On a stop just after sunrise I realized how often during a ride I just want to look. Not for a photograph or acknowledgement of a specific sight but just to absorb the world. Thinking about it I also realize how often some other activity got me to that place of looking — ride on the scooter, a journey to make photographs, or even a walk with the dogs. Far less often is going out by myself for no other reason than to look. I wonder if looking is nothing more than a pleasant side effect of other activities.
Paul Ruby and I were on our way to breakfast when I stopped to make another photograph. Neither of us had any idea where we would end up eating but were confident that something would reveal itself if we were patient. During this stop I remembered sitting in the woods with my father, perhaps 45 years ago, while we were hunting squirrels. It was a fine fall morning with the woods glowing orange and yellow from the sun filtering through the leaves. He told me he loved walking in the woods this time of year. I recall thinking he never went into the woods except during hunting season and then only a few times.
Riding, photography, hunting — are these the excuses we make just so we can enjoy the world?
Roads lure me into secret journeys even when I know where they lead. For a moment, especially when a new day is coming to life, they promise an unknown adventure just waiting for me to discover. Those moments keep me coming back for more. Keep me standing in the world and watching for nothing and for everything.
Breakfast was still somewhere in the future when a paved road gave way to an abandoned one and potholes and decaying pavement from years of neglect became the challenge of the moment. This stretch of road lies between the Loganton exit on Interstate 80 and Watsontown to the east. I never knew this road existed and suspect it was abandoned when the interstate highway was opened. Twenty miles of slowly devolving asphalt and gravel with no cell service or traffic. A single overhead electric wire ran the length and appeared to be in use though I never saw any reason for it.
My father only walked or embarked on a journey if there was a good reason to do so. Standing around and admiring a view was not a good reason. I’m trying to remember the last time I walked out the door and down the road without a reason or purpose. Have I forgotten the joy of childhood — doing nothing?
As a kid I could have spent all morning playing in and around a creek like this. As an adult I have things to do and places to go. Not even enough time to pull off my boots and socks and soak my feet in what I’m certain was a frigid water.
I do remember doing nothing. The last time Kim and I were in Maine and I sat along the coast in the morning watching the sunrise over the ocean and suddenly being aware the sun was up and it was getting hot, my mind wandered and led me into some sort of trance. On a good ride something similar can happen.
Derrick’s Restaurant in Dewart, Pennsylvania was our breakfast destination — a recommendation from a fellow some miles down the road at a gas station. Sixty-eight miles from home we pulled into the parking lot to take our chances on a small local eatery. Finding a nicely restored 1965(?) vintage Ford Falcon with a 302 V8 engine was an omen that we were at some sort of eclectic place of power.
Derrick’s was one of the cozier, pleasant and odd places I’ve had breakfast. It was a mix of Christian themes and Budweiser art. Paul commented on the menu prices that they were the lowest costs he had ever seen.
We ate well.
After breakfast the sun had risen high enough into the sky to shred any vestige of magic from light and other illusions. It was just hot and bright. It did not deter us from adventuring on and discovering a small bakery in Muncy, Pennsylvania selling cowboy cookies or a variety of Amish buggies on the road. But as Paul knows I’m not much interested in photographing during the bright days of summer. So the ride continued another hundred miles before returning home to a lawnmower and excited dogs.
And I also carried home the thought that the excuses we make to get out into the world should be unnecessary. Maybe it’s time to just walk out the door with nothing to do and nowhere to be — just like I did when I was nine years old.
That was freedom and I didn’t even know it.
“Riding, photography, hunting — are these the excuses we make just so we can enjoy the world?”
Well, I’d say it depends what’s the true intention behind it. At least in the case of hunting I’d say that if someone equates it with enjoying the world, the person has a lot of evolving to do. Hunting may be necessary, but enjoying it? That would show some bottled up violence.
Are we engaging in that particular activity to avoid boredom, to keep the mind occupied, or to channel our creative Self? The first two are ugly, the last one is positive.
Do you go for a scooter ride because sitting at home would be boring (ugly) or because
you’d like to enjoy the beauty of nature and feel better connection with it (positive)?
Michael B.:
Perhaps you can keep your anti-hunting screed to yourself, or post it perhaps on an anti-hunting blog instead of here?
This blog is all about the beauty of life, and the philosophical and beneficial nature of traveling through and observing life, on two wheels.
I hunt, and I have no “bottled up violence”. And I’m sure I could find millions of other hunters who are of a similar mindset.
I read the comment about bottled up violence but was too tired to comment. I’ve never “felt” violent when I hunted but my memory may be clouded by nostalgic recall since it has been over 40 years since I walked in the woods with a gun. My recollections of hunting are mostly positive and revolve around being with my father and friends. The actual hunting part seemed incidental to the experience. That probably was what I brought to it. I liked being in the woods, I liked the ritual, and I liked shooting the gun though I was a terrible shot.
I suppose I can’t deny the actual shooting of a rabbit or squirrel or deer is violent. I’m familiar with the effect of a projectile. But to ascribe violent intent to the hunter is a stretch. A big one that I don’t agree with. People hunt for a lot of reasons. I know hunters who have little interest in the ritual or the outdoors — they’re after food. And others who fall closer to where I was. And I’m certain there are men and women who bring violent or destructive intent to the field and forest. Just like in any other activity in the world.
Working where I do I’ve spent considerable time over the years with researchers who study deer in the forests of Pennsylvania and hunters are a critical resource in managing the deer population. In some more heavily urban or suburban settings where hunting is not allowed there have been instances of professional bow hunters being contracted to remove the deer. Foresters blame them for the lack of oak regeneration and drivers and riders bemoan the interactions they have with them.
I don’t want to start a hunting discussion but Michael would probably need to illuminate his thoughts around bottled up violence before we can really understand where he’s going. Right now, for me, hunting isn’t anymore violent than the fate of the animals I eat for dinner. I admit having pondered questions about that process from time to time but violence still doesn’t figure into it. For me at least.
Ah, Kitty, I think you misunderstood my comments about hunting. There is no sentence indicating that I’m against it (no need to charge it with emotions). I said that hunting may be necessary.
Hunting for needed food, hunting to control population of over-bred animals, for example. If I lived in wilderness, like Alaska or the Yukon Territories, perhaps I’d be hunting too, to put food on my table. At the same time would I enjoy it? Do I enjoy going to a grocery store and looking for a steak or buying lamb loin chops? I do it because it’s necessary sometimes. If someone enjoys killing that indicates the person
is in a not very evolved state. How can it be otherwise? One can enjoy being in nature and looking at animals, but if that individual enjoys pulling the trigger, seeing the animal collapse and its blood flowing out, that person has violence bottled up inside. How can it be otherwise? The act of killing is violence (please don’t attach emotions to it, look at it from strictly mechanical point of you). Thus, the enjoyment of killing is an enjoyment of violence. Do peaceful people enjoy violence?
Michael B:
I see now that I did misread your original statement, as you were tying violent nature to the “enjoyment” of hunting. So for my misunderstanding I do apologize.
However, having said that, I will say that there are millions of Americans who “enjoy” hunting, for all that hunting encompasses (the ritual, being in the woods, the gear, our co-hunters, etc.) — but again, we are not “violent” by nature.
That is my final word on this subject. . . and now we return to Steve’s regularly scheduled input of outstanding photography and two-wheeled philosophy.
Intention is a slippery thing. There’s what we say we’re doing, what we think we’re doing, and what we’re actually doing. Often I find I’m unsure of one or more of those. The best I can hope for is to try and be clear-minded and open to things.
Not sure I understand the ugly and positive labels.
Oh, BTW, I enjoy exploring little used or abandoned roads (though we don’t have many of those here). The picture with the stream and the bridge is really dandy.
That was a cool place. If I wasn’t so hungry I would have stayed longer. Kicked myself for not bringing any snacks along…
I just loved this post Steve. We must be in sync I have been thinking a lot lately of what I did in my childhood and enjoyed reading your thoughts. Brent
Thanks for the kind words and reflection Brent. Kim always tells me there are these powers in the world that often touch us making things feel in synch. I don’t know what it is or how it works but I believe it.
As a child I use to get in trouble for going off on my bicycle to see what I could see, now its the scooter. Some things never change.
You still getting in trouble?
I enjoy riding for its own sake most times so stopping, except for a Pit Stop, rarely comes up. The sound and vibration of the engine, the feel of the road passing under my tires and the force of gravity shifting on my body from the curves is just hypnotic. I was never a “Stop and Smell the Roses” type of guy, even in my Bicycle Club days. I just gather in the scenery as I move, looking for the next good turn.
Of course I’ve missed old bridges, barns and ancient oak trees. Moving through the world without stopping has its price.
We’re all different and end up doing things for a wide range of reasons. All I know is that for me, it helps to take stock of what I’m doing — particularly in those areas I think I have the answers.
Very well-put, and beautifully photographed, as usual.
I’ve read your blog sporadically over the years — I have a hard time keeping up with everyone — and always enjoy my visits. I FINALLY added you to my MotoBlog Buddies link roll. 🙂
Thanks for adding me to your MotoBlog list. Always nice to get new eyes on the things I write. Take care and keep riding safe!
Having experienced the “knock at the door,” recently; these wanderlust happenings shall
be more frequent. You have indirectly experienced your own mortality.
You have decided, not without some remorse, life is more tham riding with a purpose; riding without a purpose is fun. And seeing the nicely restored Ford Falcon
and recalling when it was a current model allows us to know we are older, and better for the experience.
That knock on the door seems to have a lingering effect. Wish I could achieve that state without experiencing a heart attack.
Did I ever tell you my Husband’s family is from Clearfield?
No, I didn’t know that. Small world. Always have to be on good behavior.
Thanks for the reminder that it should not be necessary, to ride, just to ride…not to get to a specific destination and the pictures involved. At least, that’s what I got from your posting.
I think you’re right. Responsibilities and life generate duties/tasks/schedules all disguised in our minds as “living”.
Sometimes, we need to remember that and take a riding break from it all, not run away from it all, just a break. Its come to mind, that the act of riding is like trying to run away from it all, but the return home is always good as well.
Thanks for the pics, and congrats on finding another good place to eat.
Loved this post!
This is exactly why I ride, to get out the door, discover hidden places, go nowhere in particular, do nothing in particular, on my scooter.
Everybody is in a hurry, going somewhere . Not me.
Nice, very nice!
Thanks for the kind words. I didn’t expect that people would respond to doing nothing!
Ride safe.
steve
Dom,
Taking a break from it all is easier said than done. The weight of things undone can make it all seem so drastically important that even thinking of taking a break seems nuts. Or so it can get with me. Balance remains just beyond my reach on many days…
Lovely post. I haven’t ridden as much as I normally do lately and this hits home. Thank you for the reminder to just ride for the ride. Life gets too fast paced and it’s important to just go and explore for no other reason than just…to go and explore.
It’s easy to be swept along in projects and forget to care for ourselves. I visit your website every once in awhile and I’m amazed at all the things you dive into. The 365 Days Projects alone would make my brain itch. It takes space in the mind to do that kind of stuff.
Glad the post reminded you of riding, just riding…
Again a beautiful though provoking post. It is weird how I’m reflecting on things and then it magically pops up here in your posts.
I was thinking the other day during the rush of the weekend how we would just go and do stuff on the weekends picnics, walks without any agenda , now weekends are full of chores, no wonder I never feel rested . When we go to my favorite recharge spot and camp for a week I wander aimlessly and soak up the surroundings, I think I need to try harder to stop and just be present in the moment more instead of rushing by.
Not sure about magic but perhaps there is a cosmic vibration around a subject that we transmit or receive that can be tapped into when you’re thinking — maybe that leads to my post ideas. Or maybe not….:)
Agendas, lists, to dos, must dos, all that stuff piles up to create a rather miserable state for me. Wandering aimlessly is a rare event, one we should all protect with special care.
Nice familiar thoughts in this post. Riding has become the default way to go anywhere or pick things up. Actual rides just “to ride” are few and far between.
I’ve started thinking about “Sunday drives” my parents used to take. Back in the early sixties everything was closed on Sunday, there wasn’t much on TV, so there weren’t as many distractions. Those drives were wonderfully aimless and I’m sure had something to do with my wandering today.
Now most rides are infused with work and responsibility.
Love your thoughts on riding, and your photography as well!
Thank you Michael. I appreciate the words of support.
Ride safe on your V-strom!
Steve, White Deer Pike is not really abandoned, it remains a vital link between White Deer and the east end of Sugar Valley. It has a number of very cool mountain roads intersecting it, leading into some truly lovely parts of Bald Eagle State Forest and north into Tiadaughton Forest as well. I’ve traveled it many times, used it as a favored mountain biking link and jump-off point. There is a great artesian well with some of the tastiest cool water you will ever savor along the road. The fact that it parallels I-80 really plays up the contrast in the pace and the scenery, though that stretch of 80 is by far the most lovely and scenic in the state. On the Pike you can actually enjoy all that beauty.
I guess I realized it wasn’t really abandoned but it was obvious that the amount of traffic was low. You’re exactly right about the parallel path with I-80 — like you I’ve often thought that stretch of road is beautiful but had no idea that little road was there. Nice to know that there are some more places to explore. A couple side roads are on my list.
Where is that artesian well???
An important lesson in life: While the destination may be important, the journey should be an adventure worth remembering. We’ve forgotten this in the west. We have forgotten to value to journey in our rush to the destination.
Hi Steve. I’m at Saints downing some $3.50 coffee. ‘Member when it was $0.50? I’ve wondered sometimes what you get out of riding your scooter. I guess you get many things out of it. I know why you shoot photos or why you used to shoot photos. To better see the world or understand the world or your place in the world, something like that. And that’s why I shoot art photography too. You reminded me of another reason in your blog comments above. Riding my motorcycle with you lets me participate in my life (with you and with the world). It’s as if riding scooters or shooting photos with you (or Jerry) is the experience of life. Well my life any way. And remembering your father in the woods, I wish I had hunted with my father. We went fishing though. I remember some of those moments in pretty high detail 40 years later. But this is your blog not mine and I won’t fill up two pages expanding on that.
I’ll have to let you do a guess blog post Paul — photos, text, motorcycles, philosophy, whatever.You have lots to say and share.
You’ve got the bar set kind of high in SITS. I’ll have to think about your offer. I’m honored that you suggested it though.
We can talk more about it when you get back from Woodstock.