Junior. Patiently waiting for me to take his picture with my iPhone. Later, at home, I process the image further in the same device with PhotoForge. It reflects the soft and blurred vision experienced shortly after leaving bed, before breakfast, before shower, before really being ready to be in the world.
Patience is his lesson for me. An insistence that I examine my own measure of it. Something I find less of than I would have guessed. I’ve read a dog appears in your life when there is something for you to learn. I’m convinced it’s true. His simple requirements demand little more than my time but his lessons are tough. He forces me to make choices and they bring me face to face with my lack of patience. The lessons are not dissimilar from those taught by the Vespa.
New Year’s Day 2010. Morning. A quiet ride through the snowy countryside not far from home. Roads mostly clear with only patches of slippery surfaces. Unexpected slick spots require patience. To make choices. The road makes demands in the same manor Junior does. Can you accept this now?
I’m long past the simple lessons of patience while riding — those experiences with drivers on autopilot who raise my risk, of bullying horns at a traffic light when I hesitate a moment too long before moving. But alone, left to my own plans and schemes, there lies the challenge today. The Vespa instructs me and so does Junior.
I feel fortunate for two such demanding teachers.
Very nice photos!
There is much we could and should learn from our animals. Patience is a virtue. You are making me think again today.
Ah, so very true. Patience is learned and we all need teachers.
Your photo today is a lovely abstraction. Very soothing. And you are so right about this being a morning vision while re-connecting with the land of the living.
Thanks for another thought-provoking post.
Hi Steve,
What a fitting tribute to (hu) mans’ Best Friend’s! And to the patience and wisdom we do well to bring with us on winter rides.
The weather has been kind to us in Northern New England (well, at least on the New Hampshire and Vermont border, midway) …and yesterday a fellow on a Honda trail bike waved as we passed, and I passed from solitude to community (for that blessed moment).
Dear Steve:
I read your note today, and looked over at my two dogs. At that very instant, the white mutt leaned over and bit the sleeping shepherd in the ass. Madness ensued for about three minutes, before each dog went back to their respective mats.
Ten minutes later, I noticed the white one had a single eye open, and seemed to be planning to repeat the action.
What lesson should I learn from this?
Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad
Twisted Roads
It seems you are loving this pet. Really.
And I think this can be the starting of a new approach to riding as well, comparing rhythms and finding differences and similarities.
There’s no snow here, I ain’t got a dog and I just reached the 40,000 kms step some days ago in complete riding loneliness.
Another approach.
Each of us has his own.
That’s what makes us live:
being able to tell stories each other.
Ale-
L’Insetto Scoppiettante
There are alot to be learned. And I have learned alot from your post. Trully, dog’s are man’s besftriend. I like the abstract summary though.
Hi Steve…
Found your blog while searching for reviews on the GTS 300 Super. I commute daily on PX and to be honest, am a tad bit jealous of the more modern Vespa riders!
I assume all Vespa riders get a bit of bullying at the lights. If I’m up to it, I don’t give those drivers the pleasure of seeing me run-off as soon as they beep their horns. I just annoy them further by waiting a few moments more and then run off. Hah!
Patience is most certainly a virtue.
Steve:
I have changed my commute to be able to absorb the slower roads and somehow the road-racers are here too.
We miss our dogs but find more freedom without having to worry about them
bob
bobskoot: wet coast scootin
Freedom is dog. People think you are respectable when you have a Labrador walking you, rather than being a crass individualist for riding a nasty motorbike. Besides, risk, scooter-in-the-sticks’ major preoccupation in life, is nil when being walked by a dog. Unless you are riepe when pieces of your anatomy litter the house just because life without drama wouldn’t be riepe.
Charlie6: Thanks for the kind words. It’s fun to explore with the camera while riding or walking the dog.
cpa3485: It’s 11 degrees outside right now. I am trying to be patient with the weather. My gear is spread out across the hot water radiators and I am patiently waiting for it to get toasty so I can go for a ride.
Chuck: I am a morning person and probably because of the striking change of awareness when I get up. I never really thought much about it until recently.
Bob: Patience is important when riding in bad weather. I am going out shortly and already I am thinking about how to manage the possibility of ice on the road. The roads are bare and frosted with salt but all it takes is a spot where someone dropped some liquid water to create a hazard.
Dear Mr. Riepe: The lesson your canine companions seek to teach seems obvious to me — when you find something that you like, keep doing it over and over if you can.
Like eating chocolate. Or riding.
Ale: Junior has some patience trying moments but I have to admit I love the big galoot.
Still, there are times I want to be alone on the road and like you say the journey is different.
Congratulations on the 40K km mark!
./clutch: While dogs may not be for everyone they are amazing creatures. And fine subjects for pictures!
SkuterHijau: A GTS300 would be a big change from the PX. I don’t think you would ever look back if you made the change.
I try to control myself on the road when another driver ticks me off. Especially when I am on two wheels. The risk seems too big for me. Too many loons out there…
bobskoot: You are absolutely right about a dog taking away freedom. After Essa was gone it was like a new life opened up and we had no limitations or concerns about getting home. But there was something missing. I have had dogs my whole life and what they have continued to give was too much to give up. So here I am, dog laying on the floor next to me, and all is right in the world. Until he chews up my Gerbing Electric gloves or something…..
Conchscooter: You continue to emerge as the philosopher. The dog leads me down the path. Literally at times. But mostly in that spiritual way.
Junior is here to teach me a lesson. I will be glad when I get past the ones that involve chewing things.
A quiet and humble “amen”.
Thank you.
How do you make your scooter pics always looking like out of a commercial? Great photos! I hope you get to ride again soon.