Taking Home a BMW F 650 GS

The time has arrived to check out one of the new BMW motorcycles at Kissell Motorsports. I was going to wait until the weather was a bit warmer but when Craig Kissell send an email asking when I was going to take a GS for a ride what could I do? So I am starting with a BMW F 650 GS. This one is brand new. Zero miles on the odometer. I get nervous being the first one to take something out on the road. But who am I to complain? A quick check of the bike and the controls revealed a big difference from the usual tools on my Vespa. This bike has ABS brakes, heated grips, built in port for electrics, and a lot more.

I didn't really have time for any riding today. Just a less than direct ride home from work with a few stops to check out the motorcycle. The turn signals took a couple of practice runs to reprogram my brain from the one button all function switch on the Vespa to the three button self canceling function of the BMW. A smarter person could make the adjustment on the road. I had to pull over and look at the controls for everything to make sense. A little side trip up a gravel road did the trick. This motorcycle is smooth, quiet, and seems to pull no matter what speed I'm traveling or what gear I'm in. My kind of performance.

Home appeared too quickly. I stopped the motorcycle at the end of the driveway being cautious with this shiny new machine. On the Vespa I would have zipped right between our cars and on to the garage.

I'm planning an early departure tomorrow despite the weather forecast calling for 20F at daybreak. And since my Gerbing electric gloves have the wrong connector I won't be able to plug them in. So I will have a chance to try out heated grips. And if all else fails I can cozy up to the big shiny muffler.

I'm excited. I can tell. For the next few days I am a BMW rider.

My Other Life

When not riding my Vespa or some cool new motorcycle (which seems to be most of the time) I spend my time as editor of Penn State Ag Science Magazine. We've just completed a redesign and the new magazine is in the mail. And I'll reveal a little secret here. While reviewing pictures made by a photographer in South Africa for an upcoming article I saw a picture of the story subject riding his Kawasaki KLR down a dirt road. You know I am going to try and figure out how to get that picture in the magazine. Unless a Vespa shows up somewhere.

If you are interested check out the Penn State Ag Science Web site. You can see the content, subscribe to the magazine blog, or to the print edition of the magazine.

As far as Scooter in the Sticks goes -- looks like I will be taking a new BMW GS of some sort home on Friday for some test riding. Always something to look forward to!

A Plain Ride to Work

I could not resist stopping to talk with this horse. I figured he might be related to my Belgian Sheepdog Junior being a Belgian draft horse. Pauses like this during the morning ride to work are sort of, well, therapeutic. Calms my squirming brain before sitting down to a day's work. When I first stopped this horse galloped off, undoubtedly frightened by the mighty roar of the Vespa. It did not take long for his curiosity to get the best of him though.

The chilly 39F morning ride was replaced by a near 60F ride home. Warm enough that I found myself engaged in my usual Family Circus style circuitous route home weaving through every lane and field I could find. I had forgotten the little thrill I get just poking along and seeing what the snow had hidden for so long.

I don't ride in groups and seldom ride with anyone at all. Looking at this scene reminded me of what I find most powerful in my little adventures -- solitude, escape, and a feeling of being alive and walking on the earth.

Just another plain ride to work.

Bad Blogger

It's been almost a month since my last post. By even the most liberal and rationalizing definition I'm a bad blogger. Looking through my Blogger dashboard I see a half dozen drafts of posts I've started but not finished. One show a picture of Junior where the grass is still green. I've no shortage of topics, ideas, or experiences. I just can't find the damn time. And I keep telling myself I have to make time.

Winter is always a challenge for riders, some more than others, and certainly for me. Snow, cold, short days, they just pile up into a mental mindset that makes it difficult to roll the Vespa out of the garage on good days. The above picture was made a couple weeks ago on one of my morning walks with Junior. Thankfully the snow is gone now. Replaced with rain. But not really relevant to being a bad blogger.

Blogging takes time and of late it's been in short supply. The little man has taken much time in training and exercise -- time I used to spend riding and writing. It's worth it though. Right now we're practicing a "Meet the Mayor" exercise.

A pause along the road during a lunchtime ride. Not a common occurrence of late. Still, when it does happen, it usually performs some spiritual magic. I should make more time to ride, especially outside of riding to work. Another should.

A new responsibility at work. The main reason I've become a bad blogger. About a year ago I was tapped to lead a redesign of our college's magazine and have become the new managing editor. My production assistant is holding up one of the mock-up copies from a few weeks ago. The redesign process was far more complicated than I ever imagined and the responsibilities of producing a magazine have pushed the limits of my skill. Like riding in snow.

I've not ridden nearly as often this winter as in the past few winters. Aside from the time constraints I just have not felt like assuming the risk. Nothing to prove, nothing to gain. I still venture out on a semi-routine basis and brave sub-freezing temperatures. A stop on the way home from work at a local park I find more ice on the ground than I expected. But I have not found myself on snow covered roads very often. And that's fine. And I have time for other things.

If there is a driving desire it's to use the camera more than ride the scooter. And that desire has led me back to shooting film and working in the darkroom. Being immersed in digital technology at work leaves little appetite in my free time to do more of it then. It's been nice to process film in D76 and make prints in a tray of Dektol.

The Vespa and camera have reignited work on the 3 Prints Project. Slowly I am returning to that ritual of shooting and printing. Meeting every Sunday morning at Saint's Cafe to look at work is as quietly pleasant as I could ever hope for. The Vespa seldom has trouble getting a space in the free motorcycle parking area.

As much as I enjoy meeting with my friend Gordon and talking photography I really find the drama and stories at a cafe a goldmine for eavesdropping and finding stories to write about. I stood outside the window before leaving a few Sunday's ago and made this picture. Each person like an actor on a stage.

Looking over my bagel towards the young couple at the next table I could tell it was their first time together. Maybe a first date. Their attention and focus on each other was amazing. With an ability like that to focus their attention so keenly they would make good riders. Or photographers.

I wanted to walk over and see what was holding this man's attention. He seldom looked away from his reading even when drinking or eating. I think about what holds my attention that way. It's been a long time since I've read a comic book.

Cafe's are great places for a photographer. It's warm. There's food. And no one seems to pay attention to someone with a camera. I probably would think twice at a Starbuck's in California is someone was carrying a firearm. Or maybe it would just be a different sort of photograph.

It's always a pleasure to see what your photographic friends decide to share. Gordon showed up with this portrait he made of me at the cafe and a picture of the Vespa 300 I was riding awhile back.

Kim making pictures in the car last fall on a trip to Altoona. Photography plays a role in both our lives. For me as a way to pay the rent and for her as an extension of her art work. She never fails to amaze me with her ability to see the world around her. I tend to dismiss or overlook situations that she is able to mine gold. She's preparing for a show right now and I have been helping edit her pictures. Like many artists she can be quite critical of her work. I sit and look at her prints and say to myself, "I wish I shot that". I'm a craftsman. She's an artist. That's why she was able to come up with "Scooter in the Sticks" as the name of this blog all those years ago.

Anyways, that's the not so quick update. Full speed ahead!

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.