Working with Stone
Evidence of work; an iPhone image at dusk of of a series of meandering stone steps rising through a steep part of our woodland garden. A day ago this was thick with mountain laurel, ferns and other plants. Even the dogs had trouble penetrating this area. While sitting in my little chair in the garden with a bowl of cereal I decided another pathway was necessary and abandoned plans to ride the Vespa.
A lesson in balancing riding with life.
Blue Skies over Central Pennsylvania
Balance has never been an easy state to achieve as I can become obsessively focused on a task — particularly one as enjoyable as riding. A week ago I was on the road and enjoying the clear air and low humidity on a morning ride in central Pennsylvania. It would be a lie to suggest any sort of balance — I was just doing what I wanted to do — ride the Vespa scooter.
On a Clear Day You Can See for Miles
The riding weather a week ago was exceptional — not too hot and low humidity. As the week progressed the temperatures climbed along with the feeling that everything was moist. I confess a level of disappointment riding on sunny days. Everything seems too easy and relaxed with little natural drama to behold. It affects my desire to make photographs too. Everything looks like a postcard which to me translates as boring.
Still the desire to ride wins out and I headed south out of town to no where in particular.
Hot Rod and Scooter
This ’32 Ford Hot Rod looked dazzling in the parking lot at the Spruce Creek Bakery. My father always talked about building one of these but ended up always working on some other more conventionally useful and adult project. I’m not sure how his example informs my own behavior.
The owner told me this was a kit car and not build from a ’32 Ford. And I think it has a Chevy engine complete with some snazzy looking Offenhauser heads and dual four-barrel carbs on an Edelbrock high rise intake manifold. For a few moments these brands transported me back to hours spent on a creeper underneath cars dreaming of building fast cars. Those motor head days are behind me.
The chrome sparkled in the sunlight. I bought chocolate chip cookies at the bakery.
Waiting for Trains
If I ever hope to photograph the scooter with a train I need to coordinate schedules better. These two tracks carry all the freight and passengers back and forth across Pennsylvania. As I write this passage I struggle to remember how I got to this place. I do remember a spark of excitement at the possibility of seeing a train. My wife’s cousin was an engineer for Penn Central then Conrail and finally Norfolk Southern until his retirement. He spent years running trains east to Philadelphia and west as far as Chicago.
I’ve still not ridden a train in the United States. That’s a sin.
Leaving the Allegheny Plateau
The morning evaporated during a long, meandering ride through three counties and across the ridge and valley region and onto the Allegheny Plateau. As I stood along the road making this picture I felt an odd satisfaction knowing the Vespa had transported me to this point all the way from the horizon. By the time I would return home the scooter and I would ride another 120 miles.
Children of the Corn
This time of year the cornfields are beginning to soar across the wide agricultural valleys of Pennsylvania. I’m grateful to be able to so easily escape the noise and confusion of town so quickly and easily to find myself standing somewhere and look to the horizon and know there’s more of the same rural landscape.
Thinking about balance while riding usually means an eye on the clock to be home by a certain time. Kim wants to see me. The dogs demand my presence. It’s an old balance.
The Big Vespa
I was surprised to see the Big Vespa sculpture on a trailer on my way home. At one point the creator, William Snyder III, was going to set it up at my house for awhile as a temporary storage site until a better location surfaced. Will and I were in art school together. I photograph a Vespa. He builds monuments to them.
This one is 16 feet tall.
Arriving home, tired, sated with riding, hungry and smiling inside I’m uncertain if I’ve learned anything about balancing riding with life.
Perhaps I’m looking at it all wrong. Maybe riding is life…
I am craving balance.
Here it is, mid-July, the weather is spectacular, amd my time is totally consumed by our home renovations.
The house is looking better now, and I know this is work best done quickly, but it’s getting to be tiresome.
Speaking of home that stonework in the garden is beautiful.
Balance is never easy to come by. For me at least. I can well imagine a new house consuming any kind of balance. Hopefully you’ll find some rest soon.
I love working with stones. If I were 40 years younger I might consider becoming a stone mason…
My wife craves balance. I crave the ability to help my wife be a happier person. As for trains, I had lived in 2 places where I could hear the train roll by, I wouldn’t mind a third. At this point in life I have only ridden tourist trains, I plan on riding longer ones. The big Vespas are very cool!
I could here trains where I grew up from birth to age nine. Boat horns too. And then we moved near an airport. Nothing romantic about the sounds of jets overhead.
I think that big Vespa sculpture is for sale!
I second David’s comment about the stonework. It looks even better than the ’32 Ford replica. It sounds like it’s time for a train adventure even if it is just to New York or D.C.. Can you check a Vespa as luggage?
Thanks for the kind words about the stonework. My back appreciates them.
Definitely want to make a train trip to NYC to visit a friend. Sadly, the Vespa will stay at home.
For some reason my comment seems to have vanished in the black hole known as WordPress.
I second David’s comment about your stone walkway. It looks fabulous. Maybe even more so than the ’32 Ford replica. It also sounds like you need a train trip even if it’s just to NYC or D.C.. Do they allow you to check your Vespa on the train?
Sorry about the posts. For some reason your stuff often goes into the SPAM folder. I keep telling WordPress you’re a decent guy.
Hmmm, testing 1-2-3. Multiple comment attempts.
I’ll have to check and see if I’ve somehow excluded Alaska from posting…
Steve: you touched on so many good themes in this piece! I love the pic of the GTS with the 32 kit car. Those Offy heads are gorgeous, although I would have chosen a more practical carb set up. Those headers look seriously loud; but if it has a tall cam, I bet the sound is music. That pic also takes me back to the days when I had to work on my fun cars as I was growing up in the 70s — a 1970 Pontiac Firebird Formula 400, a 1967 GTO with a seriously hot motor, and a 1969 442 convertible that was just plain fun to drive around. I had to do the work myself — and teach myself how as I went — because I didn’t have any money to pay anyone else to do it! Clutches, head gaskets, water pumps, distributors, transmissions, you name it. Fond and dirty memories!
Also like the RR tracks and the GTS. Too bad you didn’t happen upon a train while there; it would have made a cool picture. Since you haven’t ridden a domestic train, you should make that a bucket list item. One of my favorite memories is riding the Southern Crescent from Atlanta to DC (and back) around 1968 or 69 with a bunch of my elementary school Safety Patrol colleagues. Still a great way to travel when time is not the transcendent factor on the trip.
Sounds like the cars of your youth have the same names as the ones I liked. I lusted after a ’67 “goat”. And the 442 was awesome. Learning to work on cars was a lot easier back then. These new ones are a nightmare…
Someday I am going to board a train. Someday.