Revisiting Risk: The Accident

This post is about my friend John and the accident he was part of when his BMW motorcycle hit the side of a garbage truck one morning on the way to work. This happened a long time ago now --- in October of 2007. The circumstances of the crash don’t matter.

Physically the accident was a tragedy. John suffered severe trauma to his right leg as a result of the collision and after 14 months of surgical and medical combat a life threatening infection led to an amputation. He's now moving towards acquiring his first prosthetic leg.

A simple question comes to me from time to time as I think about John and his journey. He has remained pretty optimistic most of the time and seems to plan ahead to new adventures. It would be easy to take another path in this situation.

What would I do if I was involved in an accident?

A recent ride home from work. I’m traveling 50 mph in the right-hand lane of a four-lane road. A silver Dodge minivan is slowly passing me on the left. Ahead and to my right at a stop sign is an SUV waiting for a chance to cross both lanes and turn left to head back into town. My eyes scan the road ahead, the van to my left, the front wheels of the SUV. My head is calculating options. The SUV driver is watching the approaching traffic waiting for the precise moment to move their foot from the brake to the accelerator. I can see their face, their eyes. We are all involved in a complex dance of behavior, choices and decisions. Options fade quickly as we reach the point of no return. The moment when there are no options should anyone fail to do their part. It’s a moments like these that I think about my friend John.

I don’t think about motorcycle or scooter accidents a lot. I know they can happen and I know that risk can be managed to a great extent. Responsibility falls squarely on my shoulders in taking and managing them.

Back to my question. What would I do if I were in a bad accident? I’ve talked to others who have given up riding after a near miss let alone a collision. Would I do that? There really is no way to tell for sure what I would do but I have to say John’s experience has been instructional in a way I would not have thought back when it first began.

John Rides Again

John was not a recreational rider. Riding was part of his life and who he is. He wrestled with the question himself and yesterday boarded a plane for Florida to pick up a motorcycle and ride it back to Pennsylvania. That’s quite a ride for the first ride after an accident, minus one leg, and no prosthetic leg yet. I talked with John last week and he told me that all the amputee support groups and counselors advise he continue on with his life like nothing happened.

His decision did not sit well with everyone. His minister said in a letter that John shared that his decision to ride again amounted to nothing more than a big “fuck you” to everyone who cared about him through these past months. I asked John what his wife thought about a new motorcycle (she is an MSF instructor) and he told me that she said he would be one with the bike by the time he got home. John took that as an affirmative response.

In case you are wondering what motorcycle he is going to get and how he is going to manage it sans right leg it is a 1983 BMW R100 RS with a sidecar. A big ugly side car. But as John said to me one big enough to hold his wheelchair.

He had a friend make him something that will allow him to operate the foot brake with what's left of his leg. Looks like something a BMW rider would think of.

On Tuesday morning he is planning to begin his trip north with trips to Deals Gap and along the Blue Ridge Parkway. I would not be surprised if he changes his plans and makes the first ride another Iron Butt Ride. He’s done two now I think. Those BMW riders are, what’s the word, CRAZY, yeah, that’s it.

But again, the question: Would I ride again after a serious accident? I would like to think I would. I think riding occupies a place in my life that is important in a manner that probably only other riders might understand. I don’t dwell on this but I have been thinking of it lately. I don’t believe that accidents are inevitable or even likely. I believe a lot of risk can be managed to make riding safer.

Anyways, I wanted to share what I thought was a courageous decision on John’s part amidst a bad situation. But he seems to have found his rhythm again.

Join me in wishing him good luck and safe riding.

Unavoidable Daydreams

I picked up my Vespa GTS 250ie from Kissell Motorsports last Tuesday -- the rear brake needed to be bled.  Now when I pull the brake lever you know something is happening.  For any of you not familiar with riding keep in mind that the FRONT BRAKE is the one with 80 percent of the possible stopping power.  But the rear brake does add additional stopping power and there are times that you need to finesse special situations with that rear brake.  Gravel, snow, ice, and some other slippery surfaces come to mind.

Sometimes I just hate going into a motorcycle dealership.  So many things that get my brain all stirred up.  I have had my eye on Triumph motorcycles for years, decades in fact.  The two Triumph Scramblers are just another machine to clog up my thought processes...

3 Prints Project: March 22, 2009

Another Sunday morning meeting with my friend Gordon at Saints Cafe in State College to review the work from the previous week. It's nice to get together and talk with another photographer over a hot drink and a bagel.

I'm posting prints from the previous two weeks because I didn't get around to it last week. Not finding enough time to print beyond quick work prints and that's frustrating. For anyone who has worked seriously with gelatin silver materials you know how challenging it can be to achieve the nuanced values that make a print sing. Hopefully I will find a few extra hours this week to explore a bit further.

This week also found me returning to chemicals manufactured by Eastman Kodak -- Dektol for prints and D-76 for film. I've used those for over 35 years. Some things just don't need any improvement I guess.

So here are the pictures:

I've started walking in the morning before work and the camera comes along. It's quite dark at 6am but long exposures make it possible to create an image.

Another morning, a bit later as the sun crests the horizon.

Essa is a regular model in my photographs. She is not comfortable with the camera. She probably doesn't know what I am doing but she is wary of the camera.

As I often do with people I make photographs from behind. There is a lot of expression taking place from this angle.

Another stolen moment. Kim taking notes on something she's found in an architectural book.

Essa on a Saturday morning walk. At nearly 16 she keeps on going.

One of the advantages of hanging out with other photographers is they often make pictures of you. I know a lot of people don't like to look at themselves or feel it's vain, but I am fascinated at how I change. I could get lost in a self-portrait process if I let myself. Changes in body shape, receding hair, graying hair, creases and wrinkles. I have watched myself turn into my father in pictures. I see the natural process at work. The photograph below was taken by Gordon Harkins after one of our meetings at Saints.

That's me, the old guy. And not a Vespa in sight.

Postcard: Under the Stars

Desire and opportunity came together this evening for my first attempt at a starry, starry night photograph of my Vespa GTS 250ie. You need to click on the image for the larger version to really appreciate the stars.

It was sort of cozy sitting on the road in the dark balancing the camera on my wallet and a Gerbing glove to make this picture. It was almost pitch black when I made the picture, could barely see a thing. The Nikon D700 is pretty amazing at ISO 3200 making this kind of thing possible.

I'm looking forward to more serious nighttime explorations.

The Walk - Ride Ritual

Have you ever tried to convince yourself that riding is a physical activity akin to exercise? That the calories and fat from a big breakfast would be burned away by a few hours of serious riding? Maybe you believe in flying saucers too.

Age, reason and the medical community sometimes intervenes suggestions to “engage in a little more exercise”. For me it’s taken the form of an early morning walk right out of bed. I picture myself just like Rocky running on the streets of South Philadelphia. I don't drink raw eggs though.

A scooter or motorcycle exists outside the realm of normal. So do many of the riders. Those of us who choose to ride for pleasure, transportation, economy or other reasons are decidedly not among the mainstream that believe four-wheeled vehicles the safe and prudent choice. But being an outsider might make it easier to change. Maybe. Such are the thoughts drifting through my helmetless head as I pass by the Zion Lutheran Church.

Exercise isn’t as much fun as riding a Vespa. Or so I thought. With camera in tow as I move through town it is not unlike my riding. I see things, stop, look around and take pictures. Other than a lack of a convenient scooter to serve as model I’ve found the walks to be rewarding. I had to stop for a moment and ponder a store window display and ask why anyone would want a plaster dog when there are so many perfectly good real dogs around.

I passed through the stand of pines again this morning at the Military Museum and tried a picture at another angle. I’ll be back.

By the time I turned towards home it was beginning to get light. Still no rain but that could change suddenly.

The ride to work was dry under gray skies. I stopped a few times to make pictures much in the same manner as I did on my walk. It is a satisfying ritual that takes almost no time and just a little additional effort. I just wish they both counted as exercise.

Postcard: Simple Observations on the Ride to Work

Stopping to look at a favorite place on a regular basis is one small pleasure of a routine ride to work. Observing the trees as the morning sun seeps over the horizon, or as a scene emerges from fog or mist, each unique reminders of being alive and awake in the world. It’s easy to rush by though and become absorbed by commuting and evaporating into music, talk, or simmering frustration. The price of stopping on the Vespa is small. A few minutes and the willingness to interrupt my forward motion. Sounds simple but it has taken me considerable practice to achieve.

I stopped on Thursday morning to watch the sunlight illuminate the pine plantation section of the Pennsylvania Military Museum. I’m still looking for the definitive picture of that stand of trees. I’ll keep stopping, probably even after I make that picture.

Postcard: A Little Night Ride

A return to town this evening found me on the Vespa after dark. I realized that there is another world to explore with the camera at night. As the weather warms I'll be heading out in the evenings for some night rides and night photography. It means dragging the tripod along and perhaps a bigger camera but I think it will be worth it.

And I love riding at night through open fields and valleys, especially now when the moon is near full.

First Ride of a Warming Season

Standing in front of the brightly colored window I felt some elation that the temperature had soared to 60F when my friend Paul Ruby and I had stopped for breakfast at the Bird House Restaurant in Montoursville, Pennsylvania. I needed to believe that winter was falling quickly behind and spring was just around the next bend.

I underdressed for the ride thinking it would be warmer sooner. And I didn’t take into account the sudden changes in temperature that can occur in the mountains. When I stopped about 30 miles from home to send a Twitter in the Sticks update my fingers were beginning to get stiff at 50F in non-electric gloves. Riding over the first ridge the temperature indicator on the Vespa hit 62F only to drop to 42F a mile later as the road descended through a narrow valley. Luckily I had the Gerbing Electric gloves under the seat.

There are lots of curves and tight turns as the road moves north through the Tiadaghton State Forest. Moisture and sporadic remnants of gravel, salt, and sand made traction dicey in places. Paul and I stopped to make a few pictures and stretch our legs (and backs). It’s hell to get old.

I went through the curve another time so Paul could make a picture of me. I’ll never have to worry about dragging anything on the ground unless it’s hanging off the scooter because I didn’t pack something correctly.

Breakfast was simple and delicious. I think I enjoy it as much as I do the riding. This time I remembered to take a picture after only one bite of toast rather than the usual empty plate picture.

Paul waxes poetically about life, art, and poetry. And eBay. He makes his living on eBay and is not pleased with some of the changes made to that system.

Every poet-adventurer needs a brass compass. Across the street from the restaurant was an Army-Navy Store with a selection of them. This was a nice one as compasses go. But who uses them anymore?

A stop along the Wyalusing Path (US 220) on our way north to Eagles Mere. Scooters and motorcycles fascinate me as sculptural objects. I suppose it’s why I can continue to photograph the Vespa. One of these days I’ll exhaust that fascination but for now I’m content doing what I’m doing.

Paul made another picture of me – the well-prepared photographer – a Canon G9 around my neck and a Leica M6 in my right hand. Those electric gloves remind me of what the kids wear in the Family Circus comics.

Eagles Mere is an old Victorian resort community dating back to the late 1800s. We stopped to look at the toboggan run that is now closed for the season. The town closes off a long street that slopes down to the lake.

When we walked down and took a look at the run I could hardly believe the scale. The track ran far out onto the lake and I couldn’t imagine how fast it would be. I would have loved this as a kid. I might even like it now.

The ride home took us through a lot of still melting mountainsides, reminders of how much more severe the weather would be here. Once we emerged into the Susquehanna River Valley the thermometer was pushing 70F as we ran towards home. The Vespa GTS 250ie purred along the 43-mile freeway segment of US 220 at 70mph. Not the most relaxing way to ride but nice to know the scooter is capable of high speed travel for sustained periods of time.  It was nice to get out and put 205 miles of road underneath me.

It’s gotten cold and wet again but I’ve had a taste of warm weather and longer rides. Anything less will be frustrating.

A Simple Elegance

For me riding is both simple and elegant. Each aspect of the machine and the ride constructing a satisfying experience. It’s reflected in the simple construction of the picture I made the last time I stopped at Barnes and Noble. Every element essential but nothing extra. That’s what I pursue on my scooter in the sticks. It’s not a perfect path but one that generally leads me where I want to go.

Pizza is simple. Especially one that costs $5.. Nothing fancy after a hard day at work. Strap the thing to the back of the Vespa and go. But not until the manager runs out and warns me that all the cheese will run off at that angle.

It didn’t.

A last stop for crab cakes and salad hung simply on the purse hook. That’s right, it’s called a purse hook. I’ve not used it for that yet but it has carried a lot of other stuff. If simplicity is going to go out the window it’s often because of mental triggers like purse hook, Barbie scooter, moped rider, things like that. Or it should I guess. So far I’m impervious to that sort of positive critique.

I’m writing this just after dawn. It’s 54F and crying out for a ride. The weather is changing and spring is approaching. Last night on the way home I stopped to look at the light filtering through the trees. Something is different. The sun is moving. Or my attitude is changing through solar tempering. I’m waiting for my friend Paul to arrive to we can head north. Or east. Somewhere. Anywhere. It’s just good to get out for once when I don’t have to worry about frostbite.

3 Prints Project; March 1, 2009

On Sunday morning Gordon Harkins and I shared our 3 Prints Project work at Saint’s Café. I arrived with contact sheets from two new rolls of film and three gelatin silver prints. Gordon surprised me with 24 small prints of the work he plans to include in the Blurb book we’re working on that portraits the first year of work. His photographs are quiet, complex reflections of how he sees the world. In my opinion.

My first print this week was made during a walk with my dog. As she approaches her 16th birthday the image has an uneasy feeling for me.

The photograph of the house was made in Lewistown, Pennsylvania as I waited for my youngest daughter at the train station. A woman emerged from the house with baleful looks for the camera and me. In character I sheepishly put the camera down and missed the best shot.

Kim was paging through books at Barnes and Noble. I still enjoy photographing her but I have lost speed in responding to subjects. I have trouble tripping the shutter fast enough.  Often by the time I am ready the moments have passed.

Practice makes perfect.