The Common Sense of Morning

Regardless of how hectic or chaotic an hour, day or week might be, a morning ride on the Vespa wipes away the noise.  Road, wind and motion, that quiet meditation where all the world seems exactly as it should be.  Or so it seems.

State College, Pennsylvania last Sunday morning, oddly empty, as if all the world was still asleep.

Why does the dawn come at such an inconvenient time of day?

Dog Interruptus

Please excuse the absence of a riding related post.  Junior has no patience for such nonsense as writing, editing, processing images or blogging in general.  First things always come first he says, "Take me up on the mountain and let me swim, run and be a damn dog!"

Junior now returns your attention to browsing the web...

The Only Journey is the One Within

"The only journey is the one within.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke

And so a new day begins, a short journey from home to work save for the meandering divergence from the precise, economical, predictable route.  Birds chuckle and the faint scent of grass lingers in the air; a few wandering steps following the camera's eye.  Meetings today, one, two, three I think.  And then the thought is gone, wiped away by the sharp, crackling of boot on gravel.

And the journey continues, short, small, significant in mind and memory.

The world when observed with a Vespa...

Heart of the Sunrise

Magic moments -- sunrise and sunset -- the time of day where the world is a painting.  Flying through the colored light on a Vespa, breathing in the glow of the world, my god how sweet life is.  And for a few moments I can hear Jon Anderson whispering,  "Dream on, on to the heart of the sunrise..."

Showing my age.

Rain

This morning I decided to ride in the rain to Saint's Cafe in State College, Pennsylvania.  Watching the Weather.com radar map on my iPhone I postulated that I could make it into town before the orange and red blobs arrived.

I was wrong.

By the time I was on the road the rain started falling faster.  By the traffic light at the end of the street my gloves were soaked and water was pouring through my vented riding pants.

A half mile farther and I could see rivers of water pouring down the right side of the road with occasional tributaries crossing my path.  Another mile and the rain begins to slow slightly as I pull off the road to make this photograph.  The stream snaking through the pasture isn't a stream.  It' one of those ephemeral waterways only coming to life during particularly hard, fast, heavy downpours.

Probably not the best day to ride.

An hour later the sky was blue and the sun was shining.  I was mostly dry save for my gloves and I was thinking I really need to get a rainsuit for riding.  The foul weather sailing gear I use just isn't designed to deal with a helmet.

It was a great ride though rain and all...

Do You Want a Scooter or Motorcycle?

Ducati Men. My friends Ken Hull and Paul Ruby posing this morning on the way to Way Fruit Farm in Stormstown, Pennsylvania for breakfast.  A few miles down the road we'd run into a rural traffic jam -- three turkeys in the middle of the road resisting being herded off the pavement by a guy on an ATV and another on a bicycle.  Should of stopped to make a picture but, well, I've seen turkeys on the road before.

The ride this morning reminded me of a question I hear a lot -- should I get a scooter or a motorcycle?  A few days ago I was talking with a woman about her choice of motorcycles and she explained that friends told her she wouldn't be able to keep up on a 650cc bike she was considering and ended up choosing a Honda 1100cc Shadow instead.  I was tempted to ask how fast her friends rode but remained silent.

Riding this morning my mind worked over the scooter vs. motorcycle question.

For me the answer depends on needs and choices in these three areas:

1.  Form -- the physical being of the machine.  Size, shape, looks, chrome, power, wheel size, lights, seat height, etc.  Choices in this area are guided by all sorts of real and imagined desires and needs.  It often comes down to "I like the looks of that.".

2.  Function -- how the machine performs.  Speed, handling, comfort, maintenance.  All the on the road riding stuff that gets you where you're going, handles the route you've chosen, and keeps you safe and comfortable.  As straightforward as this seems there is a lot of denial and delusion at work about all of this stuff.

3.  Ego -- what an individual requires to feel "ok" in the world.  Just like clothes, hairstyle, and a million other little things, a person can be driven or influenced by what they think others think of them.  Or how they brand themselves.  Of the three areas I believe this is the decider.  No matter how much sense a choice makes in area one or two, it has no chance at all if the ego says no.

So what about a scooter vs. a motorcycle?  I can't speak for anyone but me.  Here's what I know:

1. My 250cc Vespa can keep up with any motorcycle riding legally and safely.  With a top speed of 75mph it's a not issue on backroads or the freeway.  Certainly more work to ride a light scooter at high speeds but it is possible.

2.  A scooter isn't as rugged.  Speaking about my Vespa I can say it has been pretty reliable save for things I overlooked.  As 23K miles nears on the odometer I feel comfortable it can go another 23K without issue.  I've read of riders surpassing the 50K mark without needing any rebuilds or reworking.

3.  A scooter isn't good offroad.  Well, depends what you are doing.  I've ridden offroad with mine but would want more aggressive tires if I was going to do a lot of it.  And it absolutely can't handle water crossings of any depth beyond a couple inches deep.  The air intake is low and will suck in water and make you sad.

My gut feeling about why people shy away from scooters are feelings that they aren't serious vehicles, they're too light weight and underpowered, and they just don't fit a lot of rider's idea of who they are as a rider.  And that's fine.  Choosing a machine is personal and you should choose something you like and feel comfortable with.

But don't let anyone tell you that you can't keep up or that you'll be worn out after a day on a Vespa.

Horse apples.

Besides, a Vespa is far easier to negotiate practically anything over a Harley, BMW, Ducati, or any motorcycle.  In my humble opinion and based on a lot of miles on a lot of different motorcycles.

And it is far easier to use in the winter when you may run into snow or ice.  A LOT easier.

Paul and Ken get pretty animated after spending some time astride their Ducati's.  When they ride their BMW and Harley respectively they're quiet, almost somber, lost in thought and worrying about what people think about them on the road.

Maybe I'm projecting.

Anyways, it was a great way to start a Saturday morning, good ride to breakfast, had to deal with rain on the way home but that's just part of the riding experience.

Break the Gossamer Web of Some Dream

Fog and a gray white morning seeps into my body before I'm fully awake, drawing me from bed, whispering abandonment of all things save to be on the road.  Riding towards work a line from Edgar Allan Poe's "The Pit and the Pendulum" -- Break the Gossamer Web of Some Dream swept through my head.  I'd read that story just a few days earlier and now here it was again.  Riding like a dream.

Those rides, dreamlike and dripping with excited expectation that world will be different, the view over the next will will be completely unknown and I'll enter a world so foreign that I may lose my way.

Those possibilities are why I have no Garmin on the scooter and seldom have a map.  How can that knowledge ever match the power of a dream?

Across the northern wilderness and for a precious moment I am lost in a world where providence still lives.  And then the web dissolves and I know exactly where I am and where all roads lead -- another Vespa ride to work.

Still, how promising a start to a day.

Radical Acceptance

Early this morning, on my way to meet Aleta and ride with her to her first riding day of the MSF course -- five hours of focused training on a riding range.  Moments like these are quiet, serene and the weight of the world evaporates like smoke.

Too bad a person can't ride all the time.

I need to do something -- life seems like it's spinning out of control. Or maybe I'm just plain stupid and getting worse as time marches on. I've always enjoyed repeating one of my dad's favorite retorts to many of life's crappy situations -- "It's hell to get old." but lately the evidence seems to be gathering to direct support that theorem. All roads lead to the reclining chair in the living room of late, the weight of my ass dragging me down and my brain with it.

That sounded odd.

Kim is on the phone laughing at something Jack Riepe, renowned author, BMW rider, humorist and sage, is telling her. Seems as if they're talking about Cher….

Radical Acceptance.

The title of a book Kim shared with me by Tara Brach, a clinical psychologist and Buddhist teacher, that might help. Help with some of the telltale signs of things going wrong in that strange way that you feel for each step forward you've taken three backwards. The book promises some help in sorting things out.

We'll see.

A few hours ago while doing some last minute trimming on a Forsythia I managed to cut the phone line coming into the house. Nice clean cut. No phone, no DSL, no Netflix, no nothing.

Shit. Damn it. I just want to sit in the reclining chair.

So off I go, tools in hand and a never say die attitude to fix things. That's what I do, it's programmed genetically, I fix things. I'm just not that good at it. So I make an ugly repair using lots of electrical tape and a few sharp instruments and was only shocked once when that 90 volt DC charge appeared as someone was calling the house.

Just the tip of the iceberg.

A couple weeks ago I changed the rear tire on the Vespa and almost immediately it began losing air pressure. Pump it up to 32 psi and two hours later it drops to 20psi. So multiple times a day I'm putting air in the tire.

Relentless. Over and over I'm pushing the boulder up the hill. Until today.

Right after I fixed the phone line I pulled the rear tire off the scooter. Just what I wanted to do, roll around on the driveway, pull the exhaust, the shock, the tire. Ugh.

I deduced the problem had to be a leaky tire valve. My lazy ass didn't install a new one when I put the new tire on. Or the seal around the wheel was faulty because I didn't clean it well and some dirt or grit was letting air escape. Never occurred to me to look for punctures though. After 15 minutes of soapy water exploring and finding nothing I look at the tread and there it is -- a big nail, now all nicely ground down from the 500 or so miles I've ridden in 10 mile increments. That nail must have gone in the tire during the first few miles of riding.  So close to the tire change that I had to think it was my fault.

It's always my fault.

I'm not changing that tire myself. I'm paying someone to do it.

Life hasn't been limited to boneheaded maneuvers. Some of it is just part of a wave of regular responsibilities that at times flood my ability to deal with them.

Like the new toilet project I embarked on -- installed the new one but never managed to get the old one beyond the driveway.

When Kim and I determined it might look a little too avant garde for the neighbor hood we dismantled it and have it in the garden as a potential planter. Won't say how long that took.

Add all that up and the old body isn't responding too well. The Psoriatic Arthritis I battle is worse when stress levels rise. But I shouldn't worry. Last time I saw my rheumatologist I inquired how the disease would affect my life span. "Not at all," he says. "The disease won't shorten your life. But the drugs may kill you." Nice to get a straight answer from a medical professional.

And last week I was in the middle of a "cardiac event" for lack of a better term. One of those moments where you actually weigh "If I ignore this it will probably go away," with "I probably should be smart and go to the hospital before I drop dead.".  Preliminary tests show no heart attack or obvious structural problems with the heart.  But all the test results aren't in yet. My money is on stress. Too many multiple nights of three hours of sleep followed by meals of hot dogs, chocolate donuts and ice cream.

I'm not 25 anymore.

It's hell to get old.

So I'm ready to read this Radical Acceptance book. And trying to push the Vespa back into the daily flow of things. Regardless of what is going on a ride has a calming effect.

Geez...

Vespalogy: Animated Retrospective of the Vespa

Received an email this morning from Don Barletta with a link to this animated film produced by the French graphic design studio NOMOON. It's a labor of love on their part and a visual love affair with Vespa for anyone like me who has it in their veins.

Yes, despite the many and varied motorcycles I have ridden, I remain a committed Vespa rider.  

For more on this video and the Vespa story you can check the link at motorcycle.com where Don directed me.

Challenges for New Rider

Aleta is working her way towards becoming a hardcore scooter rider -- this picture taken over the weekend during a lull in the rain during a 100 mile ride.  Her first long trip had a little of everything -- weather, traffic, distance and winding roads.  Soon she'll graduate from my guidance to the professional training offered through the Pennsylvania Motorcycle Safety Program.  

I told her a little rain wouldn't hurt her.

Aleta is riding her Yamaha Vino while I lead the way on the Vespa.  Trying out the Camera Bag 2 app for processing the rainy image.  It says I'm a Hipster...

Technorati Tags: motorcycles, MSF, scooters, Vespa, Camera Bag

Pass the Keys

On evenings like this nothing matters but the sky and the road...

Hectic Week -- The Vespa Prescription

A long week, the kind thick with action and thought, wrapped in speed and seasoned with perplexing ideas and behavior.  The kind of week that can make a person scream just to release a bit of the tension built up in gut, spine and eyes.  At least that's where it gets me.  A nice evening ride into town is the perfect restorative prescription to herd life back toward a gentle landscape, one where the world feels full of wonder and opportunity.  Seeing this mural painted on the front of Uncle Eli's art supply store in State College, Pennsylvania seemed the perfect icon then and now.

Have I said it's been a hectic week?

 

Evening rides are luscious.  An encompassing warmth that makes it difficult to determine where your skins stops and the universe begins.  Air dripping with summer fragrances, honeysuckle and warm asphalt topped with streams of cut grass and automobile exhaust.  Standing in the grocery store parking lot I'm content to close my eyes and breath in the world.  I've beaten this theme to death -- I would never have these experiences in a car.  Engineers surely have programmed the contraption to appeal to a genetic predilecton to be methodical and business like when in a cage.  Get from point A to point B as quickly and efficiently as possible.  Perhaps it might be different if I was driving a 1968 Sunbeam Alpine.  

Right now I am alive and in the world with a Vespa.  Another 60 miles today.  Perhaps more over the weekend.

Oh, what fun.  A colleague referred to cranky old white men today.  I asked for the parameters of that assessment.  Whatever it is, the Vespa is an effective medicine for that and other maladies.  

As Nina Simone might say, "Feeling good!"

Memorial Day Weekend

 

Hope everyone had a fine weekend and Memorial Day (for those of you in the USA).  This picture pretty much says it all in terms of riding.  Clear, bright and teasing of summer.  And now, late in the evening, my thoughts turn towards another week at work...

Two Evenings at Piston and Pints

View from the inside of Ken Hull's Moto Shack and Lounge in Boalsburg, Pennsylvania.  Took this a couple weeks ago at the first Piston and Pints event of the 2013 season.  The pictures below will give you an idea of the event.  Pictures were made on May 2nd and May 16th.

If you haven't ventured into Boalsburg on the first and third Thursday of the month to join the Piston and Pints crowd you should at least think about it.

Without further ado I'll share some of the pictures I made.

Just one of many vintage machines that appear at Piston and Pints.  I could covet one of these if it had disc brakes.

Dave Dix and his BMW GS.  Great bike.  He had to leave early.  I think he was heading to Antarctica or something like that.  Those BMW riders...

Mike Mohney, faculty member in Penn State Ag Science's landscape contracting program, surprised me by showing up on a cool, two-stroke, Yamaha cafe racer.  Those tires are fantastic.

Camera optics are funny.  I think.  Either that or Ken is really tiny or that fellow is really big.

I think it's the lens...

Robert eats salad and rides a Harley.  I should have told him it doesn't fit the image HD works so hard to develop.  Salad seems more of a Vespa thing.

Paul Ruby on May 2, 2013.  He bought the Ducati jacket from another rider attending the event.  Ken's Moto Shack and Lounge building makes a good backdrop for a portrait.  Thinking I need to start making portraits of everyone who attends.  A new photo project perhaps...

Well look, that's me...

The Piston and Pints Library.

A Honda CB cafe racer conversion.

Ken Hull took time from his busy day to demonstrate the correct way to apply condiments to a hot dog.

Paul D. Ruby, Ducati, BMW and Vespa rider, Ferrari owner, and recent acquirer of a Nikon D800.  That's why he's smiling.

More than one Vespa at Piston and Pints on May 16.  Still rare though.

Postcard From the Sticks

Last week, a foggy morning on the way to work, a nice little ride across the far east end of the Penn State campus at University Park.  On days like this a Vespa makes life a little sweeter...

Relentless Obsession

Author Thomas Wolfe wrote in his novel You Can't Go Home Again, “I have to see a thing a thousand times before I see it once.” I understand the idea.

Over the years I've made thousands of pictures of my wife, dog, Vespa and the landscapes I frequent -- a relentless, obsessive pursuit that many don't understand while others dismiss as some irrational action of one of those "creative people".

For years I've been venturing out on Sunday mornings, often riding the same routes looking at the same scenes. And I still see something new every trip, feel something a bit different, experience reality in a slightly altered manner.  So I keep riding and making pictures.

And Junior feels left out, wondering what attraction that silver contraption holds.  I remind him that I make a lot of pictures of him as well, thousands in fact, and still I haven't seen him well.

A ride up Calder Alley in State College, Pennsylvania last Sunday morning.  New stories playing out, everything a bit different -- special in its own way.

Riding across a valley I've traversed for forty years and I still find places I've not seen.  A short walk to the top of a weed covered promontory where I can survey this new place, take in the the sight, this time for the first time, another 999 visits to go before I see it.

Riding the Vespa, a means to an end, a part of a thousand journeys.  I keep trying to see these places and I'm not done yet.

So I'll keep the camera handy and keep riding.

A Fine Day to Ride a Vespa

Rain over Mount Nittany this morning, an iconic landscape associated with Penn State, as seen on my way to work this evening.  I could see the fog and rain passing over the mountain as I walked the dog this morning and planned to make a picture.  Gray skies and mist are good for riding and photography.

By the time I returned home this evening the rain had passed but the sky still held on to that fairyland feeling that often sweeps overhead with a change in weather.  The red light in the distance was the tail lights of a car or truck at the edge of the woods.  Not sure what they were doing back there but didn't feel like finding out.

A quick picture and I was on my way, minutes from home, with three Mexi-Hots from Meyer Dairy Store.  When I was a student (in 1972) there was a place called Pop's Mexi-Hots in State College, Pennsylvania selling the luscious little hot dogs with mustard, chili and onions.  Joe Meyer acquired the recipe when Pop went out of business and a faithful few still show up to have one now and again.

I could myself as one of the faithful.

Ride, Work, Ride

Morning mental checklist -- weather report -- rain, might need van, lots of stuff to take to work, van makes sense.  Check, check, check and check.  All adds up to riding the Vespa.  Standing in the driveway with all my junk piled on the scooter I knew I was making the right decision.

Rides to work can be absolutely ordinary with the highlight of the trip at stop at Subway for a takeout breakfast.  Yet peering out the window this morning I knew I'd see the world differently had I arrived at this spot via a Honda van.

Self portrait.

And then the workday is over.  A stop on the way home, a path I've ridden hundreds of times, and always, regardless of weather or events of the day, an place with uncanny power to calm and recompose a swirl of jagged mental energy into a quiet symphony of nothingness.

And on towards home, a lingering look at a quiet place before the final ride of the day disappears in the darkness.  I was not alone here.  Just 50 yards to my right a man crouched in front of a minivan staring at a small fire in the road.   He didn't look up and I didn't intrude.

Perhaps he'd found his own version of ride, work, ride...