VIDEO: Flying Like a Bird (not on a Vespa)

My friend Dan Leri sent a link to this video this morning asking if my friend Paul Ruby had one of these. I replied he has two. Seriously though, the short flight recorded in this video is nothing short of an amazing achievement. Every now and again I need to be reminded of the summits people attempt. For one person a ride on a Vespa in cold weather, for another soaring like a bird over the Grand Canyon.

Click the full screen button on the lower right.  It's an HD video and more powerful at a larger size.

Sam Abell, Photographer, on Patience, Passion and Slowing Down

Sam Abell is a photographer who I have admired for a long time. The passion he brings to assignments and stories is rare in a world bent on speed and media lifespans measure in hours or days. Listening to him talk about making photographs and spending more than a year to make one photograph had me wondering if I had the patience or commitment to pursue anything that way.

At the end of the video he reveals the photo and a story that happens afterwards.  I won't reveal the ending but as he describes the man in the plane thumbing through the magazine I know that guy.  Me.

I need to slow down.

VIDEO: Off-Road Riding with the BMW GS

I came across this video on Twitter and thought it did a good job reflecting what off the pavement riding is like with those big BMW GS and GS Adventure bikes. And a smattering of the smaller BMW dual sport bikes like the F800 GS.

I remember riding a 1970 Kawasaki dirt bike in far more serious terrain and places that I would never attempt with one of the big BMWs. Even so, this video makes riding off the pavement look great.

VIDEO: A Night Ride

Lossa Engineering's short film "Solus" from Jay Lossa on Vimeo.

Ran across a video of a motorcycle ride reflecting how I feel on the back of the Vespa when I venture out into the night.  As a full moon approaches and the Perseids meteor shower nears its peak I think it's time for some rides in the darkness.

Found this video on the Motogirona blog.

Riding a Vespa in the Rain

Ride long enough and you’ll eventually find yourself on the road, drenched and dreaming of home. Ride longer and you may find yourself dreaming of being drenched. This morning I rode away from the dry comfort of home into uncertain weather, a welcome break from endless days of sunshine and heat. The gray, dim morning-- a reminder of cooler days ahead.

The forecast predicted scattered showers, at times heavy, for most of the morning. Knowing I would not be riding far I left the raingear in the garage and opted for the more casual comfort of once water resistant riding jacket and pants. And if things really got bad I could breakout the waterproof rain jacket stored in the top case. In six years I have used it twice.

I have a few rules when riding in the rain.

The first is to become one with the road surface so I don’t become one with the road surface in a physical sense.
Every rain is different and so is the character of the pavement. With so little rain in the past couple months there is a lot of stuff on the road that gets slippery when mixed with water. A few stops to walk on the road, test the friction with my boots, I can get a sense of what to expect in terms of traction. It’s not perfect but does provide clues to how to behave.

Another rule is to slow down.
I’ve talked to more than a few riders who search for tires who offer perfect performance on wet pavement, preferring a technological fix for the weather rather than make mindful adjustments themselves. My personal belief is that no tire available will allow you to ride on wet roads like you do on dry ones. You just need to slow down, replace the desire to lean hard and power out of turns with one built around keeping the rubber side down. 

Visibility – my own and my appearance to others.
I’ll stay on the road until the torrents interfere with my ability to see the road ahead. If visibility drops below a hundred yards or so I pull over and wait. And if I feel things are too hectic, or traffic too congested to place myself in a visible position, I’ll pull over and wait for conditions to improve.

The last rule I have is comfort.
I’ll ride wet but not cold. The moment I feel myself begin to focus on my body, the effect the weather is having on me, it’s time to stop and regroup. And I’ll stop as often as I need to. One of the advantages of riding alone—no one’s ego is in play dragging others on beyond their limits.

Anyways, I wasn’t going far. Breakfast was first on the agenda followed by finishing a post titled, Heat, Courage and the Jack Riepe Show. The breakfast part went without a hitch but the writing was delayed.

Superman won out over Riepe. I don’t often see comic books but when I do all bets are off. Someone left a nice one at Café Lemont that I could not pass up. It’s nice to sit with a comic book when a hard rain falls outside.

Just a slight drizzle was falling as I left Lemont on a looping ride around town. A short cut across some of Penn State’s pastureland always provides some amazing views of Mt. Nittany and the valley. Rain and mist make things magical.

 Watching the clouds pass, darkness in the distance, I wonder what brings me out on days that most riders choose to avoid. There was a time when I needed to prove something to myself. But now, I’m looking for something else. Maybe a more intense experience. A friend once suggested I’m a minor adrenaline junkie but my careful, deliberate approach tends to rule that out. Standing here, noticing all the details, I feel alive and on the earth. Maybe it’s as simple as that.

The rain begins to fall hard on the way home. Water is pooled on my lap where the riding jacket forms a basin. Pelting water droplets feel like hundreds of little bee stings on my chest at 45mph. The jacket and pants are soaked through and water is running down my back. When I stop to make this picture I can barely see the LCD screen. Rain soaks the camera and I leave it on when I put it under the seat so the water on the lens barrel doesn’t migrate to the inside.

Almost home I stop for one last picture, a reminder of rain and light and wet rides. The risk and discomfort are far exceeded by the rewards of the ride.

Relaxation and a Morning Vespa Ride

I'm that dog, quiet, aware, and letting the day wash over me.  Except I don't have to lay on the concrete.  And I can enjoy a breakfast sandwich and juice at the local Starbucks.  I don't know this dog, he doesn't know me, but we passed time quietly this morning in the same space.  Not sure how he arrived but I was delivered on a Vespa.

The morning was unplanned and as opportunities presented themselves the Vespa responded.  Farm lanes often lead to interesting landscapes, opportunities to observe and wonder.

I've photographed this tree many times over the past 35 years -- marking time and change.  Someday I made walk up to it and introduce myself.

The morning started as usual with Junior and I greeting the day.  He's learned that the scooter signals my departure and a guilt driven presentation of a Milkbone.  He seems satisfied with the arrangement.

State College is quiet on Sunday morning.  No other motorcycles to deal with and traffic is light.  Short trips into town, trips I have been making for decades still intrigue me.  There is always something to look at.  I still love the way things glow early on a sunny day.

Back on the road, a stop to dream about travel and riding and destinations too far.  For today I'm happy with the short ride through the central Pennsylvania landscape.  I have plans for the garden today so the Vespa can wait for another time.

One last stop at the Pump Station in Boalsburg before heading home.  A cup of tea and a cinnamon roll and some time to write in my journal.  This is what I do when I take short rides on the Vespa.  I've done the same on a motorcycle but for some unexplained reason a four-wheeled vehicle drains any desire to relax and reflect.  It's just a tool to get somewhere I guess.  Not sure why and don't really care.  

I'm just glad I have a Vespa.

Riding, Choices and Getting Things Done

Every action has a price. Most of the time the price is small and easy to overlook. At times chance and providence provide enough light to see the bigger costs. Riding, at it’s best, presents me an opportunity to see the world free of the chaos and illusion I create or find myself wading neck deep. On the road, even on a morning ride to work, the wind and the sound of the road can strip away the noise in my head and leave me breathless at the miracle of being alive.

Standing before Mount Nittany, watching the horses graze, tails slapping at the morning flies, watching the warm light lick across the tall corn I’m aware of how fleeting all this is. Behind me the morning commuter traffic roars by on the expressway with cars and trucks bent on getting things done.

Getting Things Done. A war cry in the business world and a phrase of near cult status among aficionados of achievement, success and Stephen Coveyites. I’ve pursued some form of this myself as I struggle to make better and more efficient use of my time and energy at work.

Just a couple weeks ago while riding into work on a particularly quiet, empty morning I could not help but notice how my mind raced around a problem at work, lighting for an instant on a solution before darting to another much as a hummingbird moves from flower to flower.

The idea of getting things done is seductive and the tools to plug in, connect and stay engaged are many. And behold, late in the evening last week, while barely able to keep my eyes open I found myself sitting on the bed, iPhone in hand, answering email, checking my calendar, adding notes to a Google Doc, and Tweeting a picture of my Vespa. I was getting things done. I was also torturing myself in ways I could not fully appreciate.

Nothing like a choppy, impatient brain to reek havoc on one’s ability to focus on complex problems, write, or make sense of chaos. With the iPhone sitting on my desk, bristling with data and information just an arms length away, I knew it had to go.

And so it has as I upgraded to a feature phone that is, well, a phone. And it can receive text messages or create them with mind numbing slowness that only a numeric keypad can engender. No more Camera+ or TweetDeck. No more checking email with addictive frequency or browsing the web at ever spare moment. I’ve taken back my brain so I can use for the things that I am valued for and not apply it to a kind of simulated feeling of accomplishment that can come from being plugged into an endless supply of data and information.

The result has seen the chaos in my head evaporate. And that which does appear is the result of real problems rather than artificially created through the misuse of a device promising convenience but delivering to me something different.
On the road I am careful of my choices as a rider. Seems only right to apply that to the rest of my life.

And perhaps there is a subconscious recognition of the danger of too much information when I recently responded to the familiar inquiry of “If you were going to buy a motorcycle today which one would you get?” with the words “Triumph Scrambler.”

A simple, functional machine that makes my Vespa seem overloaded with data outputs. No tachometer, fuel gauge, or much of anything.  I've been riding one recently and have fallen in love.  I suppose it's no coincidence that the bike is a model of simplicity.

I know the iPhone and other devices of convenience aren’t a problem for everyone but for me, they hobble my abilities to think, write, photograph or wrap my head around large, complex problems. The price of ownership and use is just too high.

Later today I will purchase a paper calendar to keep in my pocket.

Togetherness

Kim last night after we returned from our first long ride together on the Vespa.  I never understood the attraction of riding two up until we were on the road, moving through the late evening light, feeling her body against me, my hand reaching down to touch her leg, her voice drifting forward from the ether, her hands on my waist.

I hate riding with a passenger.  Another preconceived notion destroyed.

She wore my bumblebee jacket, her new Nolan helmet and fancy Held gloves.  A heavy storm passed earlier sweeping away the heat and leaving us a dimming landscape dressed in low hanging fog, muted color, and a sense of riding through Brigadoon.

In the dark, under the glow of the garage door light, I could see the smile on her face, the wind blown transformation that makes riding magic.  Later she suggested we ride tomorrow.

For a long time I hoped Kim would crave a scooter of her own.  Now, after riding together, I'm not so sure...

Heat the Lazy Rider (Blogger) Does Make

Riding the past two weeks has been brutal. Words like fry, broil, bake, roast and hell come to mind.  Summer is my riding off-season especially when the temperature exceeds 80F.  I can't remember the last time I felt comfortable riding. Or walking for that matter.  Junior heads for the creek when we go for a walk and I don't feel like doing much at all. It's reflected in the infrequency of posts.

Heading into town last week at 7pm and the world feels like a blast furnace. Everything is fading to brown at the Pennsylvania Military Museum where the People's Choice Arts Festival had concluded a few days earlier. 

 

Junior and I spent some time this morning at Starbucks before the world started to fry. When his tongue began to drag on the ground it was time to leave.

I had great plans to finish a post today about the BMW Rally in Bloomsburg but chose to work in the garden and some time on the couch instead.

It's just too damn hot to ride, write or fiddle with a computer.

Bring on the snow.

From the BMW International Rally to a Pig Roast

On Friday, July 22, from 4pm until 7pm, Kissell Motorsports is hosting a pig roast at their State College dealership. Rumor has it they’ll also be offering ice cream from the Penn State Creamery. They’re holding the event during the BMW International Rally and invite riders who might like to get away from the crowds for a while, take a nice ride, and have some good grub. Free.

That’s where I come in. A few weeks ago Craig Kissell and I were talking about different ways to get from Bloomsburg to State College and one of us suggested the idea of sharing a route for riders that would take them through some beautiful countryside, get them to State College in a reasonable amount of time, and not be so difficult as to require close attention, a GPS, and a big dose of luck.

The ride.

I’m going to work backwards and start with the ride back to Bloomsburg. Since it will be late in the day a direct, still scenic route seems in order – US 322 (Expressway) east to PA 45 east (Centre Hall/Boalsburg exit). Take PA 45 through Lewisburg, on to Danville, and from there just 15 miles back to Bloomsburg. It’s simple, 79 miles, but also a beautiful ride. I made the ride early on a Saturday morning on a nice BMW motorcycle. Just to get into the rally state of mind.

Just east of Centre Hall the road enters a stretch of rolling hills and passes through farmland and small towns. The traffic is almost non-existent early on weekends but during the week can be steady and brisk. Passing by Spring Mills, through Millheim (you make want to check out the Elk Creek Café), past Aaronsburg and on towards Woodward the road offers a range of views.

I have a disproportionate number of images that are bisected by strong vertical lines – telephone poles, trees, posts and lines of a sundry origin. And one more.

As you leave Aaronsburg the occurrence of Amish vehicles increases and you should keep an eye out. Most Amish buggy drivers are familiar with the road and vehicles but from time to time a young driver or young horse shy away from motor vehicles. I always give them a wide berth to save everyone grief.

This trip I’m riding a 2011 BMW F650 GS. It’s one of my favorites, on my list of possible motorcycles I would like to own, and probably the most utilitarian machine in the lineup for the kind of riding I do or will conceivably do in the near to distant future. Finding my Vespa more than adequate in the power department for 99 percent of riding I do the BMW has plenty of power for any situation I will ever find myself in.

Someday.

The road cuts through Bald Eagle State Forest and past some nice options for gravel and dirt if you have the time. With a belly full of roast pork this may not be the time.

Leaving the forest the road cuts across an expansive agricultural valley, through Hartleton (SPEED TRAP—GO SLOW), Mifflinburg and on to Lewisburg.

Lewisburg is situated along the West Branch of the Susquehanna River and is a quiet college town, home to Bucknell University. If you are out and about during the week the Lewisburg Hotel is a great place for lunch or dinner. Can’t remember if they serve breakfast

After crossing the river the road stretches on to Bloomsburg just 24 miles away. Find PA 54 into Danville and then US 11 to Bloomsburg.  You can't miss the fairgrounds where the BMW Rally is being held.

All in all not a bad ride with a belly full of pork-- 79 miles from State College to Bloomsburg.

 
Now, the more interesting ride to State College. Just outside the gates of the Bloomsburg Fair Grounds, going west about a half-mile take PA 42 north to Buckhorn. Buckhorn is one of those commercial hubs that spring into existence at exits along Interstate 80. I sat here to take a long drink of water before beginning what would be a 100-mile ride to Kissell Motorsports. Craig chose the route. The one I suggested about take about 5 hours and cover nearly 200 miles. But it would take a rider through some of the best riding territory in the state.

The 100-mile path is a great ride though.

At Buckhorn you’ll find PA 44 going north. That’s your road for the next 45 miles as it winds through woods and farmlands, towns and villages. It’s not unlike the landscape on the ride to Bloomsburg, at least until you begin climbing into the mountains.

Rain threatened all day with a few times requiring me to wipe the water from my visor. I left unprepared and was glad I didn’t get drenched. Riding past Jerseytown and Watsontown and on towards the Susquehanna River finds some long rolling stretches of highway. Watch out for horse apples and Amish buggies, both in abundance.

By the time I crossed the river the sun was out and I was muttering about the heat and wishing I had worn my summer riding jacket.

The fragrance of fresh cut hay, manure and the melodies of cows greet you as you pass through Allenwood towards Elimsport.  Allenwood is home to the Federal Penitentiary that was home to some of the Watergate Burglars.  Elimsport has a decidely Amish feel to it.

Remember, you’re still on PA 44. For those of you who use GPS you can bleep past all the road identifications.

As you enter the Tiadagton State Forest the road climbs clickly up the mountain. The skies also darkened just as fast and I watched the temperature drop nearly 10 degrees.

At the summit of White Deer Ridge the view is lovely and I try to image the winding roads ahead. The BMW F650 GS eats this kind of pavement up. By this time I’m already testing arguments to purchase one in my head, weighing possible responses from my wife, and cursing the fact that we just purchased two cars.

Those of you who stop a lot might be more familiar with the frequency of offers of help. I can’t remember how many times I’ve been making a picture and someone stops to see if I need help. It’s nice and this day was no different. A rider pulled up and asked the routine question and added that he lived just down the road, had a fully equipped garage, and was welcome to use it if needed. He was riding a Honda so he probably didn’t realize a BMW never needs attention along the road.

 
Just past Oval, Pennsylvania you turn onto PA 880 bound towards Rebersburg. More winding, narrow roads through more forest and farmland. And more Amish buggies. Lots to see and look out for.

 
At Rebersburg turn right onto PA 192 and race towards Centre Hall on a smooth road through the middle of farmlands and the gateway to the Kissell Motorsports Pig Roast.

At the light in Centre Hall turn left, go two miles to the next light and turn right onto PA 45 West and ride like the wind to the US 322 Expressway. Jump on the four lane, go about eight miles to the Valley Vista Drive exit and you will be able to smell the pork roasting.

Turn left at the intersection and about a half mile ahead you’ll see Kissell Motorsports on the left. Look for the motorcycles. Smell for the pork.

I’ve made rides like this many times on motorcycles and my trusty Vespa. No reason you can’t do the same, enjoy some good food and company away from the rally for a few hours, and get back in time to enjoy the beergarden.

Drop Craig or Nate a note if you think you’ll be attending or give them a call. That way they’ll have enough ice cream. I was going to suggest Death by Chocolate but that’s just me.

Craig Kissell:  craig@kissellmotorsports.com
Nate Mattern: nate@kissellmotorsports.com

Toll Free: 866-547-7355

Good luck, eat well and safe riding.

BMW Off-Road Academy

A self portrait from this past weekend. I was riding a BMW F650 GS through the Tiadaghton State Forest tracing a route from the site of the BMW International Rally in Bloomsburg, PA back to Kissell Motorsports in State College, Pennsylvania. I'll be posting details soon of that beautiful ride.

Craig and the gang are going to be having a pig roast for BMW riders attending the rally on July 22 and suggested I try out a scenic route that showcases the great riding landscapes.  I'll post all the details on the ride and the pig roast over the weekend.

When I returned the bike on Monday I noticed an interesting poster.

BMW motorrad North America and RawHyde (official training center endorsed by BMW) will be offering an off-road clinic at the rally.  It's free and you can sign up on a first come, first serve basis with Kissell Motorsports.

Give Craig or Nate a call and tell them you want to reserve a spot.  814-861-7890.

Here are the details as I know them now:

Event:
Friday, July 22 · 10:00am - 1:00pm

Location:
BMW MOA Rally Site
Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania

This is a FREE intro to an off-road clinic being held for Kissell Motorsports customers.  Your chance to learn how to ride a GS in the dirt from experts.  Maybe they can save you some headaches and bike drops in the process.

Imagining a Ride to the 2011 BMW International Rally in Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania

Last Saturday morning I was on the road early, just before sunrise.  Not early enough for my plan to ride to the Kutztown Family Diner to visit the MAC-PAC breakfasteers.  The alarm went off shortly before 4am so I would have enough time to make the 175 mile trip and get to the diner by 8, but as luck would have it I cursed the alarm and slept for another hour and a half.

Riding at dawn is satisfying on many levels not the least of which being empty roads.  The drunks are already home, in a ditch or in jail by this time and the crazy cagers aren't up yet.  So with the road clear and some time to ride I decided to pay a visit to the Bloomsburg Fair Grounds -- the site of the upcoming BMW International Rally.

I stopped in Spring Mills hoping to grab something to eat having left home without breakfast. The Fairlawn Store wasn't open yet.  No food, no bait.

Many years ago, before the Vespa, during a time when I was more serious about riding a bicycle, I appeared at this same store on a Sunday morning to buy some snacks and something to drink.  A group of men were sitting on the front porch eying me balefully as I went into the store and made my purchases.  I thought they might have been bothered by the black Spandex riding shorts and unusual riding shoes I had on until I looked down and realized I had one of my wife's shirts on -- a beautiful black t shirt with cute pink kitties on the front.  From that time on I've become more careful of what I drape over my body.

Just east of Aaronsburg I came across the Amish equivalent of the abandoned car.  A back wheel fell off the wagon and it ground to a halt.  Instead of pulling the plates they just unhitched the horse and moved on.

One of the ugliest Amish wagons I've seen.

The road between State College and Lewisburg cuts through some beautiful farmland with great views of the countryside.  Riding is a pleasure.  This is PA Route 45 about a half mile west of Woodward, home of Camp Woodward, one of the biggest BMX, skateboarding, snowboarding and gymnastics camps in the East.  ESPN is often here to televise events like X Games.  Whatever that is.

The road promptly enters the 193 thousand acres of forest comprising the Bald Eagle State Forest.  I was beginning to feel warm when the temperature descended to 59 degrees under the trees.  This stretch of road often gives me the creeps though I'm not sure why.  It passes a place called Hairy Johns Picnic Area.  Seems Mr. Johns was accused of murdering his wife in the early 1800s -- she was found hanging on a meat hook in the cellar.  I've not fully investigated the story but perhaps some of that energy is still floating around, enough for a sensitive Vespa rider to absorb.

It doesn't take long before you cross into Union County and the wide valleys leading through Hartleton, Mifflinburg and on to Lewisburg.  If you come this way on Route 45 make sure you slow down in Hartleton.  They have an ambitious speed trap running that I think funds their schools, water system and sewage plant.  And an educational fund that sends all their kids to college and provides, room, board and a fast car.

I stopped for a gratuitous picture of the Vespa and a vanishing railroad track.  I can't remember why but I think these kinds of pictures make it possible for someone to get out of bed and ride on an old motorcycle or something.

I'm always glad to help when I can.

Crossing the river at Catawissa takes you through some beautiful roads running along the creek with lush moss covered rock outcrops.  If I had time I could stay here with the camera all day.

Arriving at the 2011 BMW International Rally site in Bloomsburg was anticlimactic.  The place was dead and looked pretty ordinary in the hazy light.  But add thousands of motorcycles and it will probably have a completely different feel.

For those of you thinking of going it runs from Thursday, July 21 through Sunday, July 24.  And the ride from State College to Bloomsburg is an easy ride.  Easy pretty much from anywhere in Pennsylvania.  Or the United States.

I didn't linger.  It was Father's Day and I wanted to get home and see if Kim got me a new motorcycle or something.  And my daughter was going to take me out for tea and cookies.  (That sounds kind of weird.)  The scooter was running well and I headed back through some winding country roads until picking up US 11 in Danville.

An Apology to a Band of Harley Riders

I'm usually a rather quiet, sedate rider and keep to myself.  But there are times when I find myself caught up in a surge of deviling energy.  This was one of those mornings.

I was standing along the road shooting a picture of something when a group of about 15 Harley riders roared by on full dress motorcycles and a bunch of near-chopper type machines.  Each without helmets and a general collection of gloveless hands, leather and t-shirts, the common fashion statements that one associates with this riding subculture.

I got back on the scooter and headed down the road in their direction.  They weren't traveling very fast and after a few miles I joined the group, hanging back a couple car lengths as we all headed towards Northumberland.

And then a fascinating thing happened.  The rider at the back of the pack saw me and began a series of hand gestures that were passed forward to the leader of the pack.  In moments the pack sped up to put some distance between their mighty throng and my Vespa.

The devil whispered in my ear and I rolled on the throttle.  The Harleys moved faster, 60, 65, 70, 75mph but I was still riding along as if I were a member of the group.  They probably didn't know that another mile per hour of speed would have left me behind as I had reached the limit of the Vespa.

I have to apologize for intruding in their fantasy and possibly ruining their day.  There are days when I can be a bit assholish.  I have no business taunting anyone on the road regardless of how harmless I think it is.

They eventually slowed and turned into a parking lot of a breakfast establishment as I went by.  Talking later with a Harley riding friend I suggested they were either talking about what a jerk that scooter rider was OR how fast that Vespa could go.

He assured me that it was the former.

Across the Susquehanna River and on towards home. Once the sun gets higher the temperature hovers near 80.  For a moment a swim sounds like a good idea.

After a short break to look around the riverbank and make a few pictures I plot a route home including one more break for gas and a bite to eat.  While sitting on the sidewalk in the shade of a trash can at the Sheetz in Mifflinburg a BMW R1200 GS rides up.  I talk with the rider and he's planning to attend the rally in July.  I ask if he's going to ride in the big GS event, ride over those log piles and through the water.  He looks and me and smiles, looks over at the Vespa, grins, and tells me, "It's a new motorcycle."

We didn't say anything else, both nodding and doing that thing guys are so good at --- leaving a conversation with incomplete information.  He headed east and I west towards a nap.

Five miles from home I stop to make a picture of the round barn near Centre Hall, one of the few left anywhere.  I heard a Harley coming towards me and wondered if I could fit it into the frame as it went by.  By dumb luck everything fit.  It's a challenge to do considering the shutter lag on a point and shoot camera.

Home, a nap, tea and cookies, and lounging around like a lazy bum with Kim's complete approval.  Ah if Father's Day couldn't come twice a week every week.  Junior on the other hand was not pleased that I left early without his usual four mile walk.  He was at me every moment trying to get some action.  Or at least a portrait for his website.  So he and I strolled out to the garden and I made this picture.

While he was nosing around for chipmunks I raced into the house and leaped onto the couch with him hot on my tail.  If he could talk I'm sure he would have said something like, "You're one lazy bastard."

And that's a good thing.