Riding Makes the Heart Beat Swift

The familiar pattern, an errand, a chore, any chance to be on two wheels, moving, traveling, riding in the world.  The memory was almost dim until this evening the spell drifted like smoke on a calm night through mind and flesh.

Whispering.

Ride, ride, ride...

And suddenly the scooter is parked in the woods, the sun dying in the west, a simple pleasure of being pulsing through veins, heart beating with a swift lightness.

Riding again, a small scooter, a humble errand.

Remember how it feels, alone on the road, cares washed away revealing enchantment, a trance lined with bliss at just being alive?  The magic of riding -- forgotten somehow.




The last remnants of winter, dark, gray, dirty with the heavy feelings of a world too long cut off from the light yet I feel impervious to it's power.  I only want to ride, if only for a few minutes on a short, ordinary errand.

I remember the bewitchment, the alchemy of air and movement, sound and smell, images sweeping by like a fast stream in spring.

Almost home, a quick stop for a picture of the warm weather location of the Piston and Pints Moto Hang in warm weather.  For those nearby, there will be a Piston and Pints get together tomorrow -- March 30 at 6pm at Legends -- a lounge at the Penn Stater Conference Hotel in State College, PA.

A few miles on the road rewired my brain, introduced a heaping dose of thrill cut with desire and electricity. Side effects:  quickened heartbeat, easy smile, temporary reversal of the aging process.

Holy shit -- I love to ride. I have to fix the Vespa...

Mechanic Off-Duty

The Vespa GTS 250ie still sits in the garage awaiting the rise of the Vespa mechanic.  Tools are ready, parts on hand, even a sign hailing service was acquired hoping to prod the mechanic into motion.  All reports indicate an unusually resistant strain of procrastination.  Theories are mixed to the cause and lasso everything from cold weather to indolence.  Regardless, scooter riding has ground to a halt along with a list of other creative and spiritual endeavors.

Still, some things continue on -- more from coercion than desire.  These images, all made during the past week, markers along a narrow trail seeking a way out of a mental winter.

Junior insists on walks.  Walk is too tame, runs, wild reckless forays involving blaze orange rubber balls that whistle and sore throwing arms.  No excuses accepted and minor variations in schedule are met with snorts of frustration.  Repairing the Vespa?  Junior couldn't care less.

Trudging to work to meet his needs is fine as long as the balls continue to fly.

Kim saw the doll first, captured it, resolved the strangeness with her camera as the totem reached out as if to make one last horrible shake of winter stupor, laughing and cursing the actions not taken by the man with the iPhone, the Vespa, darkroom, writing, photography and a dozen other paths thick with weeds and fast disintegrating beneath the sadness of winter.

Kim always sees things first.  And not just in regard to pictures.

Avoidance isn't limited to the Vespa.  It's locked cameras away and transformed the needed repairs to the darkroom into a mystical task of construction known only to long gone Druids or craftsman familiar to King Solomon.  With great effort and focus and days of meditation a few moments of photographic expression became possible with the iPhone using the Hipstamatic app, Tinto 1884 lens, D-Type Plate Film.

For a few moments I could pretend to be a photographer.

Two more rolls of black and white film through the Leica M6 and added to the growing collection of unprocessed images, quiet reminders of a road less traveled.

Under a bright blue sky and dreams of warm air a miracle occurred and prints were made.  An excited, agitated buzz of creative energy was quickly strangled by the harsh reality of returning snow.  Gordon Harkins captured this fleeting moment of hope.

A Walmart print.

After midnight, fiddling with Hipstamatic, watching Project Runway and the wild, driven antics of designers pursuing an idea. A dream.

I remember that feeling, that drive.  And I realize now, for no good or bad reason, at a pace all its own, things recede, there's an ebb and flow to what the mind demands.  Last night I looked at the shop manual for the Vespa again, shaking my head at the simplicity of the repair that has kept me grounded all winter.  Over the weekend I looked at the sink and the minor nature of the repair.

Winter was for rest and reflection.  And with the coming of spring things will change and grow.  The Vespa will return to the road, the camera will fall into compulsive use and the world will be different.

Damn, I am having fun.  And I didn't even know it.

Stranger in a Strange Land

Hot tea, a pen and small notebook provide company until friends arrive at Saint's Cafe on Sunday morning.  Familiar rituals, touchstones, reminders along the road which makes up a life.  And until recently a ride on the Vespa played an important part.

The morning sun and blue sky was strong enough to have me thinking about sunglasses instead of the scattered snow showers predicted.  Last night the desire to ride was strong, insistent, whispering until I found myself on my daughter's Yamaha Vino under a sliver of moon just before midnight.

Silent and waiting in the garage the Vespa still suffers from a simple mechanical failure.  Soon, soon I'll make that repair.

Winter remains on the road in the form of gravel and grit, just part of the additional risk a rider must consider in cold weather.  Walking the dog before the ride an argument grew in my head between the rider experience in sub-freezing travel and a stranger who questioned the wisdom of riding a scooter at 19F.  With a mental hand gesture I left it behind and soon found myself on the road again if only for a short ride into town.

Saint's Cafe on a frigid morning, a cold world outside well seen through freshly washed windows.

Something was different this morning, I felt a stranger to this frigid world.  The expected rush didn't come, only the noise of the earlier mental arguments. Maybe it was just the cold but I felt oddly mortal standing on the gravel lane when I recalled a line from Robert Heinlein's book Stranger in a Strange Land: "There is no safety this side of the grave."

I need to remember that.

Stalled But Still Moving

It's been months since I've ridden the Vespa.  Any adventure on the road occurs inside the comfortable confines of a Honda Odyssey van.  Driving to Altoona, Pennsylvania today in the fog plucked chords of longing for being on the scooter.  All I need do is repair the Vespa, brave the cold concrete floor of the garage and do a little work.

A little work; finding the time has been difficult.  But the repairs are slowly rising up on my todo list.

Some things remain the same.  Junior continues to insist on quality time in the world and I am inclined to try and deliver.  This morning was nice as the temperature was already in the 40s when as we made our way through the park. There has been a lot of good riding weather this winter and I've missed pretty much all of it save for a few trips on my daughter's Yamaha Vino.

For now both the Vespa and Vino continue to quietly sip electricity from the Battery Tenders wondering what the hell has happened to me.

Soon though, soon...

Junior and I made the end of the day walk in State College, Pennsylvania.  Calder Alley offers a nice, long stroll at night with a lot of things for me to look at with the camera and many fine aromas for Junior to consider behind the many bars and restaurants.

Just a quick note to let you know your RSS feeds aren't dead and neither am I.  Just consumed with other more pressing matters at the moment.

This picture would look better if there was a Vespa in it.

Memories of Christmas; Past and Present

Christmas comes so quickly now, the long anticipation and waiting as the season's magic grew that I felt as a child now seems like a sudden flash, a moment come and gone.  And as I sit here on Christmas eve, snow falling quietly outside, the house warm and quiet as the kids have just left and Kim and I prepare for that long winter's nap, I have a little time to reflect and share best wishes for a fine holiday.

The Vespa still sits in the garage waiting for me to engage in repair actions and return to the cold roads of winter.  Reaching into the archives from a few years ago I retrieved this image of the scooter hauling home a Christmas tree.  After 8 weeks of Vespa free living I have begun to forget how capable that machine is...

Yesterday morning I rode my daughter's Yamaha Vino into town, temperatures hovering around 28F and some snowy reminders that on the ground that my scanning style has to shift into winter riding mode.  On the short trip I identified a half dozen stealthy ice patches that could cause problems for an unsuspecting rider.  

Saint's Cafe feels like home -- a quiet festive atmosphere where people know my name.  On Sunday morning I get to spend some time with friends, talk about life, photography and the things that bring us together.

An early view, not long after the doors opened, before people begin to arrive.  In those silent moments my mind wanders through Christmas past and Christmas present.




The Vino has begun to grow on me.  Lights and trees and trappings of the season remind me of trips to Pittsburgh as a kid with my mother, the pilgrimage to Joseph Hornes to see Santa Claus, the Christmas Town trains at Buhl Planetarium, candlelight services as church on Christmas even and all the other little experiences that color my ideas of the holiday.  And they wash over me as I ride beneath the twinkling lights as if I was 6 years old again.

More riding magic perhaps.

One last stop on the ride home to admire the home decorations that come closest to Clark Griswold in the movie "Christmas Vacation."  This site would have fueled years of seasonal magic for me as a kid.

The clock draws near Christmas morning and it's time to shut down the computer and hold hands with my wife and await the arrival of Saint Nick.

So to all who visit and read here, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

No Riding, No Blogging, No Nothing

Nothing like a KTM draped in Christmas lights to ring in the holiday season.  Hard to believe it's December already.  The festive machine appeared at the Piston and Pints Christmas party on the deck of the Boalsburg Yacht Club.  More pictures appear on my Scooter in the Sticks Facebook page.

The past few months have been so busy and hectic that the mass upload feature of Facebook is pretty seductive.

The Vespa has been dead for over a month -- the HT spark plug lead burned off.  A replacement wire arrived last week but I have to dismantle the scooter to attach it to the coil.  No time or energy for that task yet.

I've read Jack Riepe's new book, Conversations with a Motorcycle, several times now and have completed several drafts of a review.  Like the Vespa, the review has fallen into a world of wait as other more pressing matters consume time and energy.

It's a great book and worth adding to your library and will make a great Christmas gift.  I'll offer more extensive comments soon.  Until then Riepe will probably think I never read it or something. Click the link above to find out how to order.

Stirring the mix of busyness and chaos more -- I'm still debating over whether it's time to abandon film, a darkroom, and the ever more archaic process of chemical photography.  I love silver prints but I'm not feeling the fire lately...

The Leica M6 still works and I've continue to add to the growing pile of exposed film.  I hope to awake one day soon and know what I should do.

Still manage to make my way to Saint's Cafe on Sunday morning but neither Paul nor Gordon have been able to push me one way or the other when it comes to photography.  I suppose they have their own demons to wrestle.

That's where things stand in the sticks at the moment.  High on the list is to publish my review of Conversations with a Motorcycle.  So is fixing the Vespa.

Not sure which I'll get to first.

Weather Calculations

Deciding to ride when weather is less than ideal involves an assessment of risk and a series of calculations of physical and mechanical factors. Things like road surface, wind and rain predictions, and tire condition to name a few. As much as I would like to reduce all of this to a neat equation there is a variable at work that skews the results -- what I want to do. If I want to ride I'll figure out a way to show supporting calculations.

I'll leave any discussion of my desire variable to another post.

For now, I'll concentrate on the more easily measured factors. Hurricane Sandy has dominated the news for the past few days with examples of disaster from the Bahamas to Rhode Island. The storm was here when I went to bed last night. Judging by the radar display on the iPhone there would be no riding today.

Storms are funny though and hard to predict. By morning there was almost no wind and just a mist of rain. Walking up the street with Junior before breakfast I had decided to ride. The first variable considered was road surface: wet, lots of leaves and small debris to hinder traction, nothing particularly exceptional. The second variable was the possibility of water on the road. The air intake on a modern Vespa is low making any water crossings mechanically dangerous. I thought about routes and the potential for flooding and felt comfortable that options were available.

Standing next to a puddle in the murky light on the way to work I tried to gauge the exact depth of water to avoid.

Traffic is always a riding consideration regardless of weather. Schools were closed so traffic would be light. At a stop just outside of town I was surprised how little there was. Many stayed at home today despite the relatively mild visit by Hurricane Sandy. I learned a little later I was making these assessments inside the "eye".

Plenty of motorcycle parking at work.

No other riders made the trip. In a meeting later in the morning someone referred to me as one of those people Governor Christie of New Jersey was referring to. I'm comfortable that if I lived in Atlantic City my calculations would have been much different and would have been made from the comfort of a hotel in the Poconos.

I don't make foolish decisions on two wheels.

Secondary streets were littered with leaves making for an extremely slippery surface. Slow down is the word of the day. I found myself wishing I had already mounted my more aggressive winter tires.

Running a few errands at lunchtime found things still rather quiet both in terms of people and weather. While riding I kept processing the important stuff -- speed, road surface, rain, wind, air temperature, traffic, and my own stamina in the dampness and cold.

By the end of the day the temperature dipped to 39F. Chilly if you aren't prepared.

I made a note on the way home to apply a new coat of Nik Wax to my riding gear to improve its resistance to rain. While standing and making this picture looking towards Mount Nittany on a shortcut home I was reminded of how easily my hands get cold. Perhaps it's time to break out the electric gloves.

Satisfying ride.

You Meet the Nicest People on a Honda

It's not every day you see a nearly 50 year old motorcycle still in operation.

Amanda and Ivan rode a 1965 Honda S90 to the farmer's market in Boalsburg, Pennsylvania adding a few more miles to the 12,000 currently on the odometer.  A short conversation revealed Ivan keeps the machine in operating condition along with two other vintage bikes -- a 1982 Yamaha XJ750 and a 1974 Honda CB360.

After a quick photo with the iPhone I couldn't help but think about the advertising campaign in the early 1960s that rocketed Honda sales upward in the United States -- You meet the nicest people on a Honda.

Makes me wonder if I don't need a project bike in the garage...

Piston and Pints Season Ending Cookout

The season for Piston and Pints ended this year with lots of motorcycles (and three scooters) and food and friendship.  Ken Hull's brainchild event was a rousing success.

A toast to all involved and plans for next spring and a return of Piston and Pints.  Having too many pictures to post here I decided to try and share them via my Scooter in the Sticks Facebook page.

Have a look and see who you can tag.

When Busy Collides with Riding

As the days shorten it's more and more common to arrive at work under a gray autumn sky.  Leaves are falling and probably already past the peak for those engaged in regional leaf peeping.  I've been so busy of late that my riding is limited to getting back and forth to the office and any writing or photography is connected there as well.

For a lot of riders the change in season brings an end to their riding.  For me, I'm content knowing that my favorite riding times are just beginning.  Visually the landscape is stimulating and the brisk temperatures rattle me from the lethargy of summer.  I'm reminded of a dog I used to have and how he would come alive in winter from a brief dip into a cold mountain stream.

All I need is a few miles on the Vespa.

I have a ton of stuff to post and share.  Just need to find the time...

Piston and Pints: The Video

I shot a lot of pictures at the last Piston and Pints event in Boalsburg, Pennsylvania but have been too busy (or maybe lazy) to process them and post.  But I did try out a video with a Nikon D5100 camera -- just a walk through the event to have a look at what's going on.  While this is just a slice of what went on by the end of the evening 26 motorcycles made an appearance -- quite a feat for Ken Hull's little get togethers.

The next event will be on October 16 from 5 to 7pm and there will be a season ending cookout on October 21st.

I'll get busy with those other pictures...

Another Vespa Morning

No ride begins, Vespa or otherwise, until Junior has his pound of flesh -- some sort of walk, ball tossing/throwing/shoulder-destroying session.  He's passionate about life and expects no less from me.

Was an odd morning as weather moved quickly through the valley providing an assorted palette of color and light in which to exist.  And ride.

Mt. Nittany, the familiar iconic ridge know to Penn Staters around the world, sits in the middle of Happy Valley and along one of my often used routes to town or campus.  I've been looking at a variation of this view for over 40 years now.  Where has the time gone?

State College, Pennsylvania is quiet on Sunday morning with the streets noticeably empty.  Riding, prowling the well worn byways in the area remain a satisfying action for me, mind wandering, eyes drinking in the color and texture of this little world.  I've always wandered like this with a camera.  The Vespa merely expanded my range.

During the week these motorcycle spaces are often full of the day riders, those individuals who venture out during the warm hours, the busy times.  On Sunday morning only the churchgoers, feral cats, and sober riders inhabit the world.  Or so it seems.

 Home again, home again, jiggity-jig.  Only I didn't buy a fat pig.  Just a fine, uneventful, meditative series of moments on the Vespa.  Hard to explain to some why this ritual is important.  Popular myth presents riding as either a dangerous act or outlaw activity.  Or worse.  But on another Vespa morning I just don't care..

The Vespa Chariot Rig

Often questioned or criticized by motorcycle riders for venturing out on the highway on what some consider less than adequate power.  After considering all the alternatives I decided on a classical Roman approach to bridge the gap -- a Vespa chariot rig akin to those breathtaking scenes I remember from Ben-Hur as a kid.

This picture was made by my friend Gordon Harkins just before I picked up the reins to ride a few more miles at breakneck speed through Moshannon State Forest.

A more conventional portrait of Gordon and I along the road.  He has about 300 miles or so on his spanking new Vespa GTS 300 Super.  I'll be posting soon on what it took for him to become a Vespa rider especially since he looks more at home on the set of Sons of Anarchy than anything I can imagine for a scooter...

The Equinox and Genetic Programming

An email alert from Scootin' Old Skool, a blog by author Orin O'Neill, titled Happy Equinox got me wondering about the way I feel this time of year.  On the ride home this evening I could feel winter in the distance, the shortened days triggering some circadian rhythm imprinted in my brain from a thousand generations of really needing to get things in order before the sun favored brothers in the southern hemisphere.

The clouds over Mt. Nittany, the iconic geographic feature that separates Penns Valley from Nittany Valley and Penn State University.  Standing along the road I could feel the cool air creep into my joints, move into my lungs and trigger a biological reaction that left me feeling wary and alone.

Or so I convinced myself.  Migratory birds sense it.  So do squirrels and chipmunks and other animals scurrying to prepare for winter.  Why not me?

Riding creates an intimate relationship with the weather in the fall.  Changes in light, temperature, and wind direction require nimble and ongoing adjustments in a manner not generally needed in warm weather.  Fog is more common this time of year and soon the leaves will transform the landscape into a palette of warm color.  I wonder if the visual stimulation triggers another ancient series of chemical events in my brain leaving me with prehistoric feelings no longer requiring a survival action.

Perhaps it accounts for the unsettled feelings, a mere endocrine response to some genetic programming that kept ancestors alive when mammoths roamed here.

Fall brings big skies.  Dramatic skies.  Natural reminders of things to come.

I've already donned more serious riding gear and I can feel myself steel against the elements on cold mornings.  I'm ready.  A flush of life sweeps through my body as I look towards the heavens.  It's a fine time to ride...