Memories of Christmas; Past and Present

Christmas comes so quickly now, the long anticipation and waiting as the season's magic grew that I felt as a child now seems like a sudden flash, a moment come and gone.  And as I sit here on Christmas eve, snow falling quietly outside, the house warm and quiet as the kids have just left and Kim and I prepare for that long winter's nap, I have a little time to reflect and share best wishes for a fine holiday.

The Vespa still sits in the garage waiting for me to engage in repair actions and return to the cold roads of winter.  Reaching into the archives from a few years ago I retrieved this image of the scooter hauling home a Christmas tree.  After 8 weeks of Vespa free living I have begun to forget how capable that machine is...

Yesterday morning I rode my daughter's Yamaha Vino into town, temperatures hovering around 28F and some snowy reminders that on the ground that my scanning style has to shift into winter riding mode.  On the short trip I identified a half dozen stealthy ice patches that could cause problems for an unsuspecting rider.  

Saint's Cafe feels like home -- a quiet festive atmosphere where people know my name.  On Sunday morning I get to spend some time with friends, talk about life, photography and the things that bring us together.

An early view, not long after the doors opened, before people begin to arrive.  In those silent moments my mind wanders through Christmas past and Christmas present.




The Vino has begun to grow on me.  Lights and trees and trappings of the season remind me of trips to Pittsburgh as a kid with my mother, the pilgrimage to Joseph Hornes to see Santa Claus, the Christmas Town trains at Buhl Planetarium, candlelight services as church on Christmas even and all the other little experiences that color my ideas of the holiday.  And they wash over me as I ride beneath the twinkling lights as if I was 6 years old again.

More riding magic perhaps.

One last stop on the ride home to admire the home decorations that come closest to Clark Griswold in the movie "Christmas Vacation."  This site would have fueled years of seasonal magic for me as a kid.

The clock draws near Christmas morning and it's time to shut down the computer and hold hands with my wife and await the arrival of Saint Nick.

So to all who visit and read here, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

No Riding, No Blogging, No Nothing

Nothing like a KTM draped in Christmas lights to ring in the holiday season.  Hard to believe it's December already.  The festive machine appeared at the Piston and Pints Christmas party on the deck of the Boalsburg Yacht Club.  More pictures appear on my Scooter in the Sticks Facebook page.

The past few months have been so busy and hectic that the mass upload feature of Facebook is pretty seductive.

The Vespa has been dead for over a month -- the HT spark plug lead burned off.  A replacement wire arrived last week but I have to dismantle the scooter to attach it to the coil.  No time or energy for that task yet.

I've read Jack Riepe's new book, Conversations with a Motorcycle, several times now and have completed several drafts of a review.  Like the Vespa, the review has fallen into a world of wait as other more pressing matters consume time and energy.

It's a great book and worth adding to your library and will make a great Christmas gift.  I'll offer more extensive comments soon.  Until then Riepe will probably think I never read it or something. Click the link above to find out how to order.

Stirring the mix of busyness and chaos more -- I'm still debating over whether it's time to abandon film, a darkroom, and the ever more archaic process of chemical photography.  I love silver prints but I'm not feeling the fire lately...

The Leica M6 still works and I've continue to add to the growing pile of exposed film.  I hope to awake one day soon and know what I should do.

Still manage to make my way to Saint's Cafe on Sunday morning but neither Paul nor Gordon have been able to push me one way or the other when it comes to photography.  I suppose they have their own demons to wrestle.

That's where things stand in the sticks at the moment.  High on the list is to publish my review of Conversations with a Motorcycle.  So is fixing the Vespa.

Not sure which I'll get to first.

Weather Calculations

Deciding to ride when weather is less than ideal involves an assessment of risk and a series of calculations of physical and mechanical factors. Things like road surface, wind and rain predictions, and tire condition to name a few. As much as I would like to reduce all of this to a neat equation there is a variable at work that skews the results -- what I want to do. If I want to ride I'll figure out a way to show supporting calculations.

I'll leave any discussion of my desire variable to another post.

For now, I'll concentrate on the more easily measured factors. Hurricane Sandy has dominated the news for the past few days with examples of disaster from the Bahamas to Rhode Island. The storm was here when I went to bed last night. Judging by the radar display on the iPhone there would be no riding today.

Storms are funny though and hard to predict. By morning there was almost no wind and just a mist of rain. Walking up the street with Junior before breakfast I had decided to ride. The first variable considered was road surface: wet, lots of leaves and small debris to hinder traction, nothing particularly exceptional. The second variable was the possibility of water on the road. The air intake on a modern Vespa is low making any water crossings mechanically dangerous. I thought about routes and the potential for flooding and felt comfortable that options were available.

Standing next to a puddle in the murky light on the way to work I tried to gauge the exact depth of water to avoid.

Traffic is always a riding consideration regardless of weather. Schools were closed so traffic would be light. At a stop just outside of town I was surprised how little there was. Many stayed at home today despite the relatively mild visit by Hurricane Sandy. I learned a little later I was making these assessments inside the "eye".

Plenty of motorcycle parking at work.

No other riders made the trip. In a meeting later in the morning someone referred to me as one of those people Governor Christie of New Jersey was referring to. I'm comfortable that if I lived in Atlantic City my calculations would have been much different and would have been made from the comfort of a hotel in the Poconos.

I don't make foolish decisions on two wheels.

Secondary streets were littered with leaves making for an extremely slippery surface. Slow down is the word of the day. I found myself wishing I had already mounted my more aggressive winter tires.

Running a few errands at lunchtime found things still rather quiet both in terms of people and weather. While riding I kept processing the important stuff -- speed, road surface, rain, wind, air temperature, traffic, and my own stamina in the dampness and cold.

By the end of the day the temperature dipped to 39F. Chilly if you aren't prepared.

I made a note on the way home to apply a new coat of Nik Wax to my riding gear to improve its resistance to rain. While standing and making this picture looking towards Mount Nittany on a shortcut home I was reminded of how easily my hands get cold. Perhaps it's time to break out the electric gloves.

Satisfying ride.

You Meet the Nicest People on a Honda

It's not every day you see a nearly 50 year old motorcycle still in operation.

Amanda and Ivan rode a 1965 Honda S90 to the farmer's market in Boalsburg, Pennsylvania adding a few more miles to the 12,000 currently on the odometer.  A short conversation revealed Ivan keeps the machine in operating condition along with two other vintage bikes -- a 1982 Yamaha XJ750 and a 1974 Honda CB360.

After a quick photo with the iPhone I couldn't help but think about the advertising campaign in the early 1960s that rocketed Honda sales upward in the United States -- You meet the nicest people on a Honda.

Makes me wonder if I don't need a project bike in the garage...

Piston and Pints Season Ending Cookout

The season for Piston and Pints ended this year with lots of motorcycles (and three scooters) and food and friendship.  Ken Hull's brainchild event was a rousing success.

A toast to all involved and plans for next spring and a return of Piston and Pints.  Having too many pictures to post here I decided to try and share them via my Scooter in the Sticks Facebook page.

Have a look and see who you can tag.

When Busy Collides with Riding

As the days shorten it's more and more common to arrive at work under a gray autumn sky.  Leaves are falling and probably already past the peak for those engaged in regional leaf peeping.  I've been so busy of late that my riding is limited to getting back and forth to the office and any writing or photography is connected there as well.

For a lot of riders the change in season brings an end to their riding.  For me, I'm content knowing that my favorite riding times are just beginning.  Visually the landscape is stimulating and the brisk temperatures rattle me from the lethargy of summer.  I'm reminded of a dog I used to have and how he would come alive in winter from a brief dip into a cold mountain stream.

All I need is a few miles on the Vespa.

I have a ton of stuff to post and share.  Just need to find the time...

Piston and Pints: The Video

I shot a lot of pictures at the last Piston and Pints event in Boalsburg, Pennsylvania but have been too busy (or maybe lazy) to process them and post.  But I did try out a video with a Nikon D5100 camera -- just a walk through the event to have a look at what's going on.  While this is just a slice of what went on by the end of the evening 26 motorcycles made an appearance -- quite a feat for Ken Hull's little get togethers.

The next event will be on October 16 from 5 to 7pm and there will be a season ending cookout on October 21st.

I'll get busy with those other pictures...

Another Vespa Morning

No ride begins, Vespa or otherwise, until Junior has his pound of flesh -- some sort of walk, ball tossing/throwing/shoulder-destroying session.  He's passionate about life and expects no less from me.

Was an odd morning as weather moved quickly through the valley providing an assorted palette of color and light in which to exist.  And ride.

Mt. Nittany, the familiar iconic ridge know to Penn Staters around the world, sits in the middle of Happy Valley and along one of my often used routes to town or campus.  I've been looking at a variation of this view for over 40 years now.  Where has the time gone?

State College, Pennsylvania is quiet on Sunday morning with the streets noticeably empty.  Riding, prowling the well worn byways in the area remain a satisfying action for me, mind wandering, eyes drinking in the color and texture of this little world.  I've always wandered like this with a camera.  The Vespa merely expanded my range.

During the week these motorcycle spaces are often full of the day riders, those individuals who venture out during the warm hours, the busy times.  On Sunday morning only the churchgoers, feral cats, and sober riders inhabit the world.  Or so it seems.

 Home again, home again, jiggity-jig.  Only I didn't buy a fat pig.  Just a fine, uneventful, meditative series of moments on the Vespa.  Hard to explain to some why this ritual is important.  Popular myth presents riding as either a dangerous act or outlaw activity.  Or worse.  But on another Vespa morning I just don't care..

The Vespa Chariot Rig

Often questioned or criticized by motorcycle riders for venturing out on the highway on what some consider less than adequate power.  After considering all the alternatives I decided on a classical Roman approach to bridge the gap -- a Vespa chariot rig akin to those breathtaking scenes I remember from Ben-Hur as a kid.

This picture was made by my friend Gordon Harkins just before I picked up the reins to ride a few more miles at breakneck speed through Moshannon State Forest.

A more conventional portrait of Gordon and I along the road.  He has about 300 miles or so on his spanking new Vespa GTS 300 Super.  I'll be posting soon on what it took for him to become a Vespa rider especially since he looks more at home on the set of Sons of Anarchy than anything I can imagine for a scooter...

The Equinox and Genetic Programming

An email alert from Scootin' Old Skool, a blog by author Orin O'Neill, titled Happy Equinox got me wondering about the way I feel this time of year.  On the ride home this evening I could feel winter in the distance, the shortened days triggering some circadian rhythm imprinted in my brain from a thousand generations of really needing to get things in order before the sun favored brothers in the southern hemisphere.

The clouds over Mt. Nittany, the iconic geographic feature that separates Penns Valley from Nittany Valley and Penn State University.  Standing along the road I could feel the cool air creep into my joints, move into my lungs and trigger a biological reaction that left me feeling wary and alone.

Or so I convinced myself.  Migratory birds sense it.  So do squirrels and chipmunks and other animals scurrying to prepare for winter.  Why not me?

Riding creates an intimate relationship with the weather in the fall.  Changes in light, temperature, and wind direction require nimble and ongoing adjustments in a manner not generally needed in warm weather.  Fog is more common this time of year and soon the leaves will transform the landscape into a palette of warm color.  I wonder if the visual stimulation triggers another ancient series of chemical events in my brain leaving me with prehistoric feelings no longer requiring a survival action.

Perhaps it accounts for the unsettled feelings, a mere endocrine response to some genetic programming that kept ancestors alive when mammoths roamed here.

Fall brings big skies.  Dramatic skies.  Natural reminders of things to come.

I've already donned more serious riding gear and I can feel myself steel against the elements on cold mornings.  I'm ready.  A flush of life sweeps through my body as I look towards the heavens.  It's a fine time to ride...

Piston and Pints: Learning Opportunities

Anytime people gather together around a mutual interest you're bound to learn things.  At the last Piston and Pints gathering two weeks ago I learned some things about chains, wax, cleaning and lubrication efficiency.  All things I might add that have little application to a Vespa.

Another Ducati appears though it's owner shied at the idea of a picture with someone standing on the saddle.  I'm certain concern over the well being of the model was foremost in his mind.

Despite rain earlier in the afternoon and an ongoing threat of more there were still a respectable number of motorcycles and riders in attendance.  As the days grow shorter and the temperatures begin to did below 60 at the end of the day some discussion ensued about how long Piston and Pints will persist into the fall.

This BMW comes equipped with a natural gas furnace and bearskin rugs to allow riding far into the cold season.  All modern BMW motorcycles come with automatic outriggers for fall protection when riding in snow and ice.  They aren't often talked about in BMW circles because the technology was lifted directly from the Honda Goldwing.

Ken Hull's moto-hang barn is centrally located just off the Diamond in Boalsburg.  On some evenings there are a half dozen or more bikers down the street at Duffy's Tavern, their Harleys parked out front of the colonial inn.  I keep hoping they don't find out about Piston and Pints and feel a need to ride over and kick our asses.

I think that's what bikers do.

Ken's 80s vintage Honda Reflex in a sea of machinery.  I thought the Honda Reflex was a scooter.

ALERT:  Dave Dix finally made it to Piston and Pints on his BMW.  He's nearly invisible on all other two-wheeled forms of transport.  He's showed up on so many non-BMW machines that I figured I would see him on this night on a Segway.

John lost in thought as he considers alternative routes to climb about his tall Yamaha XT1200 Z Super Tenere Regal Deluxe.  Seems he left the ladder at home.

John brought his son along to "help the old man" onto the motorcycle.  John's son holds the honors for youngest rider ever to attend a Piston and Pints event at age 16 (I think).  I thought I overheard Ken Hull saying that award comes with a $250 gift certificate for Aerostich and a three year supply of donuts.

He's riding a Suzuki DRZ650 (maybe, I'm terrible with this stuff.  I wrote it down but who knows where I put the index cards).

The real learning took place late in the evening as riders piled on with their own magic recipes for keeping chains clean and lubricated.  Some even described techniques involving sable brushes and salamander oil.

It's an eclectic bunch and Piston and Pints.

ATTENTION -- SCHEDULE CHANGE: Because of heavy rain forecast for tonight the date and time  has been changed to Thursday, September 20 from 5 to 8pm.

For directions check this link to Google Maps.

The iPhone: A Rider’s Complete Digital Photography Tool?

A stop on the way to the grocery store to get milk.  Day fading and in a hurry --  the iPhone was the perfect tool to record the scene -- launch the Instagram app, press the shutter button, done.

Looking at recent pictures has me wondering if I have the complete digital tool in my pocket. I wonder.

Often.

The morning dog walking ritual at times done half asleep.  I don't want to drag a big camera along with me but there are moments I don't want to forget so I use the iPhone.

Arguments of quality rattle through my brain as I point the iPhone at a subject -- “Use a real camera fool, get the high res file, be professional...”

I tell myself I should use a better camera.  Give myself more pixels to work with but I don’t. And then I find myself somewhere special -- the light, the forms, it's all working and all I have is the iPhone.

The big digital SLR sits on a shelf as the Vespa rockets (poetic license) down the road and I accept a sacrifice in photographic quality using the iPhone compared to every other digital camera at my disposal. Still -- the iPhone is easy, present, available -- it makes pictures that otherwise would not exist.

A piece of chocolate cake at lunch with a friend; a quick photo with the camera phone before devouring everything short of licking the powdered sugar from the plate.  I think I understand my dog's obsession with tennis balls better now. I've embarrassed to admit how many times I have looked at this image.  There's something powerful at work in my head with cake.

Mental recrimination about the iPhone and what it means to be a real photographer and the programmed obsession with sharpness, resolution, resolution and megapixels. Bigger camera equals better pictures. Or so the myth goes.

Fog on the way to work as I cut across campus on a farm lane and I wanted to remind myself later how great it is to commute to work and all I have is the iPhone.

A recent discussion with a photographer friend had him outlining his quality concerns with a Canon 5D Mark III (no slouch of a camera in the DSLR realm) and his decision to move to a Pentax 645D medium format digital camera (huge files and a $10K pricetag for the body alone). He showed me 18x24 prints that seem impossibly detailed with color, tone and texture not normally discernable to the naked eye. My hand fingered the iPhone in my pocket as I tried to not drool on my shoes. Beautiful prints.

Kim in the garden -- another fleeting moment that I want to backup my memory in a digital form -- the light, the place, a piece of our lives without the mechanical intrusion of too much photographic gear.  I know I could use a little pocket camera but the iPhone allows me to shoot and process the final images in moments and send it on to Flickr, Twitter, Tumblr...

Early morning in State College.  Another digital snapshot using yet another filter in the Instagram collection.  I can't remember what it's called.

I really should buckle down and take this stuff more seriously and shoot with a real camera and methodically process the images. It echoes in my head over and over.

But I’m not that photographer. My nature and personality chafe at the tyranny of that kind of process and I’ve accepted I’ll never be comfortable in that creative landscape despite how much I admire that kind of work.

Horses wander onto the horizon on a pasture at Penn State.  Their lazy movements under a gray sky remind me of something I can't quite put my finger on.  A fast capture on the iPhone and I can think about it later.  A digital post-it note.

Moments pass quickly in life and on the road and the fuss-free performance of the iPhone makes it possible to reach into the flow and snatch moments at will. I consider these images sketches -- snapshots that reflect a creative freedom not possible when I’m enslaved by the tyranny of photographic law.

But that’s me.

A recent ride with Paul and Gordon began at my driveway.  Paul wandered up the street to watch the sunrise.  I know that feeling.  The iPhone makes it so easy to remember.

While the iPhone is not the complete tool for digital photography I've been impressed how valuable a tool it is for me while I'm on the road, out in the world, engaging a life.

I'll write about the downside of the thing some other day...