Taking Steps to Be Safe

Common sense, exposure to others with greater skill and experience, training, practice and enough humility to be honest about our own ability and limitations. That’s all you need to be a safe rider. Simple. Easy. All but that last part.

I don’t have any simple formula for humility or honesty when it comes to riding and safety. I suppose we each come to it in our own way, some quickly, some not so quickly. I feel fortunate to have crossed paths with several people who have steered me in the right direction – for me. Learning to ask questions related to personal skills, habits and beliefs is a good first step. A healthy measure of suspicion of riding truths and beliefs might be a good second one if you can manage it. There are a lot of sacred cows out there. Some are worth keeping but others need slaughtered. (I heard my boss utter those words in a recent meeting.)

So what am I doing kneeling on the road. That has to be safe right? Consider it an editorial illustration stressing the importance of paying close attention, which in this case is a check of the road surface. Whenever the temperature is near the freezing mark or lower I have a personal ritual of walking out in front of the house and checking for ice. Not on my hands and knees but a quick stroll and some twisting of my boots on the pavement to gauge traction. Not a perfect test or necessarily relevant to what’s over the hill but it does get my brain consciously thinking about why may lie ahead. With so many hills and dales and trees overhead conditions can change suddenly and dramatically. After a day of rain and temperatures dipping into the 20s during the night I knew ice might be a possibility. I was pleased to discover that everything must have evaporated during the night and the road surface was dry and illuminated by bright sun under a clear sky.

It’s just one thing I do to try and make my ride safe.

Sometimes I stop by the local training course used by the Pennsylvania Motorcycle Safety Program for their Basic and Advanced Rider courses. All the paint and numbers would be a hopeless jumble had I not already been through the courses.

I’m not sure if the piles of Styrofoam panels are a new obstacle on the course or just being stored there temporarily until classes start in the spring. I was able to avoid hitting the pile and spent some time navigating through the course.

I think I may register again for the Advanced Rider Training to polish my skills. I’m never sure what I may have forgotten.

Why I Hate Riding

I hate riding into the driveway and putting the scooter away. I hate riding past a good place for breakfast. And I hate riding without enough time to stop for every picture I want to make. I have a lot of hate wrapped up in riding.

The ride to work this morning unfolded in a gentle rain with temperatures in the mid 40s. After so much cold winter riding this was heaven. Nothing to hate about a little rain.

I stopped once during a leisurely ride home from work to take this picture. I was thrilled to not find my hands numb from the cold while handling the camera. Spring can be measured by the amount of ungloved time that can be reasonably contributed to photography.

I found one more thing to hate after I got home. Not sure how many of you suffer from the 10 pounds of change syndrome, you know, all the change received from a hundred stops all piled together in one pocket of your riding pants, and when you take them off 5 out of 10 times that change exits a magically un-Velcroed pocket and falls to the floor in a frustratingly wide pattern. It happens at home. It happens at work.

I hate that.

3 Prints Project Update

Despite not writing a word about this since April 2008 the project has continued. This evening I was processing film in the darkroom. Back in November photography ground to a halt as my friend Gordon and I began to edit our images and put together a Blurb book. For me that's a difficult process and one I go to great lengths to avoid. I'm finally wrapping up work on the 24 or so images that will appear in the book reflecting my experience with the project.

It's good to be back in the darkroom processing film. This evening it was two rolls of 35mm Ilford HP5 processed in ZonalPro film developer. A heady affair with a new Nikon D700 digital SLR camera keep my Leica M6 in the camera bag for a long time but now we're back together, the Leica my primary creative sketching tool. The D700 is an amazing tool and can do things I did not think possible. But after the glow of newness faded I found it cold, empty, and without the magic I feel shooting, processing film and making prints in a darkroom.

Darkrooms are cozy places and maybe sometime I'll try and make a picture that depicts that feeling. But even with the lights on a see a lot of comforting things around. And once the lights go down, the sound of water running, and some soft music, well, it is a great place to work.

Weather and the Calculated Risk

At 5:15 PM when I left my office the Vespa was coated in a glistening sheen of ice. How I got there and what I would do next was a result of calculating risk. Standing by the scooter I could see traffic moving on wet, slushy roads. Heavy skies reduced light levels. With temperatures hovering near freezing and moisture in the air I knew visor fogging would be an issue. My brain was working, trying to calculate my next action.

Weather is predictable to a point. In warm weather unexpected changes in temperature or precipitation are challenges most often met with gear adjustments and minor changes in riding. Unexpected changes in cold weather involve more risk and can't be overlooked.

I stood outside with the dog in the morning weighing the pros and cons of riding to work. The forecast called for two brief periods of snow or sleet followed by rain later in the evening. The road was dry and the skies looked heavy but no hint of moisture yet. I made the decision to ride to work knowing that it could get worse when it was time to go home. I had my usual backup plan ready --- park the scooter in the parking garage and take the bus home.

By mid-afternoon what I thought would be a passing flurry or shower of sleet had developed into something more persistent. I kept an eye on the street outside my window and the progress of traffic. I was already calculating risk. When I walked outside at the end of the day it was decision time.

The accumulation of sleet and snow in the parking lot would be heavier than anyplace on the ride home. It was the safest place to test for traction and just a tiny bit of throttle pushed the rear wheel sideways. Head up, eyes forward, and gentle throttle would be the rule of the ride.

Two stops would slow me down, one for fuel, and a second for cash at the ATM. Walking back to the scooter with a pocket full of money I met a good Samaritan. A neighbor saw the scooter and me and thought I might need a ride home. My experience on the road for the past four years have brought many would be good Samaritans. It's nice to know that help is available if needed. In this case I politely declined and thanked him for the offer.

By the time I pulled into the driveway it was almost dark, I was tired, and the sleet was still coming down. The ride home was not as bad as other unexpected winter rides but it did require constant attention and adjustment. And more than a few four-wheeled vehicles had to practice patience as I made my way down the road slower than they would like to go. Definitely below the posted maximum speed limit for ideal conditions. Not many people look at those signs that way.

For those of you who have not been caught on the road when snow or sleet appears the pictures look more daunting than the actual ride. I made a careful assessment of the road surface and knew there would be adequate traction, options for ways out of situations with other vehicles, and enough experience to negotiate other hazards on the way.

I suppose the lesson here is to look beyond the image of sleet and snow and really see what is there.

Rider as Romantic

Yesterday I sat in the Terminal Cafe after a morning of riding and searching for the right Valentine's Day gift for Kim. In my head I was writing a message for a card I picked out, how I would reveal the gift, and imagining the day. Looking at the couple across the street I imagined the two of us. Romantic.

The dictionary lists several definitions for romantic. There's the obvious we associate with Valentine's Day. But another describes, in part, the draw I find in riding.

ROMANTIC: Marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of the heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized.

That's riding for me and many others. Yesterday morning the romantic was at work as I rode off to search for a rock to give to Kim. What I was after would not be in a store.

By the time I got to the cafe a coating of new snow covered the ground. Secondary roads, streets, and alleys in town were snow covered. The main roadways were mostly wet but a thin film of slush was building up in places. Had I started any later I probably wouldn't have been able to find what I was looking for.

I should probably explain the rock. I've been looking for several weeks for the right one. I'm not sure how many other men and women would be content giving or receiving a rock. It won't make many retailers smile or assist in an economic recovery. But Kim and I find satisfaction in the graceful elegance and beauty in rocks and stones. I've brought home 800 pound ones to ones the size of something that will fit under the seat of the Vespa.

Kim has designed a transformation of our property from perfect turf to woodland garden and rocks are an integral part of the landscape. I made this photograph of Kim during a walk last weekend. Exploring fields and forests fuels ideas that she introduces into our woodland garden.

Riding can reflect the same grace and elegance found in a stone. And it can trigger thoughts and feelings consistent with the second definition of romantic. This morning was an adventure. Gray skies and the thermometer hovered near the freezing mark when I left in the house and rode into the mountains.

I knew what I was looking for but uncertain where to find it. A small rock or stone transportable on the scooter with the right character and personality. Perhaps something with moss growing on it, a small fern, or a lichen. Sometimes you can find them along a creek.

Snow began to fall as I rode off onto an old fire road. My concentration in finding a stone was broken by concerns that the roads might become more hazardous if I remained too long. Part of my attention focused on rocks and part on the weather. Ten minutes of examining the floor of the woods and still nothing. Snow started to build up and it was apparent that I needed to go.

Snow is an indicator of risk and when it falls I monitor things constantly. My Motofizz bag was accumulating snow. The temperature indicator on the Vespa read 30 degrees. It was only a matter of time before the roads would be covered.

I planned to head straight home but could not pass a large rockfield for one last look. Climbing up the steep hill with patches of ice hidden under leaves and in crevasses I wondered what would happen if I took a bad fall with no one around. It was a few miles from here, up higher on the mountain that Kim fell and broke her leg and I had to carry her down to the car. A touch of the front pocket of my riding pants confirmed I had the cellphone. My emergency backup plan.

I found a rock.

Back at the scooter I knew two things. I had the rock I was searching for, and the road was completely snow covered will more falling faster now. It definitely was time to ride. Out of the mountains and into the valley the snow continued to fall but wasn't accumulating much on the main road so I decided to ride into town for breakfast at the Terminal Cafe.

The road home was quiet, comfortable, and open for thought. The temperature was above freezing now and the snow was fading. All that was left was to write in a card what I had developed in my head during the morning. Red sealing wax on the envelop and an impression from a special, romantic wax seal would complete my ideas for the card. I had to stop for one last picture, to stand and look out over the landscape and let the morning replay in my head. The riding, the romantic.

I hope you find the romantic in life, in your relationships, and in riding.

In Case of Rain

Some mornings there is no thought process involved in the decision to ride.  I knew I would ride when I got out of bed.  No weather checks, no thoughts of parking or things I would need to haul, I just went through the motions of putting on my gear, pushing the scooter out of the garage and starting it up.  The only break in the flow was when I sat down in the driveway to make a picture.

The orange low fuel light came on so I had to divert for some Nascar approved fuel at the local Sunoco station.  Fuel prices are beginning to creep back up.  I'm hoping they stop before crossing the $4 mark again.  I suppose I am in the internal combustion game for a while yet.  Just spent nearly $3000 for two cylinder heads on my truck and all the associated stuff that goes along with that.  Still cheaper to repair than buying a new one.  Or even a good used one.  But I would have rather put that money towards a Piaggio MP3.  Or a trip across the country on the Vespa.  Or anything else.  Geez.  But I digress.  

I wondered whether the snow would be gone from the motorcycle spaces when I turned into the parking lot.  A few warm days took care of most of it.  The Vespa sat all alone today, none of the other riders are ready to come out and play.  I didn't care though.  I was just glad to be back on the road.  The only unexpected event was it started to rain in the middle of the day.  I looked out the window and thought "how did I miss that?".  But then it's just rain.  Rain isn't an issue for riding, just a variation in the day.  I'm always up for rain.  

Just in case.

Battery Tenders Enable Lazy Riders

The past month many days the roads were a mess. Even for four-wheeled vehicles. No fear here though for the Vespa is fine in the garage connected to a Battery Tender, slowly slurping juice from the Allegheny Power grid. I’m relaxed.

Content.

There were days when the roads were mostly free of slippery stuff. Certainly in the range of routine riding in previous winters. The scooter is on the Battery Tender though. The battery will be fine if I wait for a better day to ride. It’s still cold outside, well below freezing, and I do have a Battery Tender…

I realize now how much of my winter riding was, in part, motivated by a desire to keep the battery charged. By not wanting to winterize the Vespa. I never liked the idea of taking it out of commission for months at a time. Now a Battery Tender has come into my riding life. Like indoor plumbing and hot showers. Once you have them you can’t easily go back. You get soft. Complacent. You start having wussy thoughts --- GPS, chrome accessories, and worse.

I left this morning at 45 degrees Fahrenheit. Brrr, cold. Water on the road, My Vespa might get dirty. It’s windy. Now it’s 50 degrees and I think I should go home. The sun is out but I believe 50 degrees is chilly. I need to stop somewhere and get warm. Get my head on straight. Damn Battery Tender. I’ve turned into a riding wimp.

It turned me into a riding wimp.

I just sat with a cup of tea and jotted down some notes so I would not forget my wimpdomization. Make sure I recorded what was happening to me in case I needed to call a cab home. Crazy.

And then, on the way home, it happened. I sensed a shift. Any concerns about cold, weather, water, it all evaporated. I was a rider again. Maybe it wasn’t the Battery Tender. Maybe it was the weather, the desert of riding experiences of late all piling up in my head like it was my fault. Good old brain is always plotting.

I rode into town tonight. Temperature dropping near freezing but I had a few errands to conduct. And I was set on riding. That’s the way it should be. It's good to be on the road again.

And the Battery Tender isn't plugged in, just in case.