed. Perhaps I’ve matured. John and I have not talked of regrets but he has said the accident has put him at a major life crossroad. He’s not sure if he’ll be able or willing to ride again.


Surgeons have attached a vacuum pump to the severe wound on his leg in hopes of eventually making it ready for a muscle graft to allow the leg to finally heal and save his leg. It’s a day-by-day assessment.

So I continue to ride to work and make the occasional trip through the countryside with my camera. Riding down the road I’m aware that I am solely responsible for anything that happens to me. I’m not talking about legal responsibility but actual responsibility for living. It’s not a matter of right and wrong. I am the one who has to live in the circumstances I find thinking about this stuff has taken a bit of the luster from the road.