The Streets of Cleveland

Solitude isn't found in a city. Urban riding is more combat than pleasure. A motorcycle is the last thing I'd want on the pavement in Cleveland.

I was wrong.

Standing on a transit platform in the middle of Euclid Avenue I could feel the draw of the pavement. Walking in the city revealed endless pathways for exploration. Even in the heaviest traffic I could less streets less traveled.

Too bad my Vespa was far away. For now I'll make myself content watching other riders on the streets of Cleveland.

-- Posted from my iPhone

Letters from Cleveland

Junior is in a canine boarding facility certain I have abandoned him and my Vespa sits in the garage waiting patiently for it's next outing.

Myself, well, I'm sitting in a hotel lobby in Cleveland wondering what to do for the next few hours before an afternoon appointment. I have my Leica M6 and a lot of film. I have my journal. I have my iPhone. And I have a dozen pages of handwritten notes and stories about the BMW F650 GS that had last month. Craig Kissell is probably beginning to wonder if I will ever post on that bike.

The BMW was a different experience than everything else I've ridden. Who would have thought a mere machine would cause a mini crisis of faith...

I'll have time to work them out over the next few days as I post these letters from Cleveland.

-- Posted from my iPhone