Thanks for the kind words about the things I post on Scooter in the Sticks. Noticing details in the world and pursuing a more tranquil state of mind is a big part of why I ride. Even though I ridden a lot of motorcycles I’ve not stayed with one long enough to know whether I could find the same.

We have two big black dogs. They are a type of Belgian Shepherd known as a Belgian Sheepdog or the Belgian Groenendael, aka Belgian Sheepdog (longhaired black). The other varieties are:

the Belgian Tervuren (longhaired fawn/mahogany)
the Belgian Malinois (shorthaired fawn/mahogany) (This type is used now by the military)
the Belgian Laekenois (roughhaired fawn)

Lily is the female with upright ears. She’s the niece of Junior. He has floppy ears which would disqualify him in the show ring. And he is over sized as well which could disqualify him.

They are both great dogs!

I’ll definitely reach out the next time I know I’m heading your way Joe.

There’s a lot of luck and chance in the things I find photographically. That’s usually the easy part. Having something to say, that’s the challenge. This entire summer I’ve felt empty in that regard. Hopefully just a passing thing.

Halloween is just around the corner. I’ve begun to see the decorations here as well.

I agree with the theory of longevity. But because labor costs for maintenance are so high, the repair costs on a $3500 machine feel out of whack compared to a $15000 car. When I still had contacts with Piaggio their North American Product Manager for the Vespa line told me that 100K miles would not be a problem if the machine was maintained correctly. Part of the maintenance would include some relatively expensive wear items.

Anyway, I have no plans to abandon my Vespa. If it dies, I’ll cross that bridge then.

Absolutely true. Just getting out and engaging always works. Waiting for inspiration or motivation — not so well. The wandering is good tonic.

Like you, I retired fairly recently. Although I have a big Guzzi, I often take the Vespa over the winding country roads around here (I am in New Zealand). It encourages more relaxed riding, and I notice more of the details of everyday life around me. I love your blog for the photos and the tranquil feeling of it.
I also love your big black dog shown above – can you tell me what breed it is, please?

Cheers,
Jim.

-Joe

I am always torn where my equipment is concerned. I keep things too long because I ascribe life to them. I am so in touch with my machines listening to signs of an ailment that they become alive to me. That makes unloading them difficult. After working on them, seeing their mechanical intestines and restoring their health connects me to them. Keep the Vespa. In this 21st century thirty thousand miles is barely broken in. You wouldn’t ditch a car with so few miles, the Vespa should be built to last to over 100,000 miles.

I sense the truth in this every time I feel photographically stuck or just plain caught up in a funk. Aimlessly wandering is a tonic for all manner of ailments.

Wander on Steve.

I would be waiting a long time for a train on this stretch of track. It’s still used but I would be surprised if a train passed once a week. There are far busier places for those kind of pictures.

Retirement has been an interesting ride so far. It’s allowed some mental explorations of what I really want to do with my time on the earth, expectations I have, and how real or reasonable any of them are. My health lingers in the background but surfaces occasionally as I wonder when something will change. Pointless ponderings but difficult to set aside at times.

Mostly I keep my eyes open and keep exploring.

I agree — candid street photography is tough. There are technical challenges but to me those pale in the face of the emotional part of confronting strangers with a camera. My new Fuji X-Pro1 is suited to that kind of work — quiet and fast. I’ve been playing but not sure if I’m all that interested in the street. Shooting from the hip with the camera pre-focused. It’s fun to see what transpired. One of these days I’ll find the courage to bring the camera to my eye…