Exploring life on a Vespa Scooter and Royal Enfield Himalayan motorcycle.
Paul Ruby, Photographer, Rider, eBay EntrepreneurWhile it may be a shock to my friend Paul Ruby, I’m not surprised he’s managed to pull together a photography exhibition of photographs he’s made of his significant other, Mary Margaret. The show opens tomorrow, Friday, March 2, with an opening reception from 5-8pm at the Art Alliance Gallery Downtown in State College, Pennsylvania.Continue Reading
Comparing anything, motorcycles and scooters included, invariably leads many to the mental trap of “which is better?”. As I think about all the times I’ve engaged in that pointless battle — which is the better camera, tripod, paint, microwave oven, car, faucet, tile, window — you get the picture, it’s been a complete waste of time. I will battle on though to rationalize my decision making process though. I’m that dumb. And so it goes with the Ducati vs. Vespa as it turned in my head during a ride to breakfast that my friend Paul and I undertook over the weekend.
Before delving into anything related to the machines or the ride I need to say something about the photography, or more specifically, the camera used. I’ve misplaced my trusty Canon G15 point and shoot and was left with only the iPhone to make images. Normally I would have gone to great lengths to find something to shoot with but on this morning I decided to let go of image making. It was not easy but well worth the struggle.
The iPhone 4 makes reasonably good images and I put it to use a few times during the ride. But mostly I found myself riding unencumbered by any concerns to document or illustrate what I was seeing or thinking. Many rides are filled with a mental narration that can consume the experience as I commit more and more mental resources towards photography. On this day I found that I got to a point where my mind was, well, empty. I was just on the Vespa flying down the road.
Paul’s Ducati Hypermotard is a pretty thing. He got rid of his Ducati 1198 to make room for this one in the garage. A lot more fun and more comfortable to ride in my opinion though each rider has their own taste in machinery. He acquired it on eBay and had to go to Mobile, Alabama to pick it up. He really wanted the Hypermotard. It does have a nice, throaty engine sound and can easily leave the Vespa evaporated in it’s rear view mirrors but on a ride through the countryside for breakfast it didn’t come up.
As fall approaches the world starts to change. The soybean fields are turning yellow in preparation for harvest and the atmosphere is just perfect for riding. There’s a trade off to keeping the power of the Ducati in check — foregoing dazzling speed for the dazzling scenery. The Vespa isn’t capable of dazzling speed but I suspect you can’t pay a lot of attention to the roses when you are dazzled.
During a stop for pictures Paul had me ride circles around him so he could get an action picture. I reminded him to make the scooter and I look heroic. He succeeded in making me look like the circus bear riding a bicycle. So much for heroics. I will say the scooter looks really clean — a testament to the dishonesty of photography.
When we left State College, Pennsylvania there were a number of options for route and breakfast eateries. Paul left it to me to choose so I thought I would surprise him by deviating from our normal 20 mile ride to breakfast by increasing the distance to 60 miles. For a moment I thought rain might intrude despite the forecast calling for sunshine. I didn’t care though having not been on the Vespa all week. And the Ducati, nice and shiny as it is, could use a bit of rain to humble itself. Turned out things remained dry.
The official Ducati portrait for Paul’s website. I’ve been photographing him with his scooters and motorcycles for 20 years or so. He has quite a collection. I’ll try and get him to pose again when I have a real camera available.
It is a nice bike.
This portrait was made just a few miles from one of the breakfast establishments Paul has trying to get me to for the past couple years — Mamie’s in Martinsburg, Pennsylvania. Luckily, the surprise remained intact until we pulled into the parking lot because for all the riding in Pennsylvania Paul possesses a common talent of not really being aware of where he is. Or so it seems to me.
Mamie’s has great food and the fresh baked donuts are to die for. I forgot how good they were. If you pass anywhere near this part of Pennsylvania you must stop for breakfast or lunch.
The Ducati vs. Vespa question surfaced a few more times on the way home. Once on a three exit run on Interstate 99 as I watched the Ducati in my rearview mirror as we tooled along at 70 mph. Even though he could go a lot faster the beating by the wind wouldn’t be any better than what I was experiencing on the Vespa. Those naked bikes stick you right in the middle of things.
And a bee in my helmet and subsequent sting brought the Vespa to a rapid halt along a rural road with Paul following closely. The Hypermotard seems able and agile in negotiating pavement to gravel in a hurry.
Damn bees. It’s been awhile since I had to content with that stuff.
All in all a great ride. First time with the new (used) Ducati. At this point I’d say the score is Ducati 1, Vespa 1. Arrived home with just shy of another 120 miles added to the clock and a smile on my face.
Can I ask for more?
My friend Paul doesn’t always live up to my expectations of a Harley rider. There is no black leather or biker look – at least in my own image of what that is. There are times when he does live up to it though. At 7:45am on Saturday while I was getting the Vespa ready to ride into town to meet Paul I watched a rumbling Road King pass by the house, it’s rider in a black T-shirt, shaved head, no helmet, jeans, and black leather engineer boots. I’m standing in the driveway pulling on overpants and a windbreaker underneath my armored jacket being the sissy. The temperature was 67 degrees. Cold for me on a bike. Or scooter. But that was a Harley rider. Paul is like that too. He under-dresses in my opinion at times. Just not in a manner that fits my image of a Harley-Davidson rider. We stopped on the way out of town so he could add another layer. A red windbreaker. I found out yesterday that the jacket belonged to a woman he is dating. Just happened to be in the sidebag.
We planned to ride from State College to Belleville for breakfast via the scenic route over Pine Grove Mountain. Paul was on his new Harley Crossbones that he bought on eBay. That’s not how a person should come to Harley is it? Shouldn’t there be some sort of ritual involving beer and blood or something? I guess I am remembering the brother of my best friend growing up back in the 1960s outside of Pittsburgh. He dropped out of high school, got himself a girlfriend to impregnate, kept a chopper in his dingy apartment, got arrested for trying to buy morphine (again) at a local pharmacy with a fake prescription and generally involved himself in a slow but steady decline. He’s in a nursing home now at age 60 after some acquaintances pitched him down some stairs for some breach in etiquette. Perhaps my vision of the Harley has been perverted. Maybe I have attitude. I still like some of them though. The lingering effects of Then Came Bronson perhaps.
Saturday morning was lovely with temperatures hovering just under 70 degrees. We stopped a few times to make pictures but I generally am not motivated photographically when the sun is out and the skies are blue. Paul took charge since he was in the lead. Whenever he pulled over to shoot something I pulled out the camera and snapped a shot. Like the one above just outside McAlevey’s Fort.
The lake at Greenwood Furnace State Park reflects the serenity of the day. The road was as peaceful as that picture looks disturbed only by the rumble of my Vespa and Paul’s Harley.
We stopped at the Belleville Livestock Auction facility to see if the little diner there was open for breakfast. It wasn’t but I had the opportunity to photograph Paul in a heroic pose more in keeping with part of my Harley vision. Something better aligned with the Marlboro image too.
But then he goes and wrecks it by saying; “Take my picture with straw on my head.” I oblige but what the hell is that all about? Isn’t he afraid his Crossbones will be repossessed?
On to Dairyland in Reedsville for breakfast. I make the obligatory photo of my Vespa in front of the big cow. I feel like a tourist. Everyone is watching me. I imagine them thinking “how cool is that fellow…”
Breakfast is good. The standard scrambled eggs, home fries and toast for me. I passed on the bacon for some stupid reason I regret now. But it was fine. While dining a fellow who saw our cameras stopped to suggest we might want to photograph an Amish barn raising about 5 miles down the valley. I’m thinking he’s setting us up; it’s a trap where our machines will be appropriated. Another Amish criminal sting operation. That’s where my head is.
Paul doesn’t take his Harley ownership lightly. He keeps the machine sparkling and he displays the requisite number of skulls on his clothing. But something still feels off to me.
Sure enough there actually was a barn raising. From the safe distance of the road I make a few pictures. Paul on the other hand rides his Harley down the farm lane and right up to the barn to talk with the Amish workers. He’s fearless that way. I suppose that’s why he’s on a Harley and I’m on a Vespa.
While he learns about post and beam construction I talk with the milk cans. Actually I thought this sort of operation was illegal now in Pennsylvania. In days gone by the bulk milk trucks would pick these things up and take them to the milk plant. But as I understand things the milk has to remain refrigerated from farm to plant. Maybe these are just for decoration.
It was a fine morning ride. Sixty miles or so for breakfast and a barn raising. A good day and a good ride with a friend. Even if he doesn’t fit my vision of a Harley rider.