Memorial Day Ride

Almost a week has passed since I started this post. Sometimes it takes awhile to arrest the thoughts on paper.

The following was written on the morning of May 28, 2007.

Cool Morning. Fog. At Whipple Dam State Park, birdsong and the sound of water pouring over the spillway fills the air. Aside from an old man chasing geese off the beach on the other side of the lake I have the place to myself.

The road to the park winds over Tussey Mountain, through the woods and along Standing Stone Creek. The first hint of sunlight pushes through the fog causing some of the trees to glow.

I've been reading "A Sense of the World" by Jason Roberts. It's the story of James Holman, British Royal Navy officer, Knight of Windsor, and adventurer. What makes his story unique is that he undertook a circumnavigation of the world by land and sea in the early 1800's after becoming blind and fighting debilitating pain. Whenever I find myself concerned with the minor extremes I face while riding I will recall Holman's winter trip across Siberia in a horse drawn sledge.

A breakfast of cheese and Melba toast, nuts, raisins, and a fresh orange seems a perfect counter to the familiar hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs I usually eat on a ride. A bullfrog croaks agreement just a few yards away. A family of geese visit hoping for a handout. I politely decline not wanting to reinforce bad behavior --- theirs or mine.

The man chasing geese arrives on my side of the lake to continue his geese chasing and other activities to ready the park for the day. We talk for a while and he tells me he has recently retired from park service at age 86. Looking at him I would have guessed 75 tops. His secret is a daily glass of vinegar.

The conversation turns briefly to Memorial Day and he tells me his son was a Marine and died in 1968. We both are quiet for a while.

I feel grateful. Not just to have the opportunity to sit here but for the life and opportunity I have. On Memorial Day I need to remember is comes with a cost.

End of Entry.

A cost. That's where I stopped writing. I kept thinking about the cost for the rest of the week.

Later that day I walked through the Pennsylvania Military Museum grounds and looked at the monuments signifying places like Antietam, Gettysburg, Meuse-Argonne, Normandy, and Ardennes-Alsace. Names carved in granite, row after row, memories of lives lost far from home, reminders of the solemn cost of my own gratitude.

I'm not sure what I think of the celebrations wrapped around Memorial Day. In town we have carnivals, car shows, craft festivals, music and food. Perhaps a fitting memorial is the existence of celebrations.

Pie contest on Main Street.

Old firetruck at Car Show

Another Memorial Day has passed but the reminders linger.

Foggy Sunday Morning

At 5:30 AM Kim asked me if it was foggy outside. Fog is almost always a sure bet to get me out of bed but today she had to ask twice. By 6:00 AM I was on the road in a damp 60° F fog. Riding was slower than normal due to the almost immediate fogging of my visor when it was down and my glasses when it was up. I forgot to pack the handkerchiefs I normal bring just for this reason. I watched closely for vehicles that might run up behind me but there wasn't any traffic at this time of the morning. There was an seemingly endless supply of subjects and landscapes calling to my camera. Here are a few of the images I made during the ride.

Almost everything that is ordinary in clear weather takes on new life in the fog. I've passed this dirt lane many times without giving it a second look. Today it led somewhere special.

Farther up the lane was this island of trees. If I figure out who owns this property I might ask permission to explore more closely.

Every crossroad, fence, and field looked great. I am still amazed that everyone is still asleep during the best time of the day. I saw the first vehicle while making this picture. That was 40 minutes after I left the house.

On the way up through Blackhawk Gap I stopped to photograph a few Vespa admirers. You can see one just above and to the left of the scooter.


Rural, Brown Swiss heifers and Vespa admirers.

A stop in Bellefonte to sit in the park and eat the breakfast I packed.

One of the statues in front of the Bellefonte courthouse. I sat on the bench in the background to eat and watch Bellefonte wake up. It was still pretty much asleep when I left.

On the way home as the sun just begins to burn through the fog. We have a lot of fantastic roads for leisurely riding here and they just go on and on north into New York, south into Maryland and West Virginia, east into New Jersey and west into Ohio.

By the time I got home the sky was blue and the sun was heating things up. A quick stop at the store for mild and then home to post this entry and then relax and work in the garden.

Fun and Excitement

Already frightening in the daylight, imagine the wild fun and excitement these horses will offer at night.

Not every ride can be an extended exploration. Some days are reserved for work, errands and other adult responsibilities. The ride can be reduced to simple two-wheeled navigation between point A and B. For me this most commonly occurs as the straight (relatively speaking) commute back and forth to work. And this is where many recreational riders miss an opportunity. The same sort of discovery, freedom and adventure you find on the weekend may be available during the week if you pay attention albeit on a much smaller scale. And even on the smaller scale they are rewarding.

All alone in the carnival midway.

Coming home yesterday on my normal short route I spied the rides had gone up for the upcoming fireman's carnival. This little event is less than a half-mile from my front door and starts tonight. Our sleepy little town is briefly transformed into a brightly colored one. And this year we have the Zipper! Walking around in the empty midway I was almost transported back to similar events I remember from my youth. Memories. On some level it's what riding is all about for me.

A Vespa GTS 250ie looks right at home in the front yard.

The Vespa GTS has continued to perform flawlessly. The odometer will hit the 2000 mile mark about the time I hit the end of the street on the way to work this morning. Regardless of what you ride, if you keep your brain open, I'll bet one of these scooters will make you smile. If you need more engineering and aesthetic evidence of the Vespa GTS pay a visit to the Road Test of the Vespa GTS250ie on Rush Hour Rambling and read what a serious rider thinks of this machine.

Letting the Road Lead

Another Saturday morning with no plans. The day arrives with possibilities - work in the garden, clean the house, grocery shopping, ride. The sky was blue and the temperature hovering in the low 40's. I thought about pulling all my camping gear out of the closet to see how well I could pack the scooter. I struggled with the possibilities before deciding on a short ride. Like so many other mornings I sat at the end of the driveway for a few minutes pondering whether to go left or right.

What I really like about riding is the feeling of freedom. It's physical. I'm gliding through the air. And it's mental. When I am riding almost everything slips away other than me, the Vespa, and the world. At its best I am focused on the moment in front of me.

Riding north I think of the old Chevrolet jingle that Dinah Shore used to sing - See the USA in Your Chevrolet. There's a piece of Americana from another time. But that's what I am doing with the Vespa GTS. I'm seeing the world in a way I don't believe possible in a Chevrolet (or any other four-wheeled vehicle). I'm seeing what's around me. Not a trip to grand destinations but appreciating the magic that is right in front of me almost anywhere I am.

In pictures and captions this is how the morning unfolded:

Vanishing experience - local drive-in theater still operating. Shrek 3 was playing along with three other movies for a dusk to dawn experience.


Had to stop at a motorcycle garage with flowerboxes. It was closed but a peak inside the garage revealed a huge collection of old bikes. I'll be back.


Gamble Mill Restaurant in Bellefonte, Pennsylvania. Closed this early in the morning. Had the best venison chili at this place a few years ago.


A farmfield shortcut. You never know what kind of views you might find. The Vespa GTS handled the dirt and plants well. Has me rethinking the off-road capabilities.


Mountain spring water. It's common to find piped spring water flowing along mountain roads. What most of us pay for at the grocery store you can get for free at these places. This water is headed for the Chesapeake Bay.


Like the drive-in theaters fire towers have almost vanished in Pennsylvania. This one in Moshannon State Forest is a reminder of times past.


Some views are small.


Grander view looking southeast across the valley. Bald Eagle ridge is off towards the horizon.


Breakfast/lunch break at the lake at Black Moshannon State Park. Even in this fine spring weather I have the place to myself.


View across the lake from my picnic table. Lily pads and other vegetation starting to grow. In another month or so the lake will be thick with plants.


Heading home from Black Moshannon along Rattlesnake Road. I looked for snakes at every stop sure I would see one but no luck. With the sun out and plenty of water around I'm sure they were there. Especially up on the mountain top.

The entire ride was a visual and arromatic delight. The fragrance of dogwood, honeysuckle, and mountain laurel was everywhere as I rode through winding roads. I continue to be pleased with the performance of the Vespa GTS 250ie as a vehicle. Not only does is provide everything I need to navigate these roads and highways but it is so easy to stop and look around. I can pull over anywhere without fear I am blocking traffic or creating a huge hazard. Piaggio has really pulled together decades of Vespa work to make this arguably the best scooter ever.

So now you know my opinion. *grin*

Arrived home safely with another 64 miles on the odometer and ready to tackle the garden. I am grateful to have the opportunity to make these little trips.

Helmets and Style

Anyone who knows me will tell you style is not the first thing that comes to mind when my name is mentioned. That's not to say there aren't some style choices going on in my life. My choice of a modern Vespa was made in part because I liked the visual style. Beyond that I am beginning to have trouble. I wear jeans but more because of their utility than style. The riding clothes I wear were chosen for utility as well. I picked a bright yellow riding jacket because I wanted other members of the driving community to be able to see me and perhaps not run me down as readily. That bumblebee look has become of personal style now and I wouldn't wear anything but black and yellow now. How would anyone know it's me in pictures?

A helmet for many is a personal style choice, a safety choice, or a personal freedom choice. For me, like with the yellow riding jacket, it was a safety choice. The color of the helmet was a style choice.

So where the hell am I going with this?

Yesterday on the way to work I am riding into town on Atherton Street, a four-lane road with no center divider and many driveways and streets attaching themselves to it. I'm traveling in the right-hand lane at 50 MPH. A colleague from work, Chad, is behind me in his red BMW Z3. A Toyota Land Cruiser is passing on the left and just as it pulls even with me I see in my peripheral vision a large bird sweep out from in front of the Toyota's windshield. This happens in an instant and my brain has time to acknowledge the flight path of the bird and tighten my neck muscles for impact.

The bird hits squarely in the center of my visor with startling force. It felt like someone took a swing at me with a baseball bat. The bird careens off to the right and I give my head a shake to make sure everything is still working. The Vespa GTS and I maintain a straight line on the road and continue on our merry way.

In the office Chad stops by to remark on the impact and how surprised he was by it. We both agree how nice it was to have a helmet --- me so more damage wasn't done, him because he didn't have to run me over if I got knocked down.

At lunchtime I had to run an errand and as I was taking off my helmet in a parking lot a beautiful custom painted Harley Davidson Fatboy pulls in. The rider is in commonly seen style - T-shirt, jeans, boots, no gloves, no helmet, no goggles or glasses, no windshield. I can't help but wonder what that bird impact would do. I remember my cousin was knocked off his Harley by an apple lofted from a passing car.

On the way home last evening I was aware of how little warning you really get for some things like a bird, a darting cat, dog, groundhog or deer. A rock thrown up by a passing truck. There is no time for evasive action in some of these cases. Just enough time to recognize the impending event.

I will have to seek some advice from those of you with more experience on what one actually does in these situations. All I can come up with is to brace myself for the collision and hope everything stays together and upright. And I suppose it is a reminder to slow down in certain situations and have some protective gear.

And there comes the personal decision. Style, safety, freedom. We each are responsible for ourselves.

UPDATE

Frank Armstrong aka pitchertaker posted a link in the comments section that deals with bird collisions of another sort. If you are a timid flier you may not want to watch this.

Mayday Thomson 757

Packing

Nothing has percolated into my head strongly enough to warrant a new post. Except here I am writing. Again. Certainly there has been nothing unique in any of the commutes I have made this week save for the uncomfortably hot weather on Tuesday that had me thinking about different armored riding pants.

What has been floating in my head at the near subconscious level is a long ride. An overnight ride complete with camping rather than a motel. I have a whole closet full of backpacking equipment that has sat idle for the past few years. A new MSR stove used once. Some nice titanium cookware. Ultra-light tent, down sleeping bag. Even a new ThermaRest mattress. The list goes on.

I can't even say I am planning. Just dreaming. Turning things over in that unreliable place that generally yields nothing. I have to be careful to not think too much or nothing will happen. It's probably time to start writing some things down. That will make it all more concrete.

Packing. That focuses on one area of concern. I already know I can carry a lot of stuff on the Vespa. The picture at the top of the page is from a trip last weekend to Wegman's grocery store. All of that fit under the seat. What has been worrying me is how I will carry all the stuff for an overnight trip since I don't have a big top case or front rack. Instead of worrying about it I should put everything together and load it on the Vespa and see what happens. Makes sense. That's what I'll do.

See how great writing can be.

Serial Tableau --- Saturday Morning Ride

Inspired by a comment on Rush Hour Rambling...














65 miles, fair weather.

Lazy Bastard or Reasonable Rider

I already had my earplugs in, helmet on, and ready to thumb the starter when I realized I still had my low work shoes on. Normally I ride with over-the-ankle leather Wolverine boots but I forgot to change before leaving my office. I sat a moment pondering what to do.

Riding home here in rush hour traffic is not the battle that urban commuters face on a daily basis. There is definitely more traffic but it only adds five minutes to the non-rush hour travel time.

I'll also admit to not wearing the armored pants either. Haven't been wearing them consistently since the weather warmed up. Even so I can't say the heat is the reason since temperatures still hover in the low to mid 40's in the morning. I've convinced myself I'm dressing for the ride. A reasonable thought. I might even believe it if it weren't for the fact that I have been letting the pre-ride tire pressure checks slide to weekly ones. And let's not talk about oil and fluid level checks. I suppose as my skill in manipulating the scooter have improved so much that there is really no need to put my feet down at stop signs. Perhaps the mental energy I am burning to consider these changes is merely a way to avoid thinking about more important topics. Or not.

On this ride home I feel unexpectedly exposed and vulnerable on the Vespa. I notice a tire-eating opening in the pavement that I hadn't seen before. Waiting at a traffic light I see two T-short clad, tennis shoe wearing, sportbike riders scream around a Greyhound bus and I marvel at their faith in what might be in front of that bus.

Farther along I try to convince myself that riders competing in the Tour De France travel at speeds comparable to what I'm doing. A look in my rear-view mirror at a couple arguing in the cab of a Ford F250 truck two car lengths behind me highlighted one difference between Lance Armstrong and myself.

I did go back into my office to change shoes. I have consistently been wearing full-helmet, earplugs, armored jacket, gloves, long pants, and boots. But not wearing the armored pants has bugged me for some reason. Commuting in jeans and running errands without the Tourmaster Overpants feels nice. I've gotten down on my knees often enough in the driveway to do something and felt the electric pain when a sharp pebble drives itself into my knee to realize that armored pants offer more than skin protection.

On the way home I stopped to look at some trees in bloom at a local cemetery that claims to be the birthplace of Memorial Day.

There is a large bronze statue there of three women laying flowers at the grave of a soldier fallen during the Civil War. I arrived home safe but without resolution of my personal concerns.

This morning I road to work fully geared because it was raining. The ride home was even worse in a torrential downpour. I don't know what the heck is up with my gear but by the time I got home I was drenched from the waist down. Time to look at some changes. Wet at 75 degrees on a short ride isn't bad though. Just made me feel like I accomplished something!