A Plain Ride to Work

I could not resist stopping to talk with this horse. I figured he might be related to my Belgian Sheepdog Junior being a Belgian draft horse. Pauses like this during the morning ride to work are sort of, well, therapeutic. Calms my squirming brain before sitting down to a day's work. When I first stopped this horse galloped off, undoubtedly frightened by the mighty roar of the Vespa. It did not take long for his curiosity to get the best of him though.

The chilly 39F morning ride was replaced by a near 60F ride home. Warm enough that I found myself engaged in my usual Family Circus style circuitous route home weaving through every lane and field I could find. I had forgotten the little thrill I get just poking along and seeing what the snow had hidden for so long.

I don't ride in groups and seldom ride with anyone at all. Looking at this scene reminded me of what I find most powerful in my little adventures -- solitude, escape, and a feeling of being alive and walking on the earth.

Just another plain ride to work.

A State of Mind

On the way home from work I was doing a bit of musing as I wandered around a farm field with my camera and was thinking about how I often come to be in places like this.

Dan Bateman, author of Musings of an Intrepid Commuter, recently wrote about the state of mind that riding can put you in – one decidedly different than that sitting behind the wheel of an automobile. I revisited the two paragraphs below a number of times. What Dan wrote soundly struck a chord and neatly sums up the magic of riding for me.

There's something about riding a motorcycle that puts us into a different state of mind than cagers. Sometimes that's bad. We're more likely to find ways to get into trouble, you know! On the other hand, or maybe just the other side of the same hand, I find myself so much more open to the world around me. I see more, feel more, and thus experience more, than when in a car. I find myself so much more willing to wander off the beaten path. The age old question. What's down there? Let's go find out. I'm not so likely to bother with it in a car or my truck. On a bike, in vivid contrast, I'm ready for adventure at a moment's notice.

I think most people who ride experience the same thing. Using a bike for regular transportation amplifies the effect. I spend a lot of time on a bike. So I also spend a lot of time in an open and inquisitive state of mind. It's become a regular trait of mine. Riding is a Zen-like journey. There's so much personal growth that comes as a result of, but not directly tied to, riding. Thus my journey Monday evening.

Musings of an Intrepid Commuter, April 9, 2009

Riding strips away a lot of the noise that builds through the day and can open the door to adventure. I’m not talking about the big, heroic rides across continents, but rather movement through a regular day, through the daily rituals of life. When I push the Vespa back onto its center stand it is almost always to look around. At nothing and everything. I feel the same way I did when I was a kid and everything seemed new and treasure is everywhere. I’m fortunate that I can ride regularly and enter this state of mind.

Dan talks about how a motorcycle makes him more willing to wander off the beaten path. I have to agree. I seldom wheel my Ford Ranger off the beaten path. The enclosed comfort in a modern vehicle makes those turns ponderous and difficult. Or more often just unimportant. I don’t often feel like a kid in my truck. I know it can be done because I used to prowl the Central Pennsylvania landscape in a truck with my view camera in tow. I would move slowly, just as I do on the scooter, and travel down every unmarked path searching for photographic treasure. But it was never easy and I always had to push past the slothful comfort of padded seats and stereophonic music. The Vespa appears in these pictures without any need to push.

Riding to work the next morning was a repeat of the previous evening. Another path, another opportunity to breathe in the world. They aren’t dramatic rides but they are opportunities to be present, something that is more difficult to achieve amidst the noise of daily living. 

I’ve been here before but each time I stop it’s the first time I’ve been here.

3 Prints Project -- February 3, 2008

Another week has passed and I managed to shoot two more rolls and make prints. It is becoming easier to get myself into the darkroom and exposing the film is becoming more transparent in my life. It definitely helps that I carry my Leica M6 with me everywhere.

Here are the pictures...

Early last Sunday morning at local cafe

Kim in parking lot

Farm along long route to work

The 11 Degree Fahrenheit Commute

Darkness and the thermometer indicated 6 degrees when I got out of bed. It requires great effort to leave the house; on foot, by car, or on the Vespa. Once the sun comes out it's another matter entirely.

Preparing for cold rides takes more time, more layers of clothes, heavier gear, wires for the electric gloves. I feel like a knight preparing for battle except I don't have a squire to care for the Vespa. The routine mechanical check revealed low tire pressure front and back. Just what I wanted to fiddle with in an unheated garage only marginally warmer than the air outside. I dutifully checked everything, pushed the scooter into the driveway and hit the starter button. Even at 11 degrees the GTS starts right up. No battery tender needed yet.

The Gerbing electric gloves work great at this temperature and aside from the shear bulk of my riding gear everything else keeps me warm and insulated from the icy cold air. Everything but the helmet vent I neglected to close that allowed a little knife if frigid air to torture my left eye.

With the Vespa parked in it's space at work the bright sun makes everything seem tolerable. Looking at the picture I hardly see anything cold. No matter how cold it is I'm fine if the sun is out. Like one New Year's Day hike long ago when I fell through the ice at Bear Meadows. Sun was out so I hiked another 8 hours after I got out of the water.

The Vespa provides basic transportation. With some extra gear it allows me to use it year round, even for an 11-degree commute to work. The ride home was much warmer with temperatures soaring to near 30 degrees.

I stopped on the way home to photograph glowing orange corn stubble in the snow. I see a lot of things while I ride that I would like to make a picture of but I do want to go home.

Turning around and walking back towards the scooter I couldn't resist making one last picture as the sun neared the horizon. It still gets dark too soon and I look forward to longer and warmer days. Until then I'll have to keep preparing as if I were going out on a moonwalk I suppose. Not very stylish but very effective.

To Ride or Not to Ride

That is the question.

One that goes beyond any momentary consideration of weather. It’s a question of time and choices. Riding for riding’s sake and not for transportation. Transportation is a simple question to answer and so is the weather. What I’m talking about is making a choice to ride when I have nowhere to go. When the choice to ride means I won’t be raking leaves or paying bills. Time spent with friends or family will give way to time on the road. That choice is more difficult.

This past weekend was perfect riding weather. Gray skies, cool air, and no one on the road. And I had a ton of work to do. More than normal and the days pass quickly. I feel the clock. I make the choice to ride though I don’t know if it’s the right one.

It’s easy to say I need to ride to stay sane but I know that’s not true. If I never rode again I would retain my grip on reality. I also know that riding has changed me. For the better and that’s something that’s hard to dismiss. But still I’m left with much responsibility and a fixed amount of time.

The ride was short, sixty miles with a stop for breakfast. The temperature hovered around 50 degrees and the skies remained heavy with cloud cover. Farmers were cutting corn and spills of the hard yellow stuff were evident on and along the roads, another road surface hazard that could surprise the unwary rider on dry roads.

Stopping by a small lake in Pennsylvania Furnace Paul offered to leap through another picture. Looking at it now I see myself responding to the question of riding.

A Person Who is Looking for Something Doesn't Travel Very Fast

The trip to and from work today was slow and deliberate. Random patches of ice in the morning and patches of gravel this afternoon required careful attention. And adequate attention translates in speeds below normal.

E.B. White's quote used in the title of this post reaches beyond the obvious. It means more that the resultant slow speeds at which I rode to safely manage hazards on the road surface. White suggests a necessity of deliberation for anyone engaged in a search. Moving, acting, and living slower is not the default mode of popular culture or the majority of the riding community. Traveling from point A to point B as fast or packed with as many mini-experiences as possible often is the travel mode of choice. Motorcycles and scooters capable of triple digit speeds are not conducive for 25 MPH meandering. Each of us makes our own choices and riding is no exception.

My ride today reminded me of how much I am looking for -- inside and out. I stopped on the way home to look at the snow covered corn stubble reaching across the valley I call home. I'm looking for something I can't describe or explain. While there a bicyclist stopped to ask if I saw a bear. Each of us was obviously looking for something different.

I'm fortunate to have open roads so near to home in spite of growing development pressure. The road above is typical of many of the secondary roads that loop through the countryside.

I wasn't sure this morning if I would ride to work. Temperatures hovered near freezing insuring there would be some icy patches would remain. I'm glad I did ride because it provided a chance to look at the morning sky. I'm still not sure why but I never look carefully while driving or riding the bus. I just get plugged into the fast lane.

2007 Riders Choice Awards Voting Still Open
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Your vote will let the motorcycle industry know how you feel about things in the 2007 Riders Choice Awards sponsored by Motorcycle Bloggers International. Dream bikes, dream rides, the good and the bad, and off course if you are so inclined Scooter in the Sticks is in the running for best blog! Click HERE to see the ballot.

A Riding Photo Project

Committing to a photography project is difficult. Mental gymnastics intended to clarify and focus a direction generally leave me thinking that every photograph has been made and adding to the sum total of human expression is a pointless exercise. Every mundane chore or diversion looms larger and the camera sits quietly in the dark. My brain really makes it difficult to start.

The images I make of the Vespa while riding are easy. The rides are fun and I like the way the scooter looks. I can pull the digital camera out of my pocket and in a few seconds I'm done. What I'm talking about now is a body of work related to the scooter only because the scooter may be transporting me to the location in which I would photograph. The Vespa is not a subject. Perhaps the ride is the subject. The photograph above was made during the last ride of my LX150 shortly before permanent mechanical failure. It is the sort of image I might make as part of this project. Whatever the subject is what is clear is that I have not been able to sustain action or production. I do a lot of thinking. Thinking is good, just not for photography, at least not for me.

During a phone conversation last weekend my friend Gordon, also a photographer, suggested we get together periodically to help each other along through doubt and motivation, to prod through support or shame the production of new work. Friend Paul was added to the group and Kim took part in our first meeting on Monday night.

I'll share my part in this. I agreed to shoot two rolls of film, process, contact and make two work prints to show when we meet every two weeks.


A quick calculation in my head shows one hour to process the film and two hours to make the contact sheets and prints. I can't estimate the photography time. The above contact sheet shows images made during the last ride of the LX150.

I need a carrot but more often I need a stick directed at me to get me moving. Thinking about photography doesn't get me any farther than thinking about riding does. In each case I need to just get in motion. Things only happen when I am engaged in the process. I'm hoping that combining the camera with the Vespa will make something happen. I have faith in things happening when I am in motion. I've decided to share this journey in Scooter in the Sticks. I'll allow you to see the process and the rough results as I haul my camera around. If I am really lucky I'll feel guilty not keeping up with my photo production goals. So look for some black and white photos to appear at least every two weeks. Give me hell if I drop the ball.

Karma and a Riding Misadventure

Maybe I watched too many episodes of My Name is Earl. I figured if I did something nice for someone Karma would take care of me and that winning lottery ticket would blow up against my riding boot. Sitting on the back of my friend Paul's truck at the end of the day 60 miles from home I was rethinking the Earl model.

I have been on vacation during the holidays but until yesterday didn't really take a long ride and with the weather warming into the 40's I figured now was the time, especially since I just did all the maintenance on the scooter. I departed around 9AM under cloudy skies and a 28° F temperature. The grass and cars were covered in frost but the road was dry. I bundled up in my riding gear and was off. I had my Mamiya 7 camera along to shoot some black and white landscape pictures --- the official start of a new project. The plan was to explore some really open spaces along Nittany and Sinking valleys. The sun was trying to push through the cloud cover creating a glow in the sky and on the frost covered fields.



While shooting this picture a gentleman from a nearby home trotted over to ask about the Vespa and share that he had an ET4. What better omen for a great ride than running into a fellow Vespa owner! We talked for a few minutes and then I was off towards the more remote sections of the valley.


The light continued to glow and warm. Stopping to take pictures, pulling off my mittens and exposing them to the cold air was taking it's toll on hand warmth though and it wasn't long before I would preheat them on the headlight before pulling the mittens back on. There were a lot of neat little spots along the way including this old garage covered in signs and license plates.


I have passed it many times and always wanted to stop to make a picture. And these silos seemed to jump out at me when I went by requiring another stop for the big camera and a quick snapshot with the digital camera too.


I had decided to ride into Tyrone for lunch when a tractor-trailer driver flagged me down. He had a paper in his hand so I figured he was more interested in directions than in the Vespa. Two Vespa encounters in one day were too much to expect. The driver and his 14000 pounds of seed were lost and worse the place he was trying to find was about as hidden away as possible around here. I lent him my cell phone so he could get directions and as I watched his look become more puzzled and frustrated I asked for the phone. After a few minutes I determined exactly where the delivery point was and that this guy from Indiana would never find it. What else could I do but volunteer to lead him there. It was only about 10 miles in the opposite direction that I was now headed but heck I am always up for a change in plans. So he jumps into the cab and I get on the scooter and hit the starter button and it just whirrs. "Dead battery" flashes in my head. I get off and hit the kick-starter (yes, the Vespa LX150 still has a kickstart) a few times and the engine starts and off we go.

It was a nice ride especially with an eighteen-wheel escort behind me that didn't want to run me down. Once we hit the dirt roads though I was kind and he had a hard time keeping up. I had to stop a few times to make sure he was still there. We arrive at the agricultural enterprise and they are glad I led the truck there. It occurred to me then that they would have come and got him if I hadn't volunteered to lead him. Turned out that I was glad I did because I found some roads and places that were fine riding and offered lots of photo possibilities for my new project. The farmers have put up their snow fences but we haven't had any snow yet. They do make for nice pictures.

Lunch was out of the question now until I got to Altoona that lay over the far ridge and 12 miles to the left.


I was smart enough at this point to not shut the engine off when I was taking pictures. I figured I would check things out when I got to Altoona. The really smart rider would have ridden home to troubleshoot in his or her own garage. An hour later I pull into my in-laws driveway and go inside for a fantastic meatball sandwich.

The fun begins now as I try and get the Vespa running for the trip home. I had it in my head that the starter would not engage because the battery was low. Swapped the battery from my father-in-law's ET4 and the same thing. And my battery started his scooter fine. At this point I ask to use the computer and post on the Modern Vespa site for help and receive immediate help from the Technical Moderator Gary that I should run down the ground to make sure it is solid. He helped me troubleshoot but as the afternoon waned I figured it was time to truck the scooter home. I called my friend Paul who graciously offered to drive his truck 60 miles to get the scooter and me. Here you can see Paul on the left with my father-in-law Bob.


They both did a lot to try and get the Vespa running. We loaded up and headed for gas and a bite to eat, the least I could do.

It was dark when we left and suddenly we have no headlights on the truck. I'm beginning to wonder now what I'm being punished for. Karma is not with me. It wasn't until we got home that Kim put things in perspective for me. It was a great ride, I did a good deed, I met another Vespa rider, I had the opportunity to be with family, a good friend showed his friendship, I was home safe, and perhaps there was a reason for not riding home. Kim pointed out what I couldn't see because I was focused on what I wanted---the scooter to start---and wasn't seeing the bigger picture. This wasn't a misadventure but another adventure. It's all in the way you look at things.

The scooter is in the garage and the heater is running. Another adventure awaits.