Foggy Morning
This photo was made on the way to work just a mile from home on a less than direct route.
There’s a ritual that blooms each morning with the return to consciousness. Eyes scan the room, hand reaches for the water glass and the dog stirs in anticipation of a new day. Simple moments gather momentum from bed to shower and on toward the back door; two dogs now prancing as if today will be the best day ever.
Ever.
During those moments I glance out the window, a sneak peak of the story that might unfold in the next minutes and hours. When I see fog, like the dogs, I prance. Edging toward the end of the 62nd year on earth I feel lucky that I can be pushed to prance. The crashing of waves on a rocky coast, a sudden rainbow after a storm, tall white clouds against a strong blue sky — each has the power to unleash a dancing sprite that still breathes inside. Riding a scooter has added years to that dancer’s life.
And my own.
The prospect of riding to work in the fog causes all to fade in anticipation of the grey shrouded world of mystery and imagination. An ordinary, pedestrian trip from home to office becomes an epic journey of struggle and revelation.
I love riding a Vespa in the fog.
Clearing Skies
Some of the most dramatic landscapes are revealed beneath a clearing sky. Sometimes those moments are fleeting as the clouds break for an instant allowing the light to change. And then it’s gone. I’ve watched the weather move through the Nittany Valley for over 40 years and it still holds my attention.
Riding a Vespa in the fog provides more opportunity to see the landscape that I ever did in a car.
Along a Murky Road
Absent a horizon I can imagine roads stretching across great distances, I feel my spine stretch and stiffen, girding myself for adventure if only on a miniature scale. Riding has switched on genes first programmed when prehistoric ancestors pursued mastodons and saber toothed tigers — business of life and death that few riding on the roads of America ever approaches. For a few minutes I am more, greater than my self. Riding provides a lavish physical and emotional connection to the world. Fog transforms it to a realm of magic.
Riding in the Fog
Let no rider be lured by fog’s siren song onto the rocks. There is much to tend in the real world — concerns for visibility both by the rider of others and others of the rider. Fogged visors and slick roads add to the challenge.
And the risk.
I never tire of considering risk. I value my life and respect the threats to it but I do not dwell on unfortunate coincidence or disaster. I never ask, “What if this happens to me?”. I always ask, “What if I have to stop riding?”
It’s a dark world in which I can’t ride. I know it will happen someday. Choosing to stop riding is as puzzling to me as people who surrender their dog or cat to the pound because they purchased a new carpet. Things change.
Riding is indelibly etched in my DNA and has waited for decades to surface. There are no cures or 12 step programs. Only the burden of desire carried each day that claws inside whining and snarling to ride.
Fog only stirs the beast.
What ignites your riding desire?
Great post Steve. Magical, mystical, full of imagination and truth. I get the same feelings about riding as I get older and I know I never want to give up life or riding.
Thanks for the kind words Brent. Having the opportunity to ride IS a great gift.
I too enjoy fog. Not necessarily driving or riding in it, but walking in the fog is enjoyable.
Beautiful pictures too.
Walking along a foggy coast is best. Kim and I used to spend hours and hours in the fog in Maine. Miss those walks…
You’ve discovered how to turn you hum-drum commute into recreation and adventure. How many people can say that they look forward to their commute?
The only way it could be more of an adventure would be to ride on a 50cc Honda Ruckus!
Steve, the heaviest fog bank I rode in was early morning on the Blue Ridge Parkway and the next ‘best’ was the Golden Gate bridge. Both extremely challenging but exhilarating too.
I’ve heard people describe fog in those places. I don’t think we get things that dense here do you think?
The fog on the Blue Ridge was so thick we just about walked our bikes along the white side line into the parking lot of one of the restaurants along the way. We had to follow someone to even get to the restaurant. Then the fog got even heavier and we actually couldn’t find our bikes. So we had to wait an hour or so for it to fade away…
That’s pretty bad fog. I’ve only been in fog twice that had me thinking I should get off the road but even then it wasn’t as thick as you describe. Waiting is often the answer.
Steve, so far the ride for me is all about what I can see. You really see so much more on a scooter going 30 mph than in a car going the same speed. I’ve only logged 500 miles so far, but I’m still amazed at the difference. So to me fog would be anathema to my experience.
On a different note, about 75 miles ago I hit the point where the scooter and I were no longer two, but one. Buddhists would be jealous. The lack of separation between the scooter and me has given me more confidence. I’m sure more confidence is a double-edged sword on these machines.
Thanks for your blog. Always a great read.
Fog isn’t so much about seeing less as it is seeing something different. It’s like being out at night — you see a lot of things you wouldn’t during the day. It’s just a different experience.
You’re right about confidence being a double-edged sword. Many riders have embraced disaster through over confidence and behavior reflective of that confidence. Be careful.
Fog has always been just as much a sensation as a sight, made more acute when not walled-off via sheet metal and glass. I’ve always enjoyed cycling in fog (provided it wasn’t accompanied by rain), and have also enjoyed a bit of it so far on the Vespa. The world feels a bit more enclosed, but by a gentle veil instead of a cloak of darkness. There’s also an enhanced quietude, similar to just after a heavy snowfall, but an atmosphere you can travel more safely in (traction-wise at least…keep those lights on!).
Riding desire? Sometimes to feel that foggy air…or intense sun. Almost always for that peculiar sensation of movement, of weaving and bending and yes, that little kick when giving it a bit of throttle, or more. The quality of pavement – or lack thereof.And the things I see between where I was and where I think I’m going. The voyage, then the arrival.
It’s all such a thing!
Sounds like you have a complete and satisfying grasp of riding in all situations — fog or otherwise. The riding sensation is special…
From a friend cheese maker who herself rides a vespa, Whatever you do, don’t wear lip gloss! Remember the movie Dumb Dumber ? Enough said.