The Prowl: Experiences with the Triumph Tiger

Snow’s falling again and I’m daydreaming about the road and the Triumph Tiger I was riding back in late November. The last motorcycle of the 2009 season with temperatures hovering in the mid 40s the memory of that motorcycle fresh. And tempting. The Tiger story’s been hibernating in my brain all winter. Now may be the right time to revisit the prowl. Thanks to Craig Kissell of Kissell Motorsports I have the opportunity to ride such fine motorcycles.

The Tiger is sleek, powerful, and tall – at least in terms of getting onto the bike. With the hard side cases attached I needed to make a real effort to mount up without scuffing things up with my boots. On dicey terrain I didn’t want to step up on the pegs either. Some flexibility work would definitely be in order before I could bound onto the back of the Triumph. Once onboard the sense of height was gone.

With excellent planning I always seem to ride before breakfast. As much as I wanted to head out into the Moshannon Forest my stomach was making a stronger argument as I headed over the mountain towards Unionville. It doesn’t take long to realize how sweet the Triumph Tiger is. Everything about it is smooth – the ride, the transmission, the brakes. And the torque it puts out allows it to pull hard at just about any speed and any gear. Definitely a plus for a tourist like me who likes to wander and not be overly concerned with the workings of the machine I am riding. Coming down the mountain into Unionville I was pleased at how well the Tiger holds the road in a hairpin turn. I’m no racer but I’m sure this bike could fly through the curves if I made a request.

Railroad tracks strike a wandering chord in me. Looking at them vanish in the distance has me wanting to explore. What’s out there, over the next hill, around the next corner? It’s a big part of what riding is for me. The Triumph would be happy to come along and take me anywhere I want to go.

The Tiger is a nice looking machine. Even in a rush to get breakfast I couldn’t help buy admire it. This bike could take me to a lot of breakfast places. I can see myself in the northern reaches of the Adirondacks, or south along the Blue Ridge Parkway. Or in front of a diner in Utah. Alas, if I only had the time.

The Unionville Café is a good, solid breakfast place. Any riders passing through the area will find a place to relax and eat. It’s always nice to stop when it’s cold outside. There are times when I get warm I don’t feel like climbing back on the motorcycle and facing the elements. This wasn’t one of them.

The road out of Unionville towards Moshannon State Park is a clean, winding road climbing up to the Allegheny Plateau. The Triumph Tiger could race to the top if good sense didn’t govern the throttle. I’ve been up this way many times on a variety of machines. I just never got there quite so fast before.

Central Pennsylvania is blessed with endless miles of roads that no one seems to use much. Concern for other motorist’s fade as I find myself more concerned with bear, deer, and dogs.

Local forest roads come in two varieties – paved and gravel. A path heading off the main road is hard to resist. While more aggressive tires might be a nice addition for some riding the stock tires on the Tiger were easily up to the choices I made. With so much natural gas drilling and timber cutting underway there are a lot of places to explore.

Riding along a road more packed dirt and sand than gravel I began to worry that the heavy, grey sky would begin to release rain. With little desire to return a mud covered bike to the dealership I returned to solid ground. But it was hard to resist the siren’s song of those long, winding, dirt roads.

Many of the smaller roads are uneven, the pavement heaved and twisted from the harsh winters. The suspension of the Tiger doesn’t blink.

There comes a time in almost every ride I make where I am not sure where I’m going. Riding down through some of the thickest growth of rhodendron I’ve ever seem I thought I might head towards Snow Shoe and a different kind of landscape. By this time I have been crisscrossing the region for most of the morning and was aware of how comfortable the seating position, seat, and handlebar position is on the Triumph Tiger.

A course correction and another little traveled road leads me to lost. The tank has plenty of fuel so I’m not too worried. I can’t remember exactly where this place was or whether I was crossing the West Branch of the Susquehanna River or Red Moshannon Creek. Lost is a gift in my book. And the reason why I’m not too keen on GPS. There ‘s something magical about being lost. And in the East, you seldom get that opportunity.

I eventually passed through Snow Shoe and headed off the plateau towards home. This little red and green building, some sort of remnant of the coal mining in the area just called out for a picture.

I had the option of trying the Tiger on Interstate 80 and see how it prowled along with the 18-wheelers. Passing on the freeway option I found more interesting roads that allowed me the chance to put the Triumph through some performance paces. Acceleration, check. Braking, check. Fun, check.

Tired, cold, and still not ready to take the Tiger home I make one last run along the rolling hills leading up to the Allegheny Plateau. Standing in the corn stubble and looking at the motorcycle and the valleys beyond I feel lucky that I am a rider. Being out here with the day fading and the temperature dropping is not what most riders strive for. But the spirit of adventure is something a lot of riders have in common. It feels good to stand up straight and take in the world. With this motorcycle I could take in a lot of places.

Until those rides come along I had to be content prowling home on the Triumph Tiger and hoping winter would not be too long or severe.

Embracing the Winter Night Ride

We've had a lot of snow this month and most of it is still piled around. The hemlock trees in the front yard aren't as full as they were when I made this picture last week but snow still hangs in the branches. Work, the dog, and the weather have taken a huge bite out of my riding opportunities and I feel the lack of road time. A nervous energy, an anticipation, a pacing grows in my spirit. This past Friday evening Kissell Motorsports was celebrating the addition of BMW motorcycles to their line of European machines and were unveiling the new BMW S 1000RR. What better opportunity to ride than to an event like this.

Photography was not much on my mind so forgive the incidental images. Attention was directed on the road, the night, and the challenges presented when snow, ice and subfreezing temperatures demand a different sort of rider attention. On the way home from work in the truck I paid close attention to the road surface in a manner that the average cager doesn't need to. Sporatic spots of ice, snow and salt ladden water don't mean the same thing when you are using four wheels.

I stopped on the way to Kissell's to take one more look at the road surface, guage the traffic, and give myself one last opportunity to turn around and go home. Standing under the streetlight I realized what I was doing, I could feel my senses sharpening, eyes scanning for riding dangers, thoughts working out handling plans and contingencies, I was moving into winter rider mode.

I understand the incredulous reactions of other riders to this activity. For those who are nervous about riding at night in good weather they are doubly opposed to it when there is a certainty of slippery stuff. Judged from a perspective of recreational riding this activity is simply nuts. And I have considered it so more than once or twice.

Riding in the winter is special and for me the payoff is in the complete focus it delivers. I suspect it is similar to what accomplished athletes find in their individual sports. Everything not important to the task at hand is stripped away and I find a purity of purpose and spirit. Is it worth the risk (and it does exist)? Each rider has to make their own decision. There is not right or wrong answer here. It's personal.

The Vespa GTS 250ie was the only two wheeled vehicle outside the doors of Kissell Motorsports. Their parking lot still had some big patches of smooth ice. Not the sort of surface you want to come flying into. Definitely the kind of obstacle that a rider must plan for when riding at night in the winter.

Even when all the snow is gone and the roads are dry there are many reasons why you might encounter ice. There always seems to be someone washing their car in the winter who drives off leaving nice icey tire tracks on the road. And now, with so much snow still around I encountered several instances of show piles on the road courtesy of drivers who don't clear their vehicles of snow before leaving home.

At night I have to make a lot of adjustments. Apologies to everyone else on the road. I leave my high beam on. I just need to see the road ahead. Curiously no one ever flashes me. Maybe it is not as bright as I think it is. And the scanning process that takes place during the day is more furious at night. And I anticipate potential problems and make use of lane adjustments, speed and stopping more often. The ride is not about moving from point A to point B as smoothly and quickly as possible. It is about being as careful, prudent and safe as possible. A very different ride.

Events were already underway when I arrived. After grabbing a hot dog I made my way around to a vantage point where I could see the BMW S1000 RR when it would be revealed. A lot of people turned out to see the new line of motorcycles. With the Canon G9 in one hand and a hot dog in the other I waited.

Moments after the box was removed and before people queued up to take a closer look and sit on the bike. I'm amazed at the sophistication of the motorcycles today. The two-stroke dirt bike I road in the 1960s seems like a toy in comparision. A junky toy.

There were new BMWs everywhere in a maze of machinery. I made mental notes of the ones I would fantasize about.

The BMW R1200 GS bikes were very nice. I can see myself with one of those. I've sent away for plans for a new garage.

Dan Leri owns, I think, a BMW RT1200. He's sitting here trying to decide which bike to buy his wife for Valentine's Day. I think that's what he was doing.

My friend Paul Ruby was standing in the corner playing with his iPhone. He's addicted and in search of a 12-step group. The place where people say "I'm powerless over my iPhone and my life has become unmanageable". Paul has a BMW X Moto 800(?). All I know is it seems to be the tallest motorcycle I have ever ridden.

I plan to return to look the new motorcycles over more carefully. When my mind isn't preoccupied with the ride home. The obstacles, the risks. The smart man would return by the same safe route found earlier in the evening right?

It's good to know I'm smart some of the time.

Caged Regrets

Friday afternoon on my way to retrieve Junior from Sporty Dog Daycare I see a scooter pass by.


The snow was just beginning to fall and for a moment I regretted not being on the Vespa.


With a face like this waiting the regrets melt. And the snow was piling up fast. I can ride another day..

-- Posted from my iPhone

A Lesson from a Dog (and Scooter)

Junior. Patiently waiting for me to take his picture with my iPhone. Later, at home, I process the image further in the same device with PhotoForge. It reflects the soft and blurred vision experienced shortly after leaving bed, before breakfast, before shower, before really being ready to be in the world.

Patience is his lesson for me. An insistence that I examine my own measure of it. Something I find less of than I would have guessed. I've read a dog appears in your life when there is something for you to learn. I'm convinced it's true. His simple requirements demand little more than my time but his lessons are tough. He forces me to make choices and they bring me face to face with my lack of patience. The lessons are not dissimilar from those taught by the Vespa.

New Year's Day 2010. Morning. A quiet ride through the snowy countryside not far from home. Roads mostly clear with only patches of slippery surfaces. Unexpected slick spots require patience. To make choices. The road makes demands in the same manor Junior does. Can you accept this now?

I'm long past the simple lessons of patience while riding -- those experiences with drivers on autopilot who raise my risk, of bullying horns at a traffic light when I hesitate a moment too long before moving. But alone, left to my own plans and schemes, there lies the challenge today. The Vespa instructs me and so does Junior.

I feel fortunate for two such demanding teachers.

Grey Riding

I was struck how colorless the world can be during my ride to work. Makes sense how those shades of grey can pile on to your brain in winter. A glimpse of blue sky and sunshine is cause for celebration. The grey on the ground reeks havoc on the metal and machinery and I'm sure it was responsible for the failure of my rear brakes. All that salt silently chewing and gnawing as those fine machine parts. Perhaps I should wash the Vespa once in a while. I missed the blue moon at the end of December.

It was nice to ride without snow on the road. The only other two-wheeled vehicle in the parking lot was a colleague's Yamaha Vino. He got the good space.

Falling Off the Grid

This morning, like every morning for the past few months Junior and I go for a walk. I made the pictures in this grid before breakfast today. Before going further I need to acknowledge Texan photographer Matt Nager for the inspiration in making these little story grids using the iPhone. It takes advantage of the strengths and weaknesses of the iPhone camera.

No posts here since the end of December. Still struggling to find balance between my competing responsibilities and interests. When push comes to shove the Vespa can wait. Junior can't. All those riding hours have transformed into dog hours. Still, I have been riding and writing. I just can't seem to pull the trigger to post. I've developed a manifesto length piece that would rival the postings of some unnamed fellow riding bloggers. It needs work. And it needs to be cut into pieces. So I just started from scratch this evening with this. A note from the sticks that life goes on.

Did ride in the rain this morning to meet my friend Gordon at the Pump Station. And have been on the Vespa a few times in the past couple weeks. Have lots of pictures to go through. And a post to complete reviewing a 2010 Triumph Tiger I had for a few days.

So not to worry. I will wade through the work and responsibilities and be posting more frequently. I'm working hard to get Junior to transcribe my thoughts. Or at least hold still while I take pictures.

Would it be wrong to have him run alongside the Vespa too? *grin*

The Big Empty

Living in a college town means that several times a year one gets to experience the Big Empty. The ghost time feeling left in the wake of the departure of 40,000 souls. Sunday evening I had to run a few errands and took advantage of almost dry roads and mid 30s temperatures. Seeing steam escaping from a building vent was enough to have me pose the Vespa for a portrait with the lone person walking down Calder Alley. I've made many pictures in this alley over the years and I continue to be drawn to it.

Darkness descended when it was time to ride home and the temperature had dropped below freezing. Night always presents additional challenges for a rider and in freezing weather allowances always have to be made for stray water turned to ice. Old Main, the main administration building at Penn State, glowed in the distance as I got ready to go. One last loop through town before heading home.

The center of business life in State College is the stretch of Allen Street between College and Beaver Avenues. There are always cars here in the evening because of the bars and restaurants in this part of town.

Junior, now dubbed the Hammer of Sweetness by our youngest daughter Aleta, joined me in town the next morning for a walk and a bit of dog socialization. Belgian Sheepdogs are wary, alert and do not warm to strangers quickly. Junior and I have been working diligently to familiarize him with strangers and situations in town. He has made a dramatic shift from warning me of every individual on the planet to now he walks casually among people on the street without concern. He takes his cue from me and senses when things are ok. His breed does not warm to people quickly but with my ok he now allows people to greet him without shying away. And once he accepts the gesture he then wants to sit in their lap. He's a good dog.

After returning Junior home for breakfast I had to get back to town and meet my friend Paul at Saints Cafe. Another local place to which I am drawn over and over again. Paul wanted to go for a ride but snow was falling outside and I felt it better to wait for better weather. As I looked out the window at the street I realized I had ridden in far worse and I could have ridden into town if I desired. I didn't. Call me mature.

In an attempt to bring some riding energy to the table Paul showed me the brake drum he ordered for his 1964 Vespa GL. It had arrived from Italy and he was excited about the box. I was reminded (again) how little I care for all things mechanical. It's approaching a pathology.

Paul is a photographer and brought along a box of prints for me to look at. I am always impressed with the work he does. His attention has wandered in different directions in the past few years and he is not (pardon the pun) focused on photography like he once was. Still, his work is strong. He has a series of portraits made over many years of his daughter Allison. He used to shoot them with an 8x10 view camera but now more and more is done with a 35mm or digital camera. I would invoke the term progress but he still has that damn 1964 Vespa...

Season's Greetings from the Sticks

It's Christmas Eve and time for me to extend best wishes for Christmas, the holiday season and the coming new year. At 2am this morning I was out in the driveway fighting with Christmas lights, camera and a bad idea to make a picture that would represent my feelings of riding and the holiday season. For the past couple years the safe bet was a picture of the Vespa hauling home the tree but Kim and I made an impulse buy one evening a few weeks ago at a local Christmas tree vendor. So no tree to haul on the scooter. For those of you who just have to see the tree on the back of the Vespa check the bottom of this post for one of the classic pictures.

The holidays always seem to become hectic despite the best planning. Providence intervened this year to bring a bit of needed solitude to the house in the form of an impending ice storm. We canceled our traditional Christmas Eve party this year when nearly everyone who planned to attend was now departing town early to avoid the weather on Christmas Day. So I can sit here now and type and reflect on the season and it's meaning. Junior is laying at my feet gnawing on a marrow bone while Kim sits in the living room illuminated by the Christmas tree. Life is good and there is much to be grateful for.

After giving up trying to produce the picture in my head for my holiday greeting I put the lights, tripod and camera away. Could not seem to push the Vespa back into the garage though and decided to go for a ride. The night sky was clear and the temperature was a relatively comfortable 20F. Riding at night always is nice especially when there is snow on the ground and Christmas lights on. Though not so many as the clock ticks near 3am. In Boalsburg there were lights glowing on Main Street and I took a little time to wander around and shoot a few pictures. While it seemed nostalgic to me I'm now sure how a passing police cruiser would view me. Faith in the power of the Christmas spirit kept me going.

I hope these words find each of you with a quiet heart and a smile on your lips. For a day the cares of the world can slip away and the power of the season can renew us. For any of you who receive a new scooter or motorcycle, well, I don't want to hear about it......*grin*

All the best for a Merry Christmas and bright holiday season!

Oh, one of the classic Vespa Christmas tree pictures.

Cold Weather Insanity

I was having breakfast at the Corner Room (best breakfast in town in my opinion) in State College, Pennsylvania this morning with my friend Howard when I saw a young man go by on a scooter. A Honda Metropolitan I think. As I watched my bacon affected brain slowly began to turn and I grabbed my iPhone to make a picture as he passed. As I touched the shutter release I thought, "This guy is insane."

I have done my share of cold weather riding but I am positively a wuss in comparison to this fellow. It's 15 degrees Fahrenheit outside and he has almost not protection. Nothing on his head but a stylish cap. No windproof riding jacket. And most startling to me -- no gloves. Bare hands out in the wind.

After he went by I felt ashamed that I didn't ride to work today. My excuse -- I would have too much gear on to deal with in the Corner Room. Oh well, one man insane and the next a wussy...

Giving Thanks

If "thank you" is the only prayer you say, that will be enough.--Meister Eckhart

With Junior sleeping at my feet, the house quiet and no requirement to go to work today it’s easy to recall all the things I have to be thankful for. On those days not dedicated to giving thanks I find similar quiet moments while riding – small escapes from the chaos and noise that can fill the days when chasing chores and job and the responsibilities of living.

Riding the Vespa on winding roads past small, tree lined streams provides an opening to stop and release mental burdens and grasp the simple elegance of sight, sound and smell. I am often reminded of how fortunate I am to have what I have and do what I do.

These past weeks circumstance has kept me from riding as much as I would have liked. Writing, photography and riding have been supplanted with dog walks and training, new responsibilities at work, and a shrinking of daylight has led to fewer opportunities to ride forth into the landscape. When I finally did have a chance to take the Vespa for a ride I found myself stopping often and just standing along the road, taking in the world and saying to myself, “thank you”.

After years of dabbling in various forms of meditation and escape I would not have believed a scooter would be able to open the doors of perception that my Vespa has accomplished. In the most stressful and complicated moments it remains a powerful antidote and requires only moments to straighten out my head. Riding is a gift. The Vespa is the delivery vehicle.

I’ve been able to ride to work for most of the past week. Small detours in the commuting route seem inevitable, something I never do in the truck. Whatever I surrender in terms of creature comfort on the Vespa is repaid tenfold in other ways. I never find myself walking into my office saying “I wish I had driven the truck today”. Not even on the coldest days.

I live miles away to the right of the picture. I work miles away to the left. Standing in the open I can see how my life unfolds in a back and forth manner, commuting to and from home to work and back again. I’m not sure why but it is important for me to see this. It is invisible in the truck. There are only filtered views from the cage.

To all of you today -- I hope you find the time to consider your own reasons to give thanks.

No More iPhone Pictures

My daughter Hannah says my iPhone pix are not so good. I'm not ready to abandon it yet.


Gordon patiently modeled for yet another camera picture.

I am working on a real post with real pictures for all the purists...

-- Posted from my iPhone

iPhone Vespa: 3 Prints Project

I have a lot of film to process. Chemicals in the darkroom have gone bad and need to be remixed. But still I make sluggish progress. The Vespa makes it to Saint's Cafe on another crisp Sunday morning to bemoan my indolence with Gordon.



Magic tea with my everything bagel surely will re-energize my creative world.

Shooting with the iPhone is a bit liberating---I don't care about much photographically with it. It's like being a kid again. A kid with a Vespa...

-- Posted from my iPhone