Finding Balance (Again) on the Road

The picture of Jacob Marley’s ghost in Dicken's A Christmas Carol dragging along a ponderous collection of chains and metal boxes always flashes in my head when a week has been abnormally intense. Riding early Saturday morning I could almost hear the clanging and crashing of metal on the highway as the ride steadily stripped away everything that was unimportant until I found myself standing along a quiet, empty road listening to the birds and knowing again what is important and what is noise.

The specific details don’t matter. Everyone gathers their own chains and weights. I’m grateful for the perspective that a ride can deliver. Yesterday morning was a fine day to ride despite the huge temperature change from 45F when I departed to 77F when I pulled back into the driveway. Forced to choose a preference I lean towards the colder air. This part of Pennsylvania has an exceptional collection of roads suitable for two-wheeled exploration. While many find thrills in a rapid consumption of miles with lots of wearing down of the sides of the tires I tend to find thrills in what I see. Stopped along the road near Spruce Creek I took a few moments to look in the water for trout. Only a few miles upstream is the exclusive Spruce Creek Rod and Gun Club, a fishing site called by some the best trout fishing in the eastern United States.

While I generally don’t push the Vespa hard on the road there are lots of places that it’s hard to resist especially considering how little traffic there is on the road. Deer are always a hazard but on this day I only saw a few wild turkeys.

I don’t even know the name of this creek. A Pennsylvania Stream Map created by Professor Howard Higbee years ago still is the definitive resource for identification. Higbee was a professor and soil scientist and worked with our office to produce the original map. It is still for sale by the College of Ag Sciences for $19.95. Click HERE for more information.

No road is too small to explore. This one, Turnpike Road, was more like a long driveway than a road. I followed it along for miles until it turned to gravel and passed through a farm and into an Ag Security Area where I decided to turn around. The road did continue on over a hill and may have eventually run on to another paved road but I just wasn’t in the trespassing mood.

Find the Vespa. As the temperature hit 77F I decided it was time to head home and fix the lawn mower. Riding – lawn mover. I know, not everyone’s first choice but for me the right one. I got that puppy running and cutting grass with near perfect mental and emotional balance. *grin*

And today I’ll being wielding a shovel and rake with something approaching rapture. All thanks to a ride on the Vespa.

3 Prints Project: April 15, 2009

I'm behind schedule -- shooting, printing and posting.  Last week I shifted gears and borrow a 35mm Panorama Adapter for my Mamiya 7 and began shooting these long horizontal negatives.  There is something cinematic about the format that appeals to me.  Or maybe I just needed a break.  There hasn't been time to print or even shoot another roll of film.  My interest hasn't waned but projects coming due at work and the garden calling at home will probably interfere with the project for a couple weeks.

Maybe.  Who knows what tomorrow brings.  I do know that I have to buy more film.

A State of Mind

On the way home from work I was doing a bit of musing as I wandered around a farm field with my camera and was thinking about how I often come to be in places like this.

Dan Bateman, author of Musings of an Intrepid Commuter, recently wrote about the state of mind that riding can put you in – one decidedly different than that sitting behind the wheel of an automobile. I revisited the two paragraphs below a number of times. What Dan wrote soundly struck a chord and neatly sums up the magic of riding for me.

There's something about riding a motorcycle that puts us into a different state of mind than cagers. Sometimes that's bad. We're more likely to find ways to get into trouble, you know! On the other hand, or maybe just the other side of the same hand, I find myself so much more open to the world around me. I see more, feel more, and thus experience more, than when in a car. I find myself so much more willing to wander off the beaten path. The age old question. What's down there? Let's go find out. I'm not so likely to bother with it in a car or my truck. On a bike, in vivid contrast, I'm ready for adventure at a moment's notice.

I think most people who ride experience the same thing. Using a bike for regular transportation amplifies the effect. I spend a lot of time on a bike. So I also spend a lot of time in an open and inquisitive state of mind. It's become a regular trait of mine. Riding is a Zen-like journey. There's so much personal growth that comes as a result of, but not directly tied to, riding. Thus my journey Monday evening.

Musings of an Intrepid Commuter, April 9, 2009

Riding strips away a lot of the noise that builds through the day and can open the door to adventure. I’m not talking about the big, heroic rides across continents, but rather movement through a regular day, through the daily rituals of life. When I push the Vespa back onto its center stand it is almost always to look around. At nothing and everything. I feel the same way I did when I was a kid and everything seemed new and treasure is everywhere. I’m fortunate that I can ride regularly and enter this state of mind.

Dan talks about how a motorcycle makes him more willing to wander off the beaten path. I have to agree. I seldom wheel my Ford Ranger off the beaten path. The enclosed comfort in a modern vehicle makes those turns ponderous and difficult. Or more often just unimportant. I don’t often feel like a kid in my truck. I know it can be done because I used to prowl the Central Pennsylvania landscape in a truck with my view camera in tow. I would move slowly, just as I do on the scooter, and travel down every unmarked path searching for photographic treasure. But it was never easy and I always had to push past the slothful comfort of padded seats and stereophonic music. The Vespa appears in these pictures without any need to push.

Riding to work the next morning was a repeat of the previous evening. Another path, another opportunity to breathe in the world. They aren’t dramatic rides but they are opportunities to be present, something that is more difficult to achieve amidst the noise of daily living. 

I’ve been here before but each time I stop it’s the first time I’ve been here.

3 Prints Project: April 5, 2009

I have some catching up to do since I didn't post last week's images. I keep falling short on shooting, printing and posting. It is a challenge to balance everything and there are times I ask myself why I am doing this. Just when I think I'm nuts to invest the time and energy in the 3 Prints Project I seem to have an epiphany. It's too long to go into detail but I had another revelation. I see a path leading somewhere important so I will keep shooting.

My friend Gordon and I met at Saint's Cafe this morning to look at the week's work. Each time he hands me his contact sheets and prints I know I am in for a visual treat.

Gordon purchased a new (to him) Rolleiflex camera and had a test roll of film to show me. These waist-level cameras are amazing little machines once you get used to them. I left wanting one myself. For some years in the 1970s I used one of them a lot.

After some prodding Gordon has embarked on a series of "happy" pictures of his family. It sounds simple and easy but I know myself that I tend to be attracted to more emotionally intense images of people and for some reason reject the happy ones as cliche. Or something. I probably need to do this myself.

On to the pictures.

I continue to shoot near home. I have put aside any beliefs that I must seek out new or exotic locations. I find the familiar surroundings I travel through every day hold rich stories if I can pay attention. I walk past this willow tree almost every morning and it always seems a little different. I'll keep making pictures of it until I don't see something new. And then probably some more.

Our garden provides frequent subject matter -- during dog walks or morning explorations. As spring time progresses the place changes almost constantly.

I try and keep the Leica M6 handy for moments where the light changes for an instant like it did on this morning when sunlight streamed through a fog for a few moments.

More illuminated fog. The small rangefinder camera serves to make sketches and allows me to practice. A person wrote on a forum recently that compares what I am doing to a musician practicing scales. I am exercising my eye and my technique in preparation for a performance.

I like the metaphor.

This past week I have been shooting with the Mamiya 7 rangefinder camera. This shoots a larger negative and is a bit slower in operation. I've not warmed to the camera but there is an elegance to the prints made from the bigger negative.

I am fascinated by trees. I am another tree photographer. If I am diligent I can work up to rocks in streams.

Postcard: Stickless

Rain all day.  Decided while walking the dog that I wanted to ride.  Left early and meandered through town via Calder Alley.  The roads were unusually slick for some reason.  The circumstances didn't seem any different.  Maybe there is a lot more oil in town.

The weekend will bring damaging winds and slightly lower temperatures.  This is spring.

A View into a Gray World

Last Saturday morning I stepped outside into a gray world. Heavy clouds and remnants of a nighttime rain washed the color from the landscape leaving behind a quiet form of the world. This world requires less energy to embrace and is easier for me to process. It’s as if things have been distilled to their simplest forms and textures without all the noise and confusion that can appear in the color and shadows of postcard sunshine. The most ordinary places reveal their magic and a ride through familiar territory becomes new again. Moving along astride the Vespa in this world provides a special satisfaction.

On this morning my plan was a leisurely ride to breakfast in Bellefonte at the Café on the Park. A circuitous route would cover 20 miles and provide mostly empty roads and many opportunities to stop and look around. I’ve always felt riding was like flying. Not in a plane but if I could actually fly. The scooter exaggerates the effect because there is not much in front of your visual field to interfere with the fantasy like there is with a motorcycle. With earplugs stripping away most of the engine and wind noise it can be like a dream at times. A hyperfocus on the road that moves through an almost surreal landscape.

When I look at the Vespa through a wooded landscape I am reminded of how my wife Kim saw this first in her mind – what my riding would be like. How else could she have created my blog title, Scooter in the Sticks, without knowing?

If I have regrets on the road it is that I can’t keep riding. Pennsylvania has thousands of miles or rural roads that to me seem nothing short of spiritual pathways. For me. A place for slow and deliberate riding.

I’m often asked when I will get a motorcycle. I enjoy looking at motorcycles and find some of them enjoyable to ride. The Vespa GTS 250 strongly insists I make a choice. When I stopped beneath the underpass I was aware of the choice. Where did I want to live on the road? Did I want to slowly meander or eat up miles? The Vespa doesn’t preclude the high road but it does nudge me towards the slow one.

Just outside of Bellefonte I stopped to look at a cross at the corner of an old building. I assumed something bad happened here but could not imagine what. As I stood by the road with the camera the passing cyclists probably were wondering the same.

The Café on the Park. An unassuming place from the outside but unexpectedly elegant inside. These days I have to force myself to ride anywhere else when I am out for breakfast.

A pot of hot tea and my journal keep me occupied and involved in the ride. I have been participating in this kind of morning ritual (sans riding) since I was a teenager. One of the habits I haven’t had to give up.

Breakfast is always excellent. And I love getting fresh fruit. If I wasn’t so damn lazy I could have fresh fruit at home. But it seems overwhelming to slice things in the morning.

The ride home was different. I felt the pressure of the clock and the chores of the day. Riding onto Interstate 99 is a dramatic shift away from a slow ride. The Vespa can handle it. I can handle it. But I really wish I didn’t have to.

Revisiting Risk: The Accident

This post is about my friend John and the accident he was part of when his BMW motorcycle hit the side of a garbage truck one morning on the way to work. This happened a long time ago now --- in October of 2007. The circumstances of the crash don’t matter.

Physically the accident was a tragedy. John suffered severe trauma to his right leg as a result of the collision and after 14 months of surgical and medical combat a life threatening infection led to an amputation. He's now moving towards acquiring his first prosthetic leg.

A simple question comes to me from time to time as I think about John and his journey. He has remained pretty optimistic most of the time and seems to plan ahead to new adventures. It would be easy to take another path in this situation.

What would I do if I was involved in an accident?

A recent ride home from work. I’m traveling 50 mph in the right-hand lane of a four-lane road. A silver Dodge minivan is slowly passing me on the left. Ahead and to my right at a stop sign is an SUV waiting for a chance to cross both lanes and turn left to head back into town. My eyes scan the road ahead, the van to my left, the front wheels of the SUV. My head is calculating options. The SUV driver is watching the approaching traffic waiting for the precise moment to move their foot from the brake to the accelerator. I can see their face, their eyes. We are all involved in a complex dance of behavior, choices and decisions. Options fade quickly as we reach the point of no return. The moment when there are no options should anyone fail to do their part. It’s a moments like these that I think about my friend John.

I don’t think about motorcycle or scooter accidents a lot. I know they can happen and I know that risk can be managed to a great extent. Responsibility falls squarely on my shoulders in taking and managing them.

Back to my question. What would I do if I were in a bad accident? I’ve talked to others who have given up riding after a near miss let alone a collision. Would I do that? There really is no way to tell for sure what I would do but I have to say John’s experience has been instructional in a way I would not have thought back when it first began.

John Rides Again

John was not a recreational rider. Riding was part of his life and who he is. He wrestled with the question himself and yesterday boarded a plane for Florida to pick up a motorcycle and ride it back to Pennsylvania. That’s quite a ride for the first ride after an accident, minus one leg, and no prosthetic leg yet. I talked with John last week and he told me that all the amputee support groups and counselors advise he continue on with his life like nothing happened.

His decision did not sit well with everyone. His minister said in a letter that John shared that his decision to ride again amounted to nothing more than a big “fuck you” to everyone who cared about him through these past months. I asked John what his wife thought about a new motorcycle (she is an MSF instructor) and he told me that she said he would be one with the bike by the time he got home. John took that as an affirmative response.

In case you are wondering what motorcycle he is going to get and how he is going to manage it sans right leg it is a 1983 BMW R100 RS with a sidecar. A big ugly side car. But as John said to me one big enough to hold his wheelchair.

He had a friend make him something that will allow him to operate the foot brake with what's left of his leg. Looks like something a BMW rider would think of.

On Tuesday morning he is planning to begin his trip north with trips to Deals Gap and along the Blue Ridge Parkway. I would not be surprised if he changes his plans and makes the first ride another Iron Butt Ride. He’s done two now I think. Those BMW riders are, what’s the word, CRAZY, yeah, that’s it.

But again, the question: Would I ride again after a serious accident? I would like to think I would. I think riding occupies a place in my life that is important in a manner that probably only other riders might understand. I don’t dwell on this but I have been thinking of it lately. I don’t believe that accidents are inevitable or even likely. I believe a lot of risk can be managed to make riding safer.

Anyways, I wanted to share what I thought was a courageous decision on John’s part amidst a bad situation. But he seems to have found his rhythm again.

Join me in wishing him good luck and safe riding.

Unavoidable Daydreams

I picked up my Vespa GTS 250ie from Kissell Motorsports last Tuesday -- the rear brake needed to be bled.  Now when I pull the brake lever you know something is happening.  For any of you not familiar with riding keep in mind that the FRONT BRAKE is the one with 80 percent of the possible stopping power.  But the rear brake does add additional stopping power and there are times that you need to finesse special situations with that rear brake.  Gravel, snow, ice, and some other slippery surfaces come to mind.

Sometimes I just hate going into a motorcycle dealership.  So many things that get my brain all stirred up.  I have had my eye on Triumph motorcycles for years, decades in fact.  The two Triumph Scramblers are just another machine to clog up my thought processes...

3 Prints Project: March 22, 2009

Another Sunday morning meeting with my friend Gordon at Saints Cafe in State College to review the work from the previous week. It's nice to get together and talk with another photographer over a hot drink and a bagel.

I'm posting prints from the previous two weeks because I didn't get around to it last week. Not finding enough time to print beyond quick work prints and that's frustrating. For anyone who has worked seriously with gelatin silver materials you know how challenging it can be to achieve the nuanced values that make a print sing. Hopefully I will find a few extra hours this week to explore a bit further.

This week also found me returning to chemicals manufactured by Eastman Kodak -- Dektol for prints and D-76 for film. I've used those for over 35 years. Some things just don't need any improvement I guess.

So here are the pictures:

I've started walking in the morning before work and the camera comes along. It's quite dark at 6am but long exposures make it possible to create an image.

Another morning, a bit later as the sun crests the horizon.

Essa is a regular model in my photographs. She is not comfortable with the camera. She probably doesn't know what I am doing but she is wary of the camera.

As I often do with people I make photographs from behind. There is a lot of expression taking place from this angle.

Another stolen moment. Kim taking notes on something she's found in an architectural book.

Essa on a Saturday morning walk. At nearly 16 she keeps on going.

One of the advantages of hanging out with other photographers is they often make pictures of you. I know a lot of people don't like to look at themselves or feel it's vain, but I am fascinated at how I change. I could get lost in a self-portrait process if I let myself. Changes in body shape, receding hair, graying hair, creases and wrinkles. I have watched myself turn into my father in pictures. I see the natural process at work. The photograph below was taken by Gordon Harkins after one of our meetings at Saints.

That's me, the old guy. And not a Vespa in sight.

Postcard: Under the Stars

Desire and opportunity came together this evening for my first attempt at a starry, starry night photograph of my Vespa GTS 250ie. You need to click on the image for the larger version to really appreciate the stars.

It was sort of cozy sitting on the road in the dark balancing the camera on my wallet and a Gerbing glove to make this picture. It was almost pitch black when I made the picture, could barely see a thing. The Nikon D700 is pretty amazing at ISO 3200 making this kind of thing possible.

I'm looking forward to more serious nighttime explorations.

The Walk - Ride Ritual

Have you ever tried to convince yourself that riding is a physical activity akin to exercise? That the calories and fat from a big breakfast would be burned away by a few hours of serious riding? Maybe you believe in flying saucers too.

Age, reason and the medical community sometimes intervenes suggestions to “engage in a little more exercise”. For me it’s taken the form of an early morning walk right out of bed. I picture myself just like Rocky running on the streets of South Philadelphia. I don't drink raw eggs though.

A scooter or motorcycle exists outside the realm of normal. So do many of the riders. Those of us who choose to ride for pleasure, transportation, economy or other reasons are decidedly not among the mainstream that believe four-wheeled vehicles the safe and prudent choice. But being an outsider might make it easier to change. Maybe. Such are the thoughts drifting through my helmetless head as I pass by the Zion Lutheran Church.

Exercise isn’t as much fun as riding a Vespa. Or so I thought. With camera in tow as I move through town it is not unlike my riding. I see things, stop, look around and take pictures. Other than a lack of a convenient scooter to serve as model I’ve found the walks to be rewarding. I had to stop for a moment and ponder a store window display and ask why anyone would want a plaster dog when there are so many perfectly good real dogs around.

I passed through the stand of pines again this morning at the Military Museum and tried a picture at another angle. I’ll be back.

By the time I turned towards home it was beginning to get light. Still no rain but that could change suddenly.

The ride to work was dry under gray skies. I stopped a few times to make pictures much in the same manner as I did on my walk. It is a satisfying ritual that takes almost no time and just a little additional effort. I just wish they both counted as exercise.