Pine Needle Pathway
From deep inside I feel the coming of winter. That time of magnificent transition in the northeast part of America is autumn. It has a unique scent and color palette; the feel of the air on skin is prickles a ripple of events in the body that resonate with some ancient, primal programming that whispers of endings and decay. And with it, for me at least, comes a rush of melancholy swirling around all those things that I’ve lost in this short life.
Walking through the woods I can feel it. As the cycle of the season rolls on we head to the quiet death of winter.
Modern life has certainly masked those whispers making it possible to be deaf to them completely. Ample food, shelter and clothes challenge even the most bitter weather. I confess my own guilt and reliance on technology to blunt the lessons programmed by DNA for survival — triggered by the coming of autumn.
In the Driveway
As a rider autumn stirs different thoughts. Where are my electric gloves? Pay attention to the wet leaves on the road. When do I mount the winter tires? Start thinking more clearly about riding gear and the cooler weather.
Pushing the Vespa scooter from the garage last week I could see the leaves gathering on the driveway. The temperature this morning was 34F — a shocking cold compared to the balmly weather to this point.
Riding now grows a bit more complicated. Weather, road conditions and gear all demand more attention. The rides remain a powerful aspect of my daily life but they’re different. In part because of those technical changes, but mostly because my thoughts change. The autumn melancholia seizes me and won’t let go.
Autumn Sky
I wonder what my father and mother would think of me now, riding a Vespa, traveling on two wheels, something they forbid growing up. My thoughts hover on the people in my life that I’ve lost.
Looking toward the mountains I think of the walks I made with my mother through the German and Austrian Alps. A bowl of hot chicken noodle soup in an Alpine restaurant. My hands tightly gripping a steel cable as she led me up a rock face to admire a cross placed on a mountain top. I miss her most strongly in autumn.
Riding provides time to think. And with it comes feelings. Often excitement and thrills. But sometimes sadness and the pain of loss. Autumn reminds me that I only have a fixed amount of time — to live, to love, to bear witness to this world.
Autumn Landscape
My experience is not unique. Others have shared similar experiences with melancholy surfacing in autumn. My wife describes it as a fear of losing everything. I understand. And I know those feelings are, well, feelings, and not necessarily a harbinger of reality.
Standing on a hillside not far from home I think about the forest in front of me and how it has changed. Heavily forested at one point and stripped bared another. Things change. And me with them.
Autumn Vespa Riding
Riding this time of year in central Pennsylvania is nothing short of an orgy of the senses. The colors seem to shift by the minute toward a red-orange celebration of light. Each turn in the road reveals a different portrait of the season. The fragrance of decaying leaves provides a savory counterpoint to the sweetness of cut hay or harvested corn.
Autumn also marks the beginning of my riding season. The time where I wake to the world on two wheels. Where the miles on the odometer start to add up.
Saint’s Cafe
Autumn reminds me of the past. Memories from the past are distillations of events that stand out in their simplicity. Walking through a forest with my father. Or seeing him behind the wheel of our Volkswagen Campmobile as we drove west to Colorado. Hearing him call me “boy.”
Thinking of my own simple acts — time spent in cafes with my journal; watching people, evaesdropping on conversations and playing the spy. Saint’s Cafe in State College, Pennsylvania will certainly haunt my memories.
Riders Diminish in Autumn
Autumn means fewer scooters and motorcycles on the road. Many seem to pack it in on Labor Day, following the closings of parks and swimming pools as if it might snow at any moment. Before long I’ll feel alone on the road. And worry that drivers give up their recognition of motorcycles on Labor Day as well.
Ascendance of Hot Tea
Tea is better in autumn. Wrapping my hands around a hot cup is heavenly when the cold air has rendered fingers and joints into icy meat. I wonder if people look at me as caress the cup, face lingering in the steam, eyes staring back in time.
When I’m questioned about Scooter in the Sticks I tend not to say a lot about the technical aspects of riding. Autumn fires the mind and spirit despite any sadness of loss that comes with it, and I remember why I write and post photographs. I don’t want to miss or forget what it means to be alive. Riding is one avenue toward that awareness. Photography can add markers to tag an experience. But writing reaches in to clutch those thoughts and feelings that I may otherwise miss.
Just a few thoughts on autumn.
Another enjoyable essay, with awesome photographs to boot.
I enjoy the season, but with a gnawing sense of impending loss as well….scooting, for one, but working in the yard, straying outdoors without bundling up, green things..
There’s a steady progression of responses to the cold with my riding: First getting rid of my mesh jacket and gloves, then the tall screen, a thicker buff, add the insulated jacket liner (today), finally the gauntlet gloves. Eventually I’ll tire of fighting the cold, or get freaked out by frost on the road, and it will be time for the battery tender. Time to spend more time indoors with a map plotting next years’ adventures…..
Thanks for the kind words on the essay and photos Dave. Sometimes things just fall into place.
Others have shared their own sense of impending loss in autumn. Enough that it seems common if not universal.
I fear the cold weather will begin to take a toll on my riding because of arthritis and blood thinning medication. Over the past two years I can see how my willingness to fight the cold is diminishing. On the plus side — the winters haven’t been severe. So there are more reasonable days to ride.
Soon though, the Battery Tender will get plugged in.
Very colorful changes with your trees. All we ever get is yellow. Red is unusual. Your riding miles increase once Autumn rolls around, eh? Is that due to the better (cooler, less humid) riding weather? But that seems to be the exception. I wonder why…
Yes, I usually put more miles on from September to May than the rest of the year. I just don’t like the heat. Once the temperature gets to 85F it’s just kind of miserable.
That said, the cold has begun to get to me. I have to be more careful now because some medical issues make things dicey if I get too cold.
As my father often told me, “It’s hell to get old boy.”
Pine Needle Pathway, requires a black sheep dog or two to liven the scene.
And you wife is correct, all that was familiar is no more. Am experiencing similar. It’s been now 11 years since my first fateful diagnosis of first Lupus then Sjogren’s followed by major surgery and cancer. Now am feeling the effect of four years of chemo as my physical structure slowly erodes. time to give up many things including photography which meant carrying a photographic device of some sort.
The autumn this year seems to be upon us sooner, in my area too of Southern Ontario the leaves keep falling, sooner than later. So methinks we shall be in for a sooner than later winter. My advice is keep riding, maybe put those specialty snow tires on the Vespa?
Oh and keep doing what you do so well; write and blog and enjoy hot tea at Saints Cafe. As I write this the afternoon of October 17, 2017 I too have a cup of hot Red Rose tea by my side.
We should have taken the dogs, or a dog, on that walk. Next time.
There are a lot of brilliant photographic options available now. While you may not be hauling a heavy camera and tripod, the micro 4/3 cameras, and even the iPhones make some outstanding images.
Autumn has swept through quickly. Faster than I like. After some near freezing mornings we have a reprieve. I’m not ready for the cold. The winter Vespa tires are in the garage. At some point I’ll have them mounted. They make a difference on cold pavement, wet pavement and loose snow.
I think there’s a lot of hot tea in my future.
Pine Needle Pathway, requires a black sheep dog or two to liven the scene.
And you wife is correct, all that was familiar is no more. Am experiencing similar. It’s been now 11 years since my first fateful diagnosis of first Lupus then Sjogren’s followed by major surgery and cancer. Now am feeling the effect of four years of chemo as my physical structure slowly erodes. time to give up many things including photography which meant carrying a photographic device of some sort.
The autumn this year seems to be upon us sooner, in my area too of Southern Ontario the leaves keep falling, sooner than later. So methinks we shall be in for a sooner than later winter. My advice is keep riding, maybe put those specialty snow tires on the Vespa?
Oh and keep doing what you do so well; write and blog and enjoy hot tea at Saints Cafe. As I write this the afternoon of October 17, 2017 I too have a cup of hot Red Rose tea by my side. It feels warm and safe.
I’m not a fan of Fall. Pretty leaves and pumpkin fever just don’t mask the onset of frigid temperatures, salt covered roads and home bound weeks on end. I can only hope the mild season continues for a few more weeks before the cold inevitably comes.
I’m getting there. At least with winter. Love the look but that’s about it.
Color, texture, temperature: Autumn bringa all this to the fore, and as we’ve whisked around both Austria and the Czech Republic, the turn of color has been *as thrilling here. That said, as soon as I’m back in town, guess what’s on the agenda for lor riding?
Your Vespa in a pile of autumn leaves?
Nope…covered and in the shed. Probably will just need topping off the tires and some serious running around to pep up the battery. I try to treat her reasonably well. 🙂
I’m not there yet. Well, I’ll soon plugin the Battery Tender but the weather isn’t cold enough yet.
Met a couple of the local lads for a Cortado this late morning and we then rode to the Box Social in Elora for lunch. Beautiful Fall day, perhaps a little windy but mild and sunny nonetheless. Rides this time of the year in our part of Ontario can be a bit of a roll of the dice, our season is slowly drawing to a close. Indeed a reflective time re our cycling seasons but I sometimes wonder if it would better or perhaps worse if I was able to ride year round. Would it become old hat, would I enjoy it less, would it be less special as I run out of roads and routes within striking distance? Fall is indeed an opportunity to stall, reflect, appreciate and take stock. I look forward to this time of year despite knowing the it signals the end of another riding season. A little sweet and sour in that!
I wonder as well if easy, year round riding would become boring. I suppose it would depend on where you are and how much time and motivation you have to ride.
Part of my year round riding was based on not wanting to winterize the scooter. I’ve never done that because I was riding throughout the year. But as the cold becomes a bigger barrier that could change.
Until then, I’ll keep riding.
Wow, the quiet death of Winter? That’s a bit depressing…I like Winter, the clean look everything gets under a blanket of new snow, the crisp air, the opportunity for three-wheeled riding in fun conditions (mostly)….
Depressing? I was thinking more of the dying of plants and such and the quiet that comes in the natural world.
I used to love winter for the reasons you highlight. But the medication I now take post heart attack has me feeling the cold differently. Maybe it’s just the aging process. The bigger concern is an autoimmune condition that affects my feet and toes. If they get too cold, they blister and get nasty. I don’t want to go through that again this season. Just charged by battery powered heated insoles. If I can keep my feet warm my whole outlook on the world changes!