2009 Kawasaki KLR 650: First Evening Ride

A gray, wet day seems an appropriate backdrop for a ride on a Kawasaki KLR 650, the next bike in the New Wheels in the Sticks project. The KLR has been on my mental radar for a long time as a sort of utilitarian do anything motorcycle. The Jeep of the two wheeled world. There is something satisfying in thinking there is nothing I could not do or place I could not go. Thanks to Kissell Motorsports I'll have the opportunity over the next few days to take the Kawasaki out on the road and see how it feels.

There wasn't much time to ride today, just a long loop around the valley to get a feel for how the big machine handles. I say big because the first thing I noticed was how tall the KLR is. I mean really tall. At just under 6'3" tall I felt like I was barely able to touch the ground. In reality I had no problem flat-footing the bike but it felt pretty high for the first 20 minutes until I became accustomed to it.

The past two bikes I've ridden had fuel injected engines and I have gotten used to just pressing the starter button and go. The KLR wanted me to give it a little fuel before it would start. And it wants me to open the fuel valve and even give it a choke when cold. The perplexed look on my face passed quickly as memories flooded back.

Like each new machine I ride I find a lonesome road to test out the brakes and stopping characteristics. In addition to clean, positive braking it was nice to know the aggressive tread on the tires worked well on the damp and wet pavement. The 650cc single cylinder thumper engine was a new experience. I intentionally didn't use my normal foam earplugs so I could get used to the sounds the KLR makes. I like to have some idea of what sounds right and what doesn't.

Didn't really have time for much riding this evening but I'm planning to leave early tomorrow to see how I like this big, tall motorcycle out in the sticks.

2009 Triumph Bonneville: Image, Myth and Ride

Why do I like this motorcycle so much?

I had to make a picture of the two of us to figure it out. Image. Part of the fascination with the Triumph Bonneville is the way it looks and the way I think I look with it. Let's say it allows me to pretend a part of me is like some of my boyhood heros on motorcycles. In an alley in downtown State College, Pennsylvania I found a location that reminded me of the urban landscapes that I pictured the Triumph. That's about as rough as it gets here. The back door of the Eddie Bauer store. But that is only part of the fascination with the motorcycle. There is a lot more to it than image and myth.

An early morning ride through familiar terrain gave me a chance to compare solitary riding on the Triumph Bonneville to the experience on my Vespa. My intent on the scooter is an unfolding of tension and disposal of noise gathered in my head through the week, an ongoing meditation on two wheels and I was anxious to determine whether I could achieve the same thing on the Triumph. Despite it's ability to charge down the road it was perfectly able to deliver a relaxed journey, a simple flight along these rural roads. Turning off the road onto a farm lane just to admire the morning light may not be typical Triumph riding fare but in a hectic world it is nothing short of magical. For me. Thundering down the road can wait until another day.

Final thoughts on the Triumph Bonneville. I want one. It's simple, elegant construction embraces my desire for a simpler life. The classic lines and design trigger the same motorcycle wanderlust now that I felt as a teenager wishing I owned something like this. On the road it handled flawlessly and never left me feeling unsure or unsafe. While it's power is seductive and speed deceptive a bit of mental adjustment on my part as a rider made this motorcycle mine to command.

Did I say I want one?

I returned the bike to Kissell Motorsports and I have to admit the childish part of my brain kept imagining Craig Kissell saying, "Aww heck, just keep it a while longer..." But there are more motorcycles to experiment with and so little time...

A Vicarious Ride on a Classic Triumph

Riding in Alabama - 74 Triumph Bonneville..still running strong from Casey Lee on Vimeo.

Stumbled on this video completely by accident. Took me back to the sounds and sights of my youth. Thought it was worth sharing...

Prisoner of Light

I remain photographically constricted because of my belief that dramatic light is an essential ingredient for a good photograph. In practice I photograph in all kinds of light and in the rainbow picture I made last week on a ride into town I see evidence that dramatic light does not make a dramatic picture. My brain tells me that good pictures are everywhere and do not require any formula of essential elements. But whispering deeper is some stilted, stunted core level belief in dramatic light. Perhaps it is a result of early exposure to Ansel Adams and Edward Weston. Wherever it came from it has an effect on my decision making. I am a prisoner of my own beliefs.

On clear days I often leave early to catch the low light which can render objects and landscapes in more dramatic fashion than the middle part of the day. I'm certain this plays a partial role in my habit of riding at dawn. Even if I am not making pictures I want to see the world change. Color and texture change rapidly in the morning. Spaces are more clearly defined. Last Saturday morning I put my Mamiya 7 camera in the Vespa and headed towards the mountains to make photographs. Not far from home I stopped to look at the road and the brightness beginning to consume it. The little point and shoot Canon camera makes recording these moments simply as my own visual sketching.

The transition from motorcycle back to scooter was invisible. The ride of the Vespa is plush; even on gravel. I've become more accustomed to riding on these forest roads and always find a sense of quiet satisfaction being able to move beneath the trees. And it didn't matter if I was not inclined to bring out the film camera.

Those of you familiar with Rothrock State Forest may recognize the switchbacks on the road to Little Flat. It's narrow and can be unnerving when the inattentive driver comes barreling down the hill in a truck or SUV. I would not want to attempt any off-road riding here.

Several stops to search for non-scooter pictures didn't reveal anything I cared to spend film on. The process was underway and by the next day had finished a new roll of Ilford black and white film. After digging through my desk I now have a total of four rolls awaiting the darkroom treatment. On this day though my thoughts turned (as always) to food. The Pump Station Cafe was only a few miles away.

Riding a scooter tends to offer some parking alternatives that a motorcycle does not. My Vespa is small enough to park right in front of the cafe on a little sidewalk. It looks like it belongs there. At least that's what I tell myself. While eating I jot notes on an index card about my troubles getting my head back into shooting pictures. I don't count the things I do for Scooter in the Sticks or at work. I judge myself, perhaps wrongly, by the photographs I make solely for myself. I hit these dry spells now and again and I just need to wade through them. Get past my thinking and get closer to doing.

And quit being a prisoner of light.

2009 Triumph Bonneville: Heading West Just After Sunrise

My friend Paul Ruby and I were on the road early with plans to ride west towards Clearfield to find a new place to for breakfast. I have begun to wonder how many riders make a ritual of riding to breakfast. Something like private pilots and the 200 dollar cheeseburger. A short stop at the Sunoco station on North Atherton Street where Paul could get gas for his motorcycle gave me a chance to admire the Triumph Bonneville. Again. In the light from the rising sun it just seemed to glimmer. Really. Well, I did do some interpretation in Photoshop but the bike does look good. I've dreamt about motorcycles that look like this. And so far it has lived up to my expectations.

The Bonneville is at home on the highway. Every bike or scooter I've ever ridden seems to have a riding sweet spot. A speed where the bike is completely relaxed, a mid-ground where you don't notice you're going slow and you don't notice you're going fast. For the Triumph it's between 50 and 60mph. (In my decidedly non-scientific estimation). Riding my Vespa GTS250ie I find it right around 45mph. Your results may vary.

I pulled over just as we approached the top of Bald Eagle Ridge on Interstate 99. I made Paul back his motorcycle up so I could admire the unobstructed view of the road and sky. This motorcycle loves this kind of road.

Another stop for a picture along US322 as it begins to rise into the Allegheny Plateau. With the clouds passing over the hills and valleys this area looks as much like parts of Virginia and North Carolina as it does Pennsylvania. My thoughts travel momentarily to imagined rides on the Blue Ridge Parkway.

The weather has been unusually cool this summer and the feeling of fall hits me even though it's July. When I left the house it was 59 degrees Fahrenheit and I was wearing my winter riding jacket with a liner. I love this kind of weather but it isn't fondly embraced by riders who like to travel unencumbered by too much clothing.

My riding style generally consists of slow, slower and stop. Stop for pictures. Stop to look around and just breathe in the world. It took me awhile to tame the Triumph's desire to go fast. While it does not have a huge engine it is entirely within it's power to go fast. It's deceptive and I had to keep a close eye on the speedometer to make sure the State Police would not want to take a closer look at the bike too.

If you want to see pictures on a ride you just have to go slow otherwise you will rush by all but the biggest landscape views. And by slow I mean 35mph. It's easier at 25mph and easier yet at 15mph. With a little practice and experimentation with the gearbox I was able to find a photo speed sweet spot. I don't ride that way all the time but some places call out for attention. So it's nice to know how to make myself and the bike comfortable.

Paul pulled into a gas station in Coalport for fuel and a chance to show off his back stretching regimen. No matter how many times I witness the ritual something just seems wrong. If you ever run into Mr. Ruby as him to tell you about the time he was stretching his back in McDonalds with a pack of Boy Scouts present. Then you'll understand.

Adding fuel to the Triumph is easy except for the trepidation of splashing gas on the mirror finish paint job. I was extremely careful but without knowing how much gas was in the tank or how much it would hold I went slow. At two gallons I stopped and replaced the shiny chrome gas cap without so much as a drop of gas to mar the finish. Have I said how pretty this black motorcycle is?

The search for food was not going well. Phillipsburg was a bust as was Oseeola Mills, Houtzdale, Madera and Irvona. By the time we stopped in Coalport my stomach was done riding. I was on autopilot to a known breakfast way station near Prince Gallitzin State Park in Flinton, Pennsylvania. Sir Barney's.

Sir Barney's has standard, reliable breakfast fare which is exactly what I needed. Eggs, bacon, potatoes, juice and toast. It's like my riding security blanket. The only meal of the day I can count on to make me whole and not put me to sleep. Maybe that's why I tend to ride in the morning.

Riding with a trusted riding partner like Paul has it's advantages over riding alone. You get to experience things twice. Once through your eyes and once through someone else's. While I was happy as a clam to have food he was concerned with the lack of interest the wait staff seemed to pay us. We got everything we needed but we didn't get characters. There was nothing memorable about the people working there, no fodder for stories or humorous anecdotes. As Paul commented, "They're 9 to 5ers.".

Ours were the only motorcycles in the parking lot. The Triumph and Harley looked good out there. And I was glad to be able to keep my eye on things. I'm still a bit apprehensive with Craig Kissell's generosity in loaning me motorcycles. I imagine a phone call..."I parked it right outside the diner. I was only there for 20 minutes. It's a family place. I can't imagine who took it...."

So I keep my eye on things. While I'm riding and when it's parked. Maybe that's why Kissell Motorsports trusts me with their motorcyle.

By the time I arrived at the home of my inlaws we had ridden 100 miles. The Triumph looked as good in their driveway as it did in mine. I think it would look good in anyone's driveway. It's just a cool, classic machine if your interests lean in that direction. As much as I would have liked to ride all day adult responsibilities beckon me home. Besides, there still was another 70 miles of riding ahead to help ease the pain...

I am completely comfortable with the Triumph Bonneville. The transition from scooter to motorcycle was effortless for me. Muscle memories of shifting motorcycles in the 1970s returned and I was at home astride this machine. I can't say enough good things about the Triumph so I'll just stop for now.

I have one more post on the Triumph reflecting on a short ride alone through the countryside. Look for that soon.

The Evening Meal

A slow, relaxed evening at home. A big, heavy box on the front porch containing a hammock stand for a Hatteras Hammock went together quickly and I was finally able to test the hammock Hannah got us for Christmas. Last year. Maybe the year before. I'm not one to rush things. After sufficient testing Kim and I decided to get dinner from Duffy's Tavern in Boalsburg. Nothing fancy -- a couple take out cheeseburgers and fries.

A short ride to the tavern and I see these three Ducati's parked out front in the motorcycle only parking area. With the Vespa watching over the motorcycles I talked briefly with three young riders waiting for a table at Duffy's. Seems they will soon be trailering their bikes to the Jersey shore to ride along the ocean at sunrise. Sounds like a fine way to spend time with friends. A fine way to spend time on two wheels.

One more thing to add to my riding list...

I'm working on the next installment about my time on the road with the Triumph Bonneville. Look for it sometime on Thursday.

New Wheels in the Sticks: 2009 Triumph Bonneville

On Friday afternoon I rode out of the parking lot at Kissell Motorsports with the first motorcycle in the New Wheels in the Sticks project -- a black 2009 Triumph Bonneville. This is a classic motorcycle, the one I picture in my head when I hear the word motorcycle. It's what kids draw when they're drawing a motorcycle. It's connected to memories of movies and Steve McQueen. Triumph has long occupied a special place in my imagination. The motorcycle is solid with a strong, deep exhaust sound without being obnoxious. Mentally I knew I wasn't on my Vespa but it took a few miles for my body to realize this new machine did not respond in the same fashion as the scooter.

The pavement was wet from a passing shower and the road surface was slick under my boots. I traveled a quiet route home to experiment with the brakes, weight and handling. Back and forth on an empty stretch of road to check the braking response on the wet road. Another few stops to fully reset my brain to use my right foot for the rear brake instead of my left hand which was now on clutch duty. I spent about 20 minutes evaluating my skills and comfort on the Triumph before heading towards home. It is important for me to take the time to embrace a new machine before any serious or extended riding. I've met riders who have chosen huge motorcycles as their first ride. Or have gone through the Motorcycle Safety Foundation Beginner Riding Course on a 250cc motorcycle and turn around after the course and buy a Goldwing. I like to build up to things. Maybe I'm just nervous about the leap in size and weight from the Vespa. So I was careful and deliberate with the Triumph. Even though Craig Kissell said not to worry about the bike and that he would assume any liability for damage I didn't want to see him cry.

As I write this piece I keep thinking I should remain cool, aloof, objective in my reactions to the Bonneville on that first evening. I tell myself not to gush or say anything stupid. Nothing poetic. Just the facts. One of the first things I noticed was the spartan simplicity of the Triumph. I found myself looking for the clock, ambient temperature and fuel gauges present on my Vespa. I didn't realize how often I my eyes go to them until they weren't there. The Triumph has a speedometer, a blue light for high beams, a small amber light when the fuel is low, and maybe a red light for low oil. That's it. With fuel injection there is no choke or fuel valve. Press the starter button and it starts. Right now. Simple. And without saddle bags you don't have to worry about carrying anything that won't fit in your pockets. At first I was a little bothered by that but by the end of the weekend I really enjoyed not having to think about what I need to take along. My luggage consisted of wallet in my pants pocket, some change in another, a point and shoot camera in my riding jacket pocket and some index cards and a pen in the other. That's it. For recreational day rides where weather will not be an issue it was fine. If this bike were mine I would add saddle bags at least and perhaps a rear topcase. Otherwise how would I haul all the groceries around that I do with the Vespa? Groceries don't really fit though with my image of the Triumph. Yet.

I only rode about 15 miles that first evening but enough to know that I really liked this motorcycle and was looking forward to an early departure the next day. I liked the upright riding position. I like the smooth even power that the fuel injected engined delivered. And I liked the way it handled on the road. And as if the universe was testing the Triumph and my riding skills I had to make a sudden evasive maneuver to avoid plowing into four chickens crossing Main Street in Boalsburg. Anyone can dodge deer and elk. But chickens, that's real adventure.

I'll be posting more pictures and reflections of a longer ride on the Triumph in a few days. Stay tuned.

New Wheels in the Sticks

Kissell Motorsports owner Craig Kissell has given me the keys to the candy store. Or so it seems to me.

Craig has offered me whatever I want to ride from his fine establishment and treat them like my own. At least temporarily. A chance to try some other machines in the sticks. Or maybe he was getting tired of seeing the Vespa all the time in pictures. I've been turning things over in my head since we first discussed this back in February and just recently decided to give it a go. Over the coming weeks and months you'll be seeing periodic posts bearing the title New Wheels in the Sticks with stories and photos reflecting my experiences with motorcycles and scooters that are not my Vespa GTS250ie. I'm not sure what to expect but am open to the adventure.

A few words about Kissell Motorsports.

You can find the dealership in State College, Pennsylvania on West College Avenue. It's the kind of place that has a lot of things I like.

Unless I have a specific reason to be there I tend to follow the same pattern in the store. Walk in and absorb the energy, scan the place for familiar faces, and then walk over to the Vespa section. After almost 5 years on a Vespa scooter they have not lost their luster. And Piaggio continues to deliver interesting machines. And colors. Like the Vespa GTS300ie in this picture.

On to the Triumph section, a quick look at helmets and then either a visit to a Kawaski KLR or off to the back where the pre-owned machines live. I'm predictable.

Things get dicey from this point. I glance furtively at the Ducati's for fear that I will be identified as unworthy of entering that section of the store. The Ducati's sit there oozing power. They are seriously imposing. I believe this to be true. I also believe that doughnuts or ice cream are fine for breakfast. I need to make some adjustments and modifications in things.

So Craig and I have worked out an agreement and we are embarking on a new project. Not only is he supportive of me riding his wares he's leaving it up to me to write what I think. I almost feel like a junior moto-journalist. More likely a moto-essayist. As I embark on this journey I'm curious as to what I will find out about myself and motorcycles. And how my obsession with the Vespa will fare in comparison. I'm also going to use this project to reach beyond what I usually do on the scooter and talk to people who ride other things. Find out what makes them tick.

The journey has begun. This past Friday after work I picked up a 2009 Triumph Bonneville. A not so secret love. I'll be posting reflections from four days of temporary ownership soon. And I'm already thinking about what I want to ride next.

Swear an Oath

I swear I will turn off my cellphone when I get in the car.

As much as I grumble about others using their cellphones while driving I use mine too -- kidding myself that it's safe because I have it tucked into the visor on speaker phone.

I read an article in the New York Times this evening that was a bit sobering. The article is called Drivers and Legislators Dismiss Cellphone Risk.

Read it. And better yet turn off your cellphone I guess. I know how easy it is to rationalize it being safe or necessary. A real time saving multitasking life extending invention. I've said those things. I don't believe them anymore. So I'll make a change.

I swear.

Revisited: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

How many riders have a copy of Robert Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance on their bookshelf? How many more, like me, have struggled with the text, the philosophy, and failed to make it to the end of the book? The pages turn easily for me when Pirsig describes the ride, the road and the people he encounters. But I bog down in his discussions of the metaphysics of quality. And I wouldn't finish despite thinking it was a great book. Until now. Until I happened upon Mark Richardson's book Zen and Now.

It felt good to read that Richardson struggled with Pirsig's book just like I did. Many attempts at it, a bit farther through and then bogging down. Zen and Now is Richardson's excellent riding story and interpretation of Pirsig's book. After I finished reading it I picked up Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, read it from cover to cover, and got it. Knew what it meant and decided again what a great book it is.

Richardson decides to ride the same route, visit the same places as much as possible as Pirsig and his son did that summer in the summer of 1974. His book not only provides the kind of vicarious experience that a good writer and rider can produce it does an amazing job putting the Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance in a context that means something to my life and riding. Many riding books and stories push me as a reader to the sidelines as the author plays out the story on a stage. Richardson does something different. He brings me onto the stage and I feel as if I am part of the trip.

I don't often recommend books but this one is special. Check out Richardson's Web site for more information or click the Amazon link below to buy it. (If you do I may make my first 25 cents from Scooter in the Sticks!)

Kick Starting the 3 Prints Project

Some of you might have wondered what has happened with the 3 Prints Project. Due to circumstances beyond my control, my dog has been eating my prints, there was a storm, no a flood, a tornado, locusts, it's not my fault that I haven't been shooting any film.

Well, I have shot some but have not ventured into the darkroom. Summer is a busy time for me and I just haven't had time. And once I step away from the routine I am one difficult boy to get back in gear. But Gordon and I have continued to meet almost every Sunday morning and I am ready to start up again. So perhaps this time next week there will be more real live silver prints. None of this digital nonsense...

It is nice to take the scooter out on a sunny morning for a short ride. This one to the Pump Station is really short since it is less than a mile from my house. But after photo talk, bagel, juice, tea and a scone I had plans for a short ride before tackling some garden work.

No Vespa pictures on the ride. As lovely as things were the sunshine leaves me cold photographically sometimes. I did marvel at this lone tree though. I have a lot of lone tree pictures.

This evening I had to ride into town and parked in this lovely Motorcycle Only space. Not usually my first choice of parking in town but always nice to have. And on a Sunday afternoon there are few machines to crowd me.

All that's left to do this evening is drop my Ford Ranger off for the Pennsylvania Safety Inspection. The last time my truck visited the mechanic it cost me $2800 dollars. I expect to get off cheap this time!

Evening Rapture

It's not always about the Vespa and riding...

An evening in the garden with Kim. Both of us with small digital cameras sketching the surroundings. We can both get lost in the image making process. It's interesting how differently we see the same place.

This season has been exceptional for plants. The temperatures have remained mild and there has been plenty of moisture for growth. Our garden quickly becomes a jungle of plant growth if neglect it long.

Bluebells have appeared likely seeded from birds that visit. As the light fades the flowers glow.

Last night we visited the People's Choice Festival in Boalsburg, Pennsylvania. After all the artists and crafts people closed up shop for the night we remained to shoot more pictures. Kim has been experimenting with a new Panasonic Lumix camera. Her photographic approach is less constricted than my own. She isn't concerned about all the "rules" that I learned over the years that can choke away creative exploration. She had a show recently of collage and photography and sold more photographs there that I have in my entire career. I can learn a lot from her.

The Vespa did enter the picture late in the evening when we decided some ice cream was required. A ride in cool night air under a full moon. And a return home with Moose Tracks and Peanut Butter Cup.

Evening rapture...

What Price Freedom?

Independence Day.

I’m on the road going nowhere for no reason other than my own enjoyment. Despite the fuel sipping economy of the Vespa I know in the long run this probably isn’t a sustainable model. Someday it might not make sense to burn gasoline for recreation. Maybe.

On Independence Day I wondered if riding was an expression of freedom or merely a distraction from the real meaning. Military themes and observances are common here. A monument in remembrance of one of the first unit organized in the Continental Army. Maybe this has something to do with the meaning of Independence Day.

Tanks and other implements of war stand as silent reminders to the price paid for the landscape in which we can express our independence.  The price is hard to comprehend.

Markers stand among the gravestones in the older cemeteries indicating those citizens who served or fell in wars and conflicts throughout American history. When I think of July 4th I often imagine the battles so many endured or died in to gain and protect our independence. At times I feel I am not living up to my responsibility to protect it. It seems like there is a responsibility that comes with independence off the battlefield that makes demands everyday. It’s probably more than imagining I can do whatever I want.

Probably.

Riding stirs my thoughts and I wrestle with the meaning of Independence Day. As I write this I believe the meaning is clear. Freedom is change, or rather the courage to change. That was true in 1776 and remains so today. The world changes. Independence might be more a flow than a point. Maybe it mirrors what I like about riding --- the journey is the important part and not the destination.

Here’s to all of you and best wishes for your own celebrations of Independence Day and hopes that it stays with you every day.