All Fog, All the Time

It was suggested in a recent post on 2StrokeBuzz that it must always be foggy here in Pennsylvania since so many of my pictures are made in that magical atmosphere. Kim made the above picture through the window of our VW Jetta as we traveled to Altoona yesterday. We had just come out of some fog and there was more ahead. The weather has been strange this summer and perhaps responsible for the increase in fog. It is definitely is responsible for the emergence of Late Blight in tomatoes hitting tomato growers in Pennsylvania -- the same blight responsible for the Irish Potato Famine of the 19th century. But I digress....

I love how the world looks in the fog. I feel the tug of photographic attraction when I wake to a fog-shrouded world (not talking intoxicants here). As a rider, I make a more considered response before venturing forth on the highway in fog. I made the above picture last weekend while riding the Piaggio MP3-250. The fog varied between what you see in the picture and slightly more dense. Moisture build-up on my visor didn't help. The decision to ride was based on knowing that traffic would be light and people driving at reasonable speeds. So I decided I could manage the risks.

My friend Paul snapped a shot of me making the previous picture. Not all roads have such bright lines and generous berms. They help tremendously in fog to keep things safe. Or at least create a road landscape in which to operate safely.

For photography buffs reading I don't often make my pictures while seated. I usually stop and look around for the good shot. But this one was a no brainer.

On another foggy morning a few weeks ago I made this portrait of the Kawasaki KLR 650 on a quiet, low traffic road. Since this is Happy Valley most people travel intelligently in these conditions. But I remain vigilant for out of town drivers...

Parting thoughts about riding in fog: Carefully judge the risk to be assumed. Gauge traffic, speed, road conditions, visibility, riding skills and experience, and apply all that to your own equation of how much risk you are willing to take on the road. There is always a possibility that things can go wrong on the road regardless of what you are driving or riding. It's just that it can be worse on two wheels.

And I always caution people about how slow I am going generally because I am out looking for pictures. At the speeds I travel I usually have plenty of time to process what's in front of me. And with eyes keenly aware of what's behind me as well I feel comfortable in the fog...

Demystifying the Piaggio MP3

Craig Kissell suggested I take the Piaggio MP3-250 for the weekend. He must sense what I am ready to ride. Or ready to accept. So far each motorcycle or scooter has been a sort of minor revelation. The only problem I see having developed is that the next time I visit Kissell Motorsports I am going to want to try the MP3-400 and 500. (Note to Craig: Please reserve one of those big MP3's for me please)

From the first time I read about the Piaggio MP3 I began collecting a series of misperceptions. Until I finally had a chance to take it for a long ride last weekend I didn't realize how completely I misunderstood this machine. I was wrong about how it worked, about why someone might choose one, and most of all about the stability of the MP3.

Stability. Looking at the extra front wheel I assumed the MP3 would have superior stability. It does. On the road the thing feels glued to the road. On rough pavement or gravel you almost don't notice any change with both wheels independently navigating what comes along. In turns the MP3 leans smoothly like a two-wheeled vehicle but has the advantage of an extra wheel and suspension system to keep things surprisingly surefooted. Riding along PA Route 45 at 60mph the MP3 didn't flinch in the air blast of passing trucks. Two-wheeled motorcycles and scooters can be buffeted about badly in situations like that but the MP3 was solid and did not seem inclined to be blown off it's chosen course. Nice. Very nice.

So where was I wrong about stability? I was wrong in my expectations of how stable the MP3 would be at slow speeds--I believed it would not easily fall over. I feel stupid admitting this but in my head the MP3 was going to be my ride of choice in old age when my legs were weak and balance fading because the MP3 would stand up by itself. After all you can lock the front wheels in the upright position and it won't fall over. To reinforce my perceptions I look to a trip by two gentleman in their 70s across America on MP3s sponsored by Piaggio. You can see the results on the Web site No Age Limit.

This idea of stability went so far in my head that I even considered the MP3 a suitable first ride for my wife rather than having her learn the more difficult process of riding on two wheels. What can I say? I was wrong. I'm an idiot. Just follow along a bit and I'll explain.

I planned to meet my friend Paul in town and ride to some exotic breakfast location as part of a ritualistic riding habit. Coming up Calder Alley on a Saturday morning means you will be faced with trucks blocking your progress as they unload their wares. The MP3 travels unimpeded past them and allows me to stop in the middle of the road for a picture. When you stop you can lock the front wheels with a touch of a button. A blinking yellow light becomes a constant yellow informing you that the wheels are now locked and the MP3 will stand up all by itself. As you slow down to stop the blinking light comes on the moment you are traveling slow enough to lock the wheels. With a bit of practice and coordination you can engage the lock without ever putting your feet down.

For an experienced rider used to balancing at slow speeds and manipulating a variety of controls it's a pretty simple process. But for a new or inexperienced rider it just gets confusing. Do it wrong and you are sitting there thinking the wheels are locked and they aren't and down you go. And even if you do have them locked don't touch the throttle. A little inadvertent twist automatically disengages the lock and if you are moving---down you go. I've read about lot's of new MP3 owners dropping their new machines. I could never understand this until I took one for a ride.

My advice--don't touch the wheel locking button at all until your are completely comfortable riding the MP3 without it. Then introduce the wheel lock.

Paul and I left and after a bit of waffling on my part in terms of route we headed south out of town with plans to travel over Pine Grove Mountain. Fog was heavy in part of the valley and one of the less traveled routes out of town was closed for construction. As I stopped at the Road Closed sign Paul swung past me on his BMW and disappeared in the fog on the other side of the sign. So I twisted the throttle on the MP3 and introduced it to life as a scofflaw. Fortunately there were no pits to fall into. Just a smoothly graded bed of gravel awaiting truckloads of asphalt. The MP3 was unfazed by the gravel.

By the time we were over the mountain and traveling along the backroads I was completely enamoured by the MP3. The 249cc engine had plenty of power for these roads. Choosing one of the bigger MP3s, the 400 or 500, would expand performance and make freeway riding simple.

Paul and I stopped for breakfast just east of Huntingdon along US Route 22 at the Side Street Cafe and Deli. It's hidden off the road and not easy to see. I caught it out of the corner of my eye as we rode by and made a point to turn around and see what fare the local eatery offered.

No surprises at breakfast other than the prices. Low. Paul wondered aloud how they could stay in business. I didn't care to have that question answered and focused on enjoying the bounty provided.

For me a big part of the enjoyment of riding is discovery. Sometimes things about myself but more often new places I've not visited before. We managed to find a narrow road running through gaps in the mountains that offered little traffic, mostly fresh pavement, and a chance to see a lot of natural scenery. The kind of things that can recharge my battery.

I suppose the search isn't the same for everyone. While I looked for new views and scenery Paul searched for a cell signal for his iPhone. Different strokes.

Looking at the picture above I'm not sure what I miss more as I write. Being out in the world or riding the MP3. Despite having a lot of ideas dispelled when it came to this Piaggio product I quickly became comfortable with this scooter and found myself imagining life with this being the only ride available. While I like a lot of things I wasn't finding myself upset at the prospect. There is a lot to like about the MP3 as a machine to support recreational rides and as a daily commuting and transportation ride. It's superior stability on the road is a big advantage in my mind as I think about gravel, manure, rain, snow and other elements working against traction on the road. And the locking front wheels I at first thought of as a safety hazard and then a novelty now seems useful in a variety of ways, not the least of which is how it affords quick dismounts for taking pictures.

The Piaggio MP3 is a completely functional machine. The instrument cluster shows a lot of information including a variety of digital displays available at a touch of a button. Add to that the generous built in storage capacity and my scooter hauling abilities suddenly seem anemic.

And it's styling and looks has started to grow on me. While it doesn't look like a motorcycle or scooter it embodies the best handling of them both. And it's definitely worth a look especially if you are looking for an all purpose machine.

2009 Vespa GTS300 Super: A Beginner's Ride?

Ideas and attitudes towards scooters are wide ranging. One common notion is scooters aren't suitable for serious riding. Beginner bikes. Glorified toys to play with in the neighborhood. Perhaps even ride to work if it's not too far. My guess is that most of these ideas come from a lack of direct experience riding scooters or a nervousness surrounding perceptions associated with scooters. Standing along a slightly misty Linden Hall Road surveying the Vespa most recently on loan from Kissell Motorsports I thought how perfect it is for the meandering secondary roads found throughout central Pennsylvania. Like all the Vespa scooters I've ridden it is solid, stylish and easy to ride. For a beginner it's a great way to hone the skills necessary to manage yourself on the road. And once you're on one you'll realize it's capable of a lot more than you think. Like riding with the big dogs.

That's what a Vespa GTS300 Super can do if given the chance. A couple months ago I was at Kissell Motorsports talking to a gentleman who was looking at a Can-Am Spyder, one of those big three wheeled motorcycles. He explained he was looking at the 100 plus horsepower machine for his wife. "She's never ridden before and I'm not sure she'll be able to manage on two-wheels." Thinking that the Spyder may be a bit imposing for a first time rider I inquired about a Vespa. With a concerned look and shake of his head he uttered, "I'm a BMW rider.". There were a lot of ways to read our brief interaction but I think what he was getting at was he needed his wife to have something to keep up with his motorcycle. After three days with the new Vespa GTS300 Super I can attest to it's ability to keep up with anything at any posted speed limit in Pennsylvania if need be. Or in the surrounding states for that matter. While not anyone's first choice for a long distance cruiser the Vespa is an excellent road companion for any rider interested in weekend rides through the countryside. Add to it's utterly useful functionality as a commuter vehicle and an around town errand transport the scooter is pretty amazing.

I've been riding a Vespa GTS250 for a couple years now and was anxious to see how the bigger machine compared. Looking at both the casual observer would have trouble telling them apart without the nameplates or knowledge of some of the color components specific to the 300. The engine sounds slightly deeper in tone but hardly noticeable considering how quiet all the Vespa scooters are. On the road it only took a few miles to know where the real difference lies -- the Vespa GTS300 Super has more pulling power through its entire speed range. Twist the throttle and it accelerates whether you are standing still or going 50mph. The extra 50cc's makes a difference. It was particularly noticeable on hills. The 250 is no slouch but the 300 gives a useful bit of extra power.

Thinking about the gentleman seeking something for his wife I could not help but think again that a scooter like this would be a great choice for a first ride. Less likelihood of a big motorcycle sitting unused in the garage because a new rider never really gets comfortable with something too big. Introducing a spouse to the riding life for the first time may yield more positive results with a Vespa.

Morning fog was in the forecast. I like to know what to expect when I depart on Saturday morning. An early departure allowed for some time to experiment with the new Vespa's handling. Familiar, frequently territory still beckons for one more photograph. The white Vespa makes a fine subject with classic lines.

I made plans to ride with my friend Paul -- he on his Harley and me on the Vespa.

Not far from the University Park Airport we pulled off the road to make a few pictures. I'm grateful that Paul will still ride with me considering how often I stop to take pictures. If he was not a serious photographer himself I suspect our riding friendship would have ended a long time ago. I've found a Vespa to be a near perfect photography platform. Easy to pull over almost anywhere and put it up on the centerstand or make sudden and narrow U-turns.

I write a lot about the joys of riding alone. But I do appreciate sharing unexpected turns on the road with someone at times. Looking through the viewfinder the empty road needed something. I asked Paul if he needed to stretch his back.

The Vespa GTS 300's power shows going up hills. Acceleration is improved over my GTS250 as well as power throughout the speed range. After taking my pictures the Vespa raced up the winding road over the mountain and into the Bald Eagle Valley.

Everyone knows that food is an important part of riding. A goal and an excuse. This morning was no different and Paul and I found ourselves breakfast at the Unionville Cafe.

Without any genes to energize culinary adventure tendencies I order my usual hearty breakfast. Having such simple tastes means I am seldom disappointed almost guaranteeing an enjoyable ride.

Near the top of the Allegheny Plateau in the Moshannon State Forest under bright sunlight I could look across the fog filled valley towards home. Reaching this point brough the Vespa GTS300 through miles of twisting roads. The steering is tighter and the scooter feels more sure footed than the 250 I normally ride. That combined with the extra power made for an easy ride in this terrain.

Along the lake at Black Moshannon State Park. Paul is trying to get me to ride off into the woods for a picture or park the scooter at the end of a small wooden dock. In both cases I see a phone call to Kissell Motorsports explaining why I was off-road with the Vespa or asking how to get water out of the crankcase. Besides, I didn't see Paul pushing his Harley out on the dock.

One last stop moving back across the plateau towards home. The Vespa performs well and I think about what it can't do. Not much really. It's more a matter of degree of specialty than not actually being able to do anything. I've ridden my smaller Vespa on the freeway for hundreds of miles. I've travelled in cities and throughout the countryside. In 100 degree heat and at -15 degree cold. On dry pavement, wet pavement, dirt, gravel, snow and ice. The Vespa is a great machine for a beginner and will allow for lots of growth. It's a gem around town but can run with the big dogs too if invited. And the expertise acquired on the scooter translates fine to a bigger, more powerful motorcycle if that's where your path goes.

I'm not sure if that fellow got his wife the Can-Am Spyder or not but I really think the Vespa would have been the better choice. Get your husband or wife a scooter. Ride with them. Show them the ropes. Who knows where it will take you.

The Return of the Vespa

It felt like I getting in a clown car. The tiny scooter. I could hardly believe I was thinking that when I got back on the Vespa minutes after returning a Kawasaki KLR 650. The nature of the KLR kept my shoulders spread and my legs extended more fully while riding. The close, compact riding position of the GTS seemed almost shocking and a rush of thoughts appeared in my head that scooter riding was finished, spoiled by the recent riding of motorcycles. For a few moment scooter innocence and simplicity abandoned me as I rode towards home.

It didn't take long to find my place on the Vespa. A few rides to work, a few errands and the he earnest utility of the scooter becomes apparent. By Thursday morning I was back in the groove as I headed south of town towards Rock Springs.

Still can't pass up an interesting path. A photographic treasure could lurk that way. With corn over eight feet tall there are a lot of mysterious farm lanes around. The scooter readily runs along the gravel lanes at slow, explorer speeds. I sacrifice a few extra minutes to check around a few bends in the corn.

Another quick stop at Gate D of the Penn State Ag Research Center to survey the for for pictures. It had become a uniform grey with little subject matter to give the fog any personality. Disappointed I ride on towards my morning work assignment.

Ag Progress Days begin next week and 40-50 thousand people will arrive to check out the latest agricultural innovations in machines, management, livestock and more. I've ridden out to help set lights for one of the exhibit buildings. A day of physical labor will remind me of the current status of my body.

I admire how you can get away with far more parking options with a scooter than you can with a motorcycle. I see them around town parked in little places behind utility poles, odd spaces in parking lots, next to bike racks, etc. One definite advantage of the smaller scooters. My Vespa GTS250 is right on the edge of being too big to play invisible.

The Vespa has returned to my riding life and the clown car has reappeared as a real machine capable of real travel. And it delivers more fun than I have a right to expect. If my scooter had a name I think I would owe it an apology...

A Wedding

The day arrived. My oldest daughter was getting married. This story has nothing to do with riding. Well, almost nothing.

I did ride the Triumph Speed Triple to Portfolio in Boalsburg at 8am last Saturday morning to shoot a picture of her having her hair done before the 10:30am ceremony. It would be the only riding I would do that day but I suppose one has to make sacrifices for their children. And I earned the right to not be the photographer save for a few snapshots I made with a little point-and-wait camera. It was a nice day.

Time flies. Seems like yesterday that I held my little girl in a warm bath minutes after she was born. A few months ago she was being fitted for a wedding gown that languished in the store most likely because few women wanted or could wear such a long dress. It reminded me of Cinderella.

Hannah endured a few pictures while she and the stylist worked to figure out what to do. I didn't stay for the entire session and would wait until later that morning to see the results.

The wedding took place in Eisenhower Chapel on the University Park campus of Penn State. Dwight D. Eisenhower laid the cornerstone of the chapel some time after he finished with World War II.

I photographed two weddings their myself back in the 1970s and it has remained largely unchanged to the casual observer. A Bosendorfer grand piano has replaced the more pedestrian one that was there in the 70s. I sat watching Hannah and Jason enter marriage in a simple, elegant ceremony. She has been and continues to be a source of pride. Don't ever tell her I said that.

Hannah and Jason invited guests to have dinner at the Gamble Mill in Bellefonte, Pennsylvania. It was perhaps the most pleasant and relaxed wedding I have ever attended which for me is saying a lot. I have to admit that I shy from social events. Aversion or phobia. Chose one. But this was fun. I caught my 3 Prints Project friend Gordon Harkins photographing them. Gordon was the official photographer.

The picture above is an impressionistic interpretation of the bridal couple.

Jason and Hannah paused to let me make a picture of them with the beautiful flowers that were at their ceremony. The only grumbling of the day came from me wishing I had a real camera and didn't have to fiddle with my point and shoot at ISO 1600. I knew I would end up with a noisy image but I planned to tell everyone that the picture is an impressionistic interpretation of the bridal couple.

I only shot 200 pictures so I can't show any more. These are the only ones that turned out. Unfortunately I can only photograph scooters or motorcycles. Hopefully Gordon's pictures will turn out. I'll have to drown my frustration with my pictures and the nostalgic chords being struck seeing my little girl married with a ride. I wish her grandparents could have been with her. Maybe they are.

Until then, congratulations Hannah and Jason. All the best wishes for a fine life together.

And you should think about ditching the mountain bikes and get scooters.

2009 Triumph Street Triple: A Transformation

I'm not adventurous and my habit of pre-judging tends to torpedo new experiences. During the past 35 years at Penn State I can probably count on two hands the number of times I have not ordered chocolate ice cream at the world famous Berkey Creamery. I find something I like and I stick to it. And I draw a lot of conclusions from limited information and experience. It explains why my heart sunk last week when Craig Kissell suggested I try the Triumph Street Triple. I don't ride motorcycles like that. I hate that feet back riding position and I'm not interested in a machine that's described as a streetfighter or referenced along with smoking rear tires and sirens. In my head I knew exactly what this bike was and had no interest in riding one. I know what I like and this wasn't it. While my brain scanned Kissell Motorsports for alternative suggestions what came out of my mouth was, "Sure, I'll take it for a ride.".

Despite being narrow minded about choices I am quick to admit when I'm wrong. Not even a mile down the road I was smiling and telling myself that the Triumph Street Triple was fun. The riding position was different and my big clunky Wolverine boots weren't ideal for the shift level but those were merely minor adjustments waiting to be made. Even though it was fun to ride I was uncertain how it would hold up for a longer ride. By the time the motorcycle was parked in the driveway I was making plans for the next morning.

My body isn't as limber as it once was so before departing the next morning I spent 15 minutes stretching my legs and hips to help me adapt to the riding position which is decidedly more restricted than my Vespa. I was skeptical about how far I could ride comfortably. Since the Street Triple placed me in new, transformational territory, I figured I would add another element to the trip --- I would keep photography to a minimum. No frequents stops to look around and explore. This time I would just ride, chew up miles and have fun solely with the motorcycle. And I managed to spend a minimal amount of time on pictures, usually just making a quick shot when I had to stop to stretch or get gas. The ride was a no frills adventure.

Departure time put me on the road just after sunrise on a clear, mild morning. The first stop was just outside of Centre Hall, Pennsylvania to tie my shoe. And make a quick photo. At this point I was intrigued by the engine and transmission performance. The power was smooth, positive and relentless in any of the six gears available. I was able to manage at slow speeds when necessary and a twist of throttle transformed the Triumph into nothing short of a monster on the road. It's clear this motorcycle is made to move fast and hard down the road. The tires seemed to stick to the road and I could see why some riders may succumb to temptation and enter the riding realm of interest to the State Police.

On PA Route 192 east of Livonia I decide to stop and stretch my legs. I've only gone 32 miles but I'm still concerned that I'm suddenly going to cramp up in the still odd to me riding position. While stopped making the picture a young man in a pickup truck slows to inquire if I require assistance. I'm reminded of how often people have stopped to offer help over the years when I am out in the middle of nowhere making pictures. I guess motorcycles and scooters should be moving, especially so far from town. I give him the thumbs up and he returns the gesture and motors on as I continue on my way east towards the Susquehanna River.

My just ride and not take a lot of pictures plan wasn't perfect. I did putt around (if you call moving slow on the Street Triple putting) R.B. Winter State Park a bit and just had to make a photo as we entered the forest with the morning light streaming in. I'm a sucker for these pictures. Besides, it gave me another chance to see the instrument cluster on the Triumph come to life when I turn on the power--- the fuel system pressurizing and a futuristic sweep of blue lights around the tachometer make me smile as the bike says, "lets go.".

I planned to have breakfast at some yet undiscovered diner along the way. I passed several options in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania preferring to keep riding. I finally pulled off the road at a Pennsylvania Fish Commission launch area on the east side of the Susquehanna River. I needed to sit for a few minutes to to sort out some competing noise in my head. Breakfast was loud, fuel was quiet but persistent, and where I was going was just annoying. Undecided I sat on the Triumph looking for a sign of which way to go as two Harley-Davidson Road Kings roared by. While normally oblivious to other motorcycles on the highway save for offering a friendly wave in passing a light flickered in my head and I pulled onto the road in the direction of the Harleys. Working fast through the gears I closed the distance between us quickly and rode behind them until we reached an intersection where I paused to allow them to regain their independence and privacy. It was an unusual action on my part to chase someone down and I can only attribute it to the power available on this machine. As I sat at the intersection I reevaluated my behavior and made a note that I don't have to act on impulses -- especially on the road.

After adding several gallons of premium fuel to the tank I made a decision to follow the river south towards Harrisburg, a route I've not ridden before, and take the ferry across the river at Millersburg. I acted on impulse again, this time to make an unnecessary photograph of the Triumph outside an abandoned factory in Sunbury. It's how I imagine a Triumph, born in the industrial areas of England where red brick is king. A homage to my idea of a streetfighter.

Another picture, another required stop. This time to replace my gloves for a lighter, cooler, mesh pair of Triumph gloves. With absolutely no luggage space on the Street Triple I carry everything in my pockets -- camera, notebook, pen, extra gloves, cell phone, wallet, and extra ear plugs. Looking down the road at the absence of traffic I am again struck by thoughts of increasing speed. I've reached the breakin mileage point where I can add another 1000 rpms. Then I remember all the deer crossing signs I've passed and the knowledge that Pennsylvania holds the North American record for vehicle deer strikes. As pretty as Bambi is I don't want to run into her. Or him. Managing risk I continue on my way at legal speeds. And still smiling. Any objections I had about this motorcycle have evaporated and I am just enjoying the ride.

No excuses. I just wanted to make a picture. At this point I had ridden almost 90 miles and no longer had any concerns about riding position or seat comfort. Check and check. And I was losing a bit of my will to not make pictures. The photographer in me remains stronger than the rider. So I needed to look at the old Conrail car that someone had gone to the trouble of placing on their property. Couldn't figure out why they would go to such lengths to get it there and then let it decay. Photographically though it was a fine subject.

It was only 8 more miles to Millersburg and the Millersburg Ferry, the only remaining paddle wheel ferry crossing the river. The last time I made use of it was in the 1980s while working on a documentary film about water. On this day the ride across would be purely for pleasure.

The ferry sits along the shore at the bottom of a step dirt drive. I was hoping that the boat would be on my side of the river so I wouldn't have to wait too long to cross. All hope was dashed for a quick crossing when I pulled up and saw a hand written note "Not Working Today". I suppose I should be grateful. The deck looked a little more rickety than I remember and certainly was uneven to park a motorcycle. That sign saved me the unpleasant phone call to Craig Kissell, "You'll never guess where your brand new Triumph is. In the Susquehanna River. Yeah, that's right, the Susquehanna. Can I still have the Scrambler???".

Looking down river towards Harrisburg and the closest bridge at Clarks Ferry I had to make a decision of whether to head south or turn back and go the way I came. Without a map handy I chose to continue south to what had to be a closer crossing. The ferry would have to wait for another day.

Traffic increased as I traveled south and my stomach was making more frequent reminders about breakfast. Without the ferry crossing my time table was a wreck and I wanted to be home before 1pm. The next day was my daughter's wedding and I had some things to think about. So I abandoned plans for a sit down hearty breakfast and opted for the continental cuisine of a Sheetz cheese dog and a bottle of water. Enough fuel for me to get home.

If I had more time I would have chosen a leisurely route home to site see and make more pictures. With the press of time and schedule I chose to follow US Route 322 and see how the Street Triple performed on the 70 mile trip home. The route would provide a limited access busy highway for all but about 7 miles of the trip. While the bike had no problems flowing along with traffic it certainly wasn't at its best being buffeted about with neither fairing or windshield to help diffuse the air disruptions of a steady stream of eighteen wheelers on the road. The bike held it's own but the combination of wind and turbulence demanded a lot of attention at times. It was nice to know that a twist of the throttle would leap the bike forward and beyond things if required.

When I got home I had put just under 200 miles on the Triumph Street Triple, a machine that 24 hours earlier I had no interest in at all. It was a minor transformation and another lesson learned on the road, this one about judging books by their covers. The Street Triple obviously has the power and design to live up to its streetfighter reputation. But I found that it is just as accommodating to a non-streetfighting rider. And it is fun, really fun to ride. It may not be the all-around bike for my daily riding requirements but it may be for someone else who has no interest in farm lanes and forest roads. On the street, it's in its element.