Scooter in the Sticks

Exploring life on a Vespa Scooter and Royal Enfield Himalayan motorcycle.

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Personal Riding Mantra

May 23, 2016 by Scooter in the Sticks 26 Comments

I have a personal riding mantra — don’t rush, go slow, be present. It’s in my head during the ride and reaches into the rest of my life.

Do you have a mantra?

Vespa GTS scooter on a rainy roadDon’t Rush — Vespa on Wet Roads

After a long work week, I was looking forward to a ride on the Vespa.  Waking to rain on Saturday morning was a disappointment.  In part, because I wanted to do some work in the garden and around the house.  But mostly because I couldn’t ride.

Or so my brain was telling me.

When I have the chance to sit still and think, I can often see the tricks my mind plays. Like fueling assumptions about weather and riding.

On the road,  my riding mantra calls on me to slow down and step away from the more frenetic pace that’s so easy to drown in.  Not rushing is important in making clear decisions.  And when the roads are wet.

Riding along the silver threads of pavement winding through the central Pennsylvania forests is always a pleasure.  Especially when I’m not in a rush.

fiddleheads and Vespa scooterGo Slow — See More

It’s hard to go slower than stop.  Bringing the scooter to a halt along the road gave me an opportunity to witness the lush growth all around.  Especially the fiddleheads unfurling in the rain.  Can’t remember ever seeing one through the windshield of the car.  Or even on the scooter unless I stop to look around.  A friend and experienced photographer once told me you don’t see anything unless you’re traveling less than 35mph.  I’m not that good and have adjusted the speed to 25mph or less.

Except for limited access highways the maximum speed limit on Pennsylvania roads is 55mph.  And most small secondary roads, the ones I love to prowl, the limit is even lower.  Learning to ride slowly is an art.  I know few riders who have mastered it.

Everyone seems to be in a hurry.

Vespa GTS scooter on wet gravel roadRiding Inventory

Alone on the road, traveling at a pace that allows a bit of time to digest the surroundings and entertain thoughts, often leads me to think about who I am as a rider.  Slow going, loner, keeping to the little roads and consuming time rather than miles.  At least for now.

Don’t rush, go slow, be present.  That works.  So does the scooter.

The places I ride, like this road in Rothrock State Forest, afford a slow and ambling pace.  Saw a black bear loping along the road once.

Vespa along a mountain streamPrimeval Riding

In my first age of riding the Vespa was fun.  Still is.  But over time it has become much more.  Anyone who’s advanced past the occasional rider stage knows how addictive it can be.  And it’s not just about movement or speed.  There’s a blossoming of the senses that lay dormant in most other vehicles or places.

I ask myself if I would pick my way across a stream if I didn’t have a camera.  Just to look around?  Would I stop at all?  Yes, maybe, I don’t know.  What I do know is that I see things while riding.  And I see more when I’m going slow.

Vespa GTS scooter on a wet roadBe Present

As a kid I wandered and explored the woods nearly every chance I could.  Now, 55 years later, I still am.  A big old kid.  One signal that I’m not a kid is the increasing difficulty I have climbing up the bank along the road.  As a kid I would never worry about twisting my ankle or breaking a leg.

It’s hell to get old.

But it’s good to still have the desire to explore and be present in the world.  And my life.  As best I can.

Dame' Rocket with a Vespa scooterSmell the Roses

Or Dame’s Rocket in this case. Hesperis matronalis for the botanists who read Scooter in the Sticks.  It’s blooming everywhere here now and drapes the already beautiful roadways with white and purple flowers.

Can’t say I’ve ever seen another scooter or motorcycle along the road with the rider stealing a sniff of any of nature’s fragrant gifts.

Have you ever stopped to smell the roses or am I turning into an old eccentric rider?

cookies in the Pump Station CafeThe Cookie Mantra

Among the vices I feel comfortable writing about are cookies.  Small round rewards for the good ride, the ride where for a few minutes at least I’ve dwelled attentively in the world.  Tea, cookies and a few scribbled notes in a journal provide a non-moving way to connect with life.

Perhaps it has it’s own mantra — don’t rush, go slow, be present.  Otherwise I’d make short work of those cookies…

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Road View

February 28, 2016 by Scooter in the Sticks 5 Comments

child sitting on a neighborhood streetLife on the Road

I remember Idaho Street and summers picking at tar strips in the concrete streets where I grew up.  Bicycle riding and baseball games took place there along with hopscotch and squirt gun fights.  Even before my second birthday I had found another world on the road.

Steve Williams looking at the roadRoad Study

Nearly sixty years later I still appreciate the road and the world which unfolds upon it.  Riding has brought me in close contact with the road —  looking closely at its physical properties as they relate to riding, and considering the metaphysical properties of riding itself.

I still like touching the road.

an empty roadWhere it Ends Nobody Knows

Round and round we go.  I love the road — on two wheels, in a car or on foot.  The road is a mystery of which I continue to attempt to unravel.  I took a road view as a kid and am still doing the same thing now.

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Perpetual Journey

January 9, 2016 by Scooter in the Sticks 14 Comments

“I tramp a perpetual journey.”
― Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

cup of tea at Saint's CafeIf I’m on a perpetual journey there’s always a cup of tea along the way.  My life is paved with simple pleasures.  As the road winds through field and forest the sounds, sights and smells spark joy and make the journey tolerable in foul weather and thrilling in good.  It’s true for riding a Vespa and in a metaphoric application to life in general.

Journeying into the new year has brought me through a new professional landscape as I puzzle through new work and responsibilities.  The trip has forced the Vespa scooter into a quiet nursing of electric on the little black wire to a Battery Tender Junior 12V Battery Charger.  No riding this week as part of the perpetual journey.

But all is not lost…

View through the window at Saint's Cafe in State College, PennsylvaniaA familiar path to Saint’s Cafe has reopened a photographic door to a fallow creative field, one in which I’ve labored to plant with a renewed interest in photography beyond producing images for Scooter in the Sticks.  It’s been a long time since I’ve exhibited a project, or anything for that matter, and I’ve begun contemplating an exhibit of words and images involving life on a Vespa — a version of this blog which would live in a physical space.

Planning and building an exhibit is no small task considering the time involved to conceptualize a collective message, envision a visual experience and invest in the printing and presentation necessary for installation of a body of work.  On the blog it’s simple and inexpensive.  Not so much in the physical world.  And aside from framing, one of the biggest challenges is the printmaking process.

Paul Ruby at Saint's Cafe in State College, PennsylvaniaA journey can be made easier with a companion.  As I begin exploring a photographic project my friend, photographer and rider Paul Ruby has provided support and inspiration to keep moving when the road becomes steep and rocky.  Watching his ongoing photographic work along with others has led me to purchase an Epson SureColor P800 Inkjet Printer — a magnificent printer that produces amazing inkjet prints of archival quality that are worthy of hanging on a wall for others to see.  With the capacity to use 17 inch wide rolls of paper I’ll be able to make some large prints.  I’ve resisted this road for a long time and now that I’m on it I can kick myself for avoiding it for so long.

Blame my fascination for the fumes of a chemical darkroom.

Steve Williams with a Vespa photograph at Saint's Cafe in State College, PennsylvaniaJourneys start with a single step.  So it is with the Epson printer — some online training to avoid bad habits and get my head around a process that will allow me to transition an idea of a photograph onto photographic paper.  I’ve been exploring a workflow process using small prints to confirm the limitations of the digital files and hone the craft of the printer — me.

Making images to post online is seductively easy.  Not so with ink on paper where you lack the dazzling electrons blasting from a screen.  Reflective images on paper are more challenging and require forethought on everything from size to type of illumination.  I’ve stored that expertise in a box somewhere in my head and am still sorting through the mess to find it.  And almost every print until now that I’ve exhibited in public has been black and white.

Color is a different beast.

That’s where my recent journeys have taken me.  I confess to an aching desire to ride along with rejection of single digit temperature rides as my body screams “no way!”.  The days ahead promise some rain and moderating temperatures so perhaps the Vespa will wake to the road.

I can’t go long without a ride.

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Politics and Riding

November 7, 2015 by Scooter in the Sticks 16 Comments

Vespa GTS 250ie scooter on a gravel roadAutumn is my favorite riding season.  It’s quietly exciting visually as the forest changes from green to gold and then bares it’s naked bones.  The falling temperatures push the body just enough to keep you awake and the frequent gray gloom overhead allows the mind to imagine a challenging world.

At least that’s how the road unfolded as I moved along Tussey Ridge.  And for a brief time I thought about politics and the world in which I ride.  They (whoever they are) say all politics are local and after some consideration I think I can agree.  The issue, regardless of what it is, always has a local aspect, even if it’s a world leader considering their personal legacy as they negotiate an international treaty.

lone oak tree in a farm field in autumnWhen I consider politics I find myself always on the outside looking in.  Even when I could be inside.  Years ago I saw a lot of how the sausage was made while working on a congressional campaign as a photographer.  I remember the day I was asked to photograph the opponent looking bored or “stupid”.  At a press conference the assembled photographers would fire their motor-drives at critical moments of gesticulation.

My camera would be silent, at least until a nose was wiped or a head was scratched.  The shutter echoed across the hall and the other photographers would turn my way.  After two or three shots the opponent’s campaign manager was on to me.  The politics were local.  And dishonest.  When the campaign ended I retired from politics and took up what would become a more honest path as an observer.

Looking at the tree in the field standing by itself, quiet, unconcerned, waiting for something to happen I couldn’t help but think of how much of my life unfolds the same way.  Just waiting and watching.

That may explain the lure photography has had for me all these years.

Vespa GTS 250ie scooter on gravel roadI’m not an activist or advocate — even about riding.  The recent Poisonous Tradition post was a natural off shoot of the storytelling I do on Scooter in the Sticks — sharing what I see, feel and experience while riding.

The temperature hovered at 50F while I tracked along a reasonably well mannered gravel road.  The high point of flaming foliage is behind us now but a slash of color still dazzled the otherwise monochromatic landscape.  And my back was pleasantly cooperative as well.

Vespa GTS 250ie scooter along Linden Hall RoadConsidering my aversion to politics it’s surprising I recently joined the American Motorcyclist Association, a group that supports a number of positions that I find perplexing but I was really just interested in the roadside coverage.

While stopped to make a few pictures I met Ace, a fellow who owns a little farm along the creek.

Portrait of Ace, master mechanicAce walked up to the road to see what I was doing and check if I needed help.  We talked awhile about cows and trout and the change in ownership of farms along the Cedar Run branch of Spring Creek.  Ace spotted the Vespa right off but was surprised it actually was a Vespa thinking they quit selling them in the United States decades ago.  After a quick inspection the conversation moved to Fords, and eventually to a shared experience in wrenching on a 1962 Ford Falcon.  He and I both had experience rebuilding the three speed transmission (without synchromesh for first gear) several times. Turns out he’s a master mechanic.

I thought about asking him a few political questions; his thoughts on the health risks associated with woodsmoke, whether loud pipes actually save lives, or whether our freedom was at risk from a growing nanny state.

The observer in me was curious but none of it mattered at the moment.  Ace’s brother came looking for him and I had lunch on my mind.

It doesn’t take much to dissuade me from political discussions.  And even less from religious ones.

Just a little shake of my head and like an Etch-a-Sketch I’m ready for another ride…

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Riding Tribes

October 4, 2015 by Scooter in the Sticks 14 Comments

Vesparados cartoon from the New Yorker magazine

I attended a conference last week that focused on the challenges of science communication at a time when political agendas and propaganda needs drive conversations — GMOs cause AIDS, the moon landing was a hoax, a foot bath will detoxify your body. And while it’s easy to ascribe positions to liberal or conservative, Democratic or Republican, the reality is that many have more to do with the groups we align with than political parties.

Or so the thinking goes.

Humans have always congregated together to achieve common goals since the first meeting in a cave. Today it’s suggested people exhibit the same behavior in creating tribes — now more and more on the internet. And our tribes have beliefs and requirements for membership and reject those who don’t ascribe to them.  People don’t like being rejected by their tribe.

Research indicates how that might work in the real world. Psychologists in Australia and the United States have been looking at the phenomena which demonstrates that the more information and data you provide someone about a suspect belief — let’s say childhood vaccines cause autism — that their belief actually becomes stronger. And it’s not because they’re embarrassed to admit they’re wrong on anything like that, but rather they are loath to be rejected by their tribe — others with whom they share a common belief system.

So how is this all connected to a New Yorker cartoon titled “The Vesparados”?

The world is full of riding tribes — actual groups who gather in person, and virtual groups who share a common set of beliefs . When I saw the cartoon and after a little chuckle I was wondering who the hell made up this group of desperados? Certainly isn’t my tribe.

I know there are scooter clubs and gangs. The same for motorcycles. I read about them on forums and blogs. Fanc Roddam’s film about mods and rockers, Quadrophenia, famously depicts two tribes of riders who each have a serious belief system and any attempt to dissuade those beliefs means trouble.

And then I started thinking about all the little rider beliefs that float around — not wearing a helmet is an expression of individual liberty and freedom by one tribe and by another emblematic of moronic behavior and stupidity.

Stuff like that.

Try to dissuade a rider of their beliefs with data or statistics and see what happens. It’s seldom, “Hey, thanks, I didn’t know that. I really appreciate the information, I’m going out and buy a helmet today!”  The same holds for lots of ideas and beliefs from brands of machine and gear to how and when to ride.

I’m not here to call out any particular tribe or belief — just looking in the mirror wondering about my own moronic beliefs.

I’ve been wondering what tribes I belong to — in the world of flesh and blood, and those virtual communities with which I spend time. I know I’m not part of a badass tribe of scooter riders but maybe I am a part of a winter riding tribe that’s ripe with beliefs and exclusionary thoughts.

This is where my brain goes on a Sunday morning while sitting with the dogs.

I read an article about New Yorker cartoons and the fact that you can apply one of three captions to each cartoon:

1. “Christ, what an asshole!”

2. “What a misunderstanding!”

3. “Hi, I’d like to add you to my professional network on LinkedIn.”

Looking at a couple dozen cartoons I can see that it works pretty well.

As I think about the cartoon, and myself, I keep coming back to caption number one…

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