The Devil Made Me Do It
I believe in free will. I imagine living by a system of beliefs and being free to make choices that propel me along a path of my own making. There can be no doubt that I make choices. But more and more, I question the freedom in making them.
Yesterday morning the weather app on my phone suggested rain, perhaps heavy, late in the morning. After considering the evidence I made the choice to mount the Vespa scooter and head east across Penns Valley.
Just to ride, look and be alone. My choice.
The desire to ride is strong. Some might suggest an obsession. Creative colleagues describe passion and drive. I wonder if the mental and physical longing to be on the road is really an imperious engine that robs me of choice?
“The devil made me do it.”
Traveling East
Spring is in full flush. Beyond the visual evidence of plants coming alive everywhere there are the heady fragrances of spring — honeysuckle and dogwood, lilacs, and the smell of fresh cut grass is everywhere as I meander along roads almost familiar after haunting them for over 40 years.
There is no better mechanicial partner for me than the Vespa.
Inevitably my mind wanders from the road toward slow, swaying waves of thought triggered my things I see and feel. There is no choice — they just arrive.
Not far from home I passed a housing development where I once made photographs of buckwheat fields and combines gathering a harvest. Now it’s a collection of “estates” with garage complexes easily twice the size of my house. And lawns of three, five and ten acres — lush, green, weedless, mown and tended with precision. Natural deserts not fit for insect or animal.
Are these places the result of freely made choices? In the land of individual freedom and self determination the answer is “yes”! But I wonder.
The Road Goes on Forever
Over and over I’m brought face-to-face with visual metaphors for the unknown ahead. What is over that rise? Where will I be this afternoon? Or next year? The Vespa is my faithful pony, traveling with me into a future full of dreams and nightmares, hopes and fears, thrills and boredom, all part of a mix that makes life drip with possibility.
And choices.
But what about those sweeping lawns and homes. Are they really a result of freely made choices or have them been poisoned by culture and the human need to conform to unwritten rules and expectations? And who created them?
Choices. And choices colored by industry and marketing burrowing into our subconscious to somehow make us feel less should our lawns attract birds or our homes not reflect our power.
Riding alone — it can be a harsh taskmaster and leave me questioning what I believe. Or commit time to.
I don’t blame the scooter though. It’s an unblinking, blunt companion always reminding me to stay awake.
Love Life
There are times when I can stand in a place and feel like crying. The landscape shouts “remember when” and I feel the pain of choices made and not made. Time has swept it all away and for a moment I believe all things are new.
In church I listen to forgiveness and redemption. On some days I have faith. But on many others I long to be like other riders I talk with who seem to live without question or care, racing along consuming experience with smiles and a hedonistic pleasure I cant’ quite imagine. It’s not a choice I am free to make.
Investing in the Spirit
The scooter is running remarkably well since it’s recent encounter with the Vespa technician. In a few days I’ll celebrate a year of life since my heart attack. But both of us could die tomorrow for myriad reasons.
I feel blessed, no, I feel lucky that I’ve ended up where I am in this place. It’s not a result of careful planning or choice — just dumb luck like the blind squirrel finding an acorn.
Riding along Penns Creek I saw a small herd of deer splashing across the water — a scene I’ve often hoped to photograph. But a short wait revealed no more actors for my play and I moved on.
Riding creates a tapestry of experience. But more important it opens the door for questioning them — an investment in the spirit of life.
Small Scooter in a Big World
In a place where four wheel drive pick-up trucks, sport utility vehicles and powerful luxury sedans seem to be ubiquitous my choice of riding a Vespa scooter seems strangely out of place. Like the horse drawn Amish buggies common in the area. Aside from opportunity measured in available time, there is nothing that would limit me from riding across the continent on the scooter. And of course, the subconscious drivers that push riders toward big. Like those trucks and SUVs.
My choice to ride the Vespa is made with my own boatload of subconscious laws and rules.
I wasn’t exactly sure where I was when I made this picture looking south toward Ravens Knob. Wasn’t lost, just couldn’t pinpoint myself on a mental map. I make a choice to travel without a GPS device or even a map. What little adventure is left in the East is largely destroyed by the digital caretaking of a Garman or similar device.
For me, it feels good to seem lost and confused. A choice.
Into Every Life…
Rain. I knew it was coming yet I made a choice to ride telling myself that I would be home before it arrived.
Arrived in Millheim for breakfast at the Inglebean Coffee House and found the place delightfully empty. A continuation of the solitude of the road. As breakfast arrived so did friends, effectively dashing time with my journal.
I made a choice to have a conversation. It is after all, the polite thing to do. But I left wondering still about the nature of choice. Mostly I was wishing I could put it all out of my head.
And then the rain came presenting opportunities for making choices — waiting out the passing rain showers, or donning my Rev’IT rain suit that I’ve been carrying around for two years without using.
I kept riding and put on the suit.
Maybe the important thing about choice is to make them to keep moving forward.
Best decription of this particular journey: “just do it”
So where is Sunday morning riding companion on this beutiful day?
And how does the rebuilt Vespa feel?
“Just do it” works until your mind interferes with that simple thought.
This was a Saturday morning ride alone. The Vespa is running nice and feels like new. Still in love with the Vespa.
This book by the US neuroscientist explodes the myth of free will.
A subtle point but your brain has decided long before you are consciously aware of it’s decision. An interesting read. Maybe you have read it?
https://www.samharris.org/free-will
Great writing Steve! Keep it up. I enjoy reading your thoughts and words and look forward to your next adventure. Don’t ever stop. I don’t plan to.It’s too much fun!
Brent
Yes, so much of our modern lives are conditioned by others so that what we think are choices are actually the results of marketing strategies concocted in some advertising firm in a big city practice.
Good to be reminded that we can indeed choose to move and stay outside of that system.
Thanks
Ken
It’s a challenge at the very least. And many think moving outside of that system is impossible. Sort of like being a character in the movie “The Matrix”.
Ahhhh, the buckwheat fields, Steve as you know between Centre county & parts of Blair Huntingdon, Clinton, Clearifeld. My DNA was left in so many crop production fields that, I travel now and look through the window of my office on wheels and see the change in times, I’m the grandpa that mentions how that field was an easy one, or that’s where John U Stolfuse had a new team of mule’s & pulled me out & truck out a wet bottom field that he thought I could make through, I really think he wanted to show off his team.
You brought back good stuff.
We’ve known each other a long time Mike and we have turned into those reminiscing grandpas. What happened? Regardless, there aren’t many people breathing that can say an Amish team of mules pulled their truck out of the mud!
So, have you bought a scooter yet? I hope you’re not going to go down the Goldwing path again…
Spending 23 years riding with the bicycle club in Wash D C area, I developed a rule regarding rain and riding. If it’s not raining at ride start time, just go ahead and RIDE. Otherwise you’ll miss too many good rides.
Re. manicured lawns of the USA. One thing I learned traveling around the world is that over fertilized, “spectrisized” lawns is an American culture thing. Many of the countries I traveled trough do not even cut the grass! It’s simply left to outgrow the weeds, even in city parks! Lynne did some research and confirmed, manicured, cut short, green, weed and feed lawns are an American culture anomaly, not found in most other countries.
Good riding rule Robert. Maybe. It’s raining now and I’m going to ride to work. I need something more nuanced. How about, “If I’m breathing I can ride.”?
The turf industry has been successful in bringing a little bit of the English estate landscape into every home and trailer park across the country. Mowers, landscape companies, seed companies, fertilizer companies and the chemical industry all work together to make sure we’re embarrassed as hell if we don’t have a spotless lawn. A host of other industries ensures the same sort of obsessive nonsense indoors.
Oh well.
Steve;
As always, I loved your post. Excellent commentary on our culture and “choices”.
Also, your frequent observations of the road and its scenery have added new perspectives to my “solitary rides” through the landscape here where I live.
Thank you.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts Steel. Solitary riding does provide a lot of time for introspection and consideration of the world. I try to assume that is a good thing for me. I always had trouble paying attention in school. If my parents had bought me that minibike I begged for I would be a different man today!
The old saying “All who wander are not lost” comes to mind. Lovely pictures. I often feel the need to add a scooter back into my riding stable, but at this point I can’t justify the expense, maybe some day there will be a little beauty sitting in my garage. For now however I am thoroughly enjoying my NC700, it has a few scooterish qualities with the helmet storage space up front where the gas tank used to be.
I LOVE to wander. Mentally and physically. Being a dreamer with a scooter, camera and something to write with is the perfect combination.
I’ve looked at a couple NC700 motorcycles. They look pretty nice. Once you wear it out you’ll be ready for a scooter again…
The Bible tells us : “There are ways that seem right to man but the ways thereof lead to death.”
A good read about the freedom of the will is Martin Luther’s The Bondage of the Will.
Since man’s fall into sin in the garden of Eden his will is not really free. True freedom is found only in Christ Jesus our Lord. Jesus said: If you continue in my Word you will know the truth and the Truth will set you FREE.
All roads lead to death. That is a stark bit of news that many like to forget. But as you shared, the truth will set you free…