Today was the first comfortable ride of 2014. At least that was what I was telling myself and from a purely physical perspective true — no chill or bite of frigid air, no fogged visor or numb fingers or toes. Spring nears and the whiteness of winter fades into dirty piles. The roads are gray with grime and grit while meltwater seeks to wipe it clean. Despite the air temperature floating in the 50s I couldn’t find much excitement in the ride. At one point on the way home from work I was telling myself I wouldn’t care if I ever rode again.
Gordon Harkins, friend, fellow Vespa rider, photographer, educator, and in this picture thinker.
Thinking, perhaps at the root of my lack of interest in riding today as I was turning over a number of non-riding interests in my head — a writing project that has rented a section of my brain for a long time has suddenly requested additional space. Add to that a slow darkroom sink refinishing process in preparation for a return to photography based in chemicals and silver. Epoxy vapors may be playing tricks on me.
It’s all Gordon’s fault.
Yesterday morning Paul Ruby (seen here with his 8×10 Sinar P view camera), Gordon and I drove out of town to make photos rather than sit at Saint’s Cafe and talk. These expeditions were common, regular rituals at one point but have become ghosts of another life. Standing in the decidedly more winter-like landscape at Black Moshannon State Park I could feel the embeds of photographic desire glow hot. I heavy sense of regret swept over me as I thought of the view cameras I’ve abandoned.
Last week Kim shared a website of the work of Michael Froio, a large format photographer working on a long term project documenting the Pennsylvania Railroad. Memories of being on the road with the big camera only added to a feeling of loss, something the Vespa could not ease or erase.
A stop on the way home as the sun was setting, a few last moments to consider the world and what the hell I’m doing in it. At that moment, and right now as I write, my interests are far from the road. In two days the epoxy in the darkroom will be cured and ready for one last coat of the nasty stuff. A dozen rolls of film await processing and fresh paper and chemistry have arrived from B&H Photo.
Can’t be sure what happens next…
Having spent many, many enjoyable and totally absorbing hours in darkrooms in the past I can relate to your desire to get back at it. There’s just something about seeing that image emerge that cannot be replicated by any digital process.
That’s a nice photo of Gordon, the thinker. And I can also believe why you look forward to some time in the darkroom. All of my stuff is still sitting in the shed. I can’t get myself to get rid of it. But that doesn’t eliminate the Vespa as a reasonable form of transportation and with a sidecar, you can even carry a large format camera, tripod and all of the other stuff that goes with it. My cousin made an 8×10 view camera that broke down into a nicely padded backpack while he was still faculty teaching photography. And he still almost exclusively shoots B&W. http://geofffricker.com
Sometimes our interests change and maybe you just need to pursue other things that may not involve riding for a bit. I have been thinking a lot about riding through the winter, because I parked the bike and decided not to be an intrepid soul this year. I have also been thinking it is not a big deal if I don’t ride either. Hmmm makes me wonder what is going on with me, because I could never get enough bike or scooter time. I am actually thinking of switching it up and going back to a scooter again. Time will tell.
The photos are beautiful! I hope when you get your dark room up and running that you will share more of your lovely photos, its always such a treat to see what you post.
Hopefully when it get warmer your love of scooting will come back more.
Hi Steve, as I await status on whether URAL has managed to ship the 2014 Patrol from NJ, I feel also your lack of enthusiasm for further riding and the feeling of encroachment from other projects…..the look of “old snow” that’s been dirtied is quite depressing, isn’t it?
I know what you mean about things in our past that we miss. View cameras and regular outdoor photo outings. Jerry K. I feel the things in my past are preparing me for my next adventure. All that experience in my background has prepared me for what I’m going to do today. I feel liberated because I can do what ever I want at this point in my life. Well within limits.
I let my bikes sit for the winter. At one time I had to ride every day. When I finally got a car to use in bad weather the bike sat for a couple of months, unused, even on some nice days. It took a year before the itch burned again.
Steve: as we age (sorry old man) we tend to think about happenings not directly associated with our other hobbies/tranport. You think of what you may have not done along the path of life, your now married daughter, Junior, your wife things that are not directly involved with the Vespa. All very natural. Your expose of health probelms a year or so past allowed us an insight into your personal affairs, and I often wonder how your physical body is surviving.
As you know due to continung severe
health issues I no longer ride and sadly most any machine be it scooter or motorcycle is still way too small to accomodate my massive frame. So be it. March 11 had to drive to Toronto to collect some legal documents; and there a few larger motorcycles on the multiple lane highways mostly bMW people full dressed and they looked cold. It was maybe 09 degrees C out there however seeing motorcycles on the roads are like birds appearing and chirping in the spring. Mind the next day we had some eleven inches of heavy wet snow which now remains and no more motorcycles all over again!
Canajun,
Working in a black and white darkroom is a unique experience that has rewards beyond the print — for me at least. I’ve missed it though I will have to wait to see how I feel once I am sloshing chemicals again.
RichardM: I was talking to a colleague today about sidecars and did a yeoman’s job of pushing them. They still remain outside my interest circle for now but I suspect someday that will change. At least for a main form of transport.
Looked at your cousin’s website — exceptional work. Makes me want to buy another 8×10 view camera!
Dar: One of the exciting parts of life is change. You never know what is going to come down the road or how you are going to feel about things. So it is with riding.
I feel the scooter riding flame bursting into life…
Charlie6: Old snow is just sad.
Can’t wait to read about your further adventures on the new URAL. What are your plans for this year?
Steve, well assuming I don’t succumb to impatience, there’s the introduction of the new rig to favorite destinations….Durango looms in the fall for a reunion with friends….we shall see
Paul: It’s all fun right now to be out in the world making photographs. I do miss the ritual and process of working with the view camera. Nothing like it. A digital camera may make a fine image but the workflow is alien…
kz1000st: I hope it doesn’t take a year for the riding itch to return to me. But if that is the case then I’ll find some other way to engage the world…
Bryce Lee: I’m still fortunate that most days I don’t feel old though in my youthful haste I can often find myself winded or reminded by aching knees or feet that I should take it easy. My health is generally very good thanks to the miracle of pharma which I can only hope keeps me well and doesn’t decide to fry my liver.
But that’s part of life I suppose and I’ll continue to work in the ways that seem important and just let things sort out as they will…
Hope all is well with you north of the border.