It's been almost a month since my last post. By even the most liberal and rationalizing definition I'm a bad blogger. Looking through my Blogger dashboard I see a half dozen drafts of posts I've started but not finished. One show a picture of Junior where the grass is still green. I've no shortage of topics, ideas, or experiences. I just can't find the damn time. And I keep telling myself I have to make time.
Winter is always a challenge for riders, some more than others, and certainly for me. Snow, cold, short days, they just pile up into a mental mindset that makes it difficult to roll the Vespa out of the garage on good days. The above picture was made a couple weeks ago on one of my morning walks with Junior. Thankfully the snow is gone now. Replaced with rain. But not really relevant to being a bad blogger.
Blogging takes time and of late it's been in short supply. The little man has taken much time in training and exercise -- time I used to spend riding and writing. It's worth it though. Right now we're practicing a "Meet the Mayor" exercise.
A pause along the road during a lunchtime ride. Not a common occurrence of late. Still, when it does happen, it usually performs some spiritual magic. I should make more time to ride, especially outside of riding to work. Another should.
A new responsibility at work. The main reason I've become a bad blogger. About a year ago I was tapped to lead a redesign of our college's magazine and have become the new managing editor. My production assistant is holding up one of the mock-up copies from a few weeks ago. The redesign process was far more complicated than I ever imagined and the responsibilities of producing a magazine have pushed the limits of my skill. Like riding in snow.
I've not ridden nearly as often this winter as in the past few winters. Aside from the time constraints I just have not felt like assuming the risk. Nothing to prove, nothing to gain. I still venture out on a semi-routine basis and brave sub-freezing temperatures. A stop on the way home from work at a local park I find more ice on the ground than I expected. But I have not found myself on snow covered roads very often. And that's fine. And I have time for other things.
If there is a driving desire it's to use the camera more than ride the scooter. And that desire has led me back to shooting film and working in the darkroom. Being immersed in digital technology at work leaves little appetite in my free time to do more of it then. It's been nice to process film in D76 and make prints in a tray of Dektol.
The Vespa and camera have reignited work on the 3 Prints Project. Slowly I am returning to that ritual of shooting and printing. Meeting every Sunday morning at Saint's Cafe to look at work is as quietly pleasant as I could ever hope for. The Vespa seldom has trouble getting a space in the free motorcycle parking area.
As much as I enjoy meeting with my friend Gordon and talking photography I really find the drama and stories at a cafe a goldmine for eavesdropping and finding stories to write about. I stood outside the window before leaving a few Sunday's ago and made this picture. Each person like an actor on a stage.
Looking over my bagel towards the young couple at the next table I could tell it was their first time together. Maybe a first date. Their attention and focus on each other was amazing. With an ability like that to focus their attention so keenly they would make good riders. Or photographers.
I wanted to walk over and see what was holding this man's attention. He seldom looked away from his reading even when drinking or eating. I think about what holds my attention that way. It's been a long time since I've read a comic book.
Cafe's are great places for a photographer. It's warm. There's food. And no one seems to pay attention to someone with a camera. I probably would think twice at a Starbuck's in California is someone was carrying a firearm. Or maybe it would just be a different sort of photograph.
It's always a pleasure to see what your photographic friends decide to share. Gordon showed up with this portrait he made of me at the cafe and a picture of the Vespa 300 I was riding awhile back.
Kim making pictures in the car last fall on a trip to Altoona. Photography plays a role in both our lives. For me as a way to pay the rent and for her as an extension of her art work. She never fails to amaze me with her ability to see the world around her. I tend to dismiss or overlook situations that she is able to mine gold. She's preparing for a show right now and I have been helping edit her pictures. Like many artists she can be quite critical of her work. I sit and look at her prints and say to myself, "I wish I shot that". I'm a craftsman. She's an artist. That's why she was able to come up with "Scooter in the Sticks" as the name of this blog all those years ago.
Anyways, that's the not so quick update. Full speed ahead!
The time has arrived to check out one of the new BMW motorcycles at Kissell Motorsports. I was going to wait until the weather was a bit warmer but when Craig Kissell send an email asking when I was going to take a GS for a ride what could I do? So I am starting with a BMW F 650 GS. This one is brand new. Zero miles on the odometer. I get nervous being the first one to take something out on the road. But who am I to complain? A quick check of the bike and the controls revealed a big difference from the usual tools on my Vespa. This bike has ABS brakes, heated grips, built in port for electrics, and a lot more. 
I didn't really have time for any riding today. Just a less than direct ride home from work with a few stops to check out the motorcycle. The turn signals took a couple of practice runs to reprogram my brain from the one button all function switch on the Vespa to the three button self canceling function of the BMW. A smarter person could make the adjustment on the road. I had to pull over and look at the controls for everything to make sense. A little side trip up a gravel road did the trick. This motorcycle is smooth, quiet, and seems to pull no matter what speed I'm traveling or what gear I'm in. My kind of performance.
Home appeared too quickly. I stopped the motorcycle at the end of the driveway being cautious with this shiny new machine. On the Vespa I would have zipped right between our cars and on to the garage.
