I knew nothing of passion growing up. It was a word, and if I thought about it at all, that was associated with romance and sex. In my working-class upbringing I didn’t meet people who passionately pursued dreams or vocations. Just men and women who woke up, went to work, came home and then did the same thing the next day. At least that was the limit of my thinking about passion.

A recent interview by the guys who produce the Chasing Ghosts. On Scooters. In Bars. got me thinking about passion. First as I asked myself why these guys dedicate so much time and energy to producing a podcast. But then asking myself the same questions as I thought about how much life I’ve been pouring into Scooter in the Sticks.

If you’ve never listened to podcasts, I can’t describe how lovely a gift they can be to anyone who’s curious about ideas, people, places or information on just about any topic you might imagine. Like Chasing Ghosts. On Scooters. In Bars.

I got a message a few weeks ago from podcast host, Mark Helgen, asking if I would be willing to do an interview to talk about my blog, winter riding and any sort of experiences I might have had with spirits and the paranormal. Always excited to talk about riding, and curious about the rest, I agreed. You can listen to my ramblings along with other scooter stories and experiences in Episode 32 “Spring Scoot (er) in the Sticks”. My bit comes up during the last 15 minutes of the program. You can subscribe to the podcast on Apple as well as other platforms.

Back to passion. My understanding of passion grew slowly. For a great part of my life it focused on the committment people made to their jobs, to that immense investment of time made to earn money to pay bills. No other understanding of passion existed. The absurdist philosopher Albert Camus once said, “The real passion of the twentieth century is servitude.” That’s it. It’s what I understood.

So here are these guys investing time and energy in a podcast which, as far as I know, doesn’t earn them any money. I have a good idea of how much planning, coordination, production and post-production is involved in making a podcast of the quality of Chasing Ghosts. On Scooters. In Bars. I have a brand new microphone on my desk that I purchased expressly with the idea of producing a podcast. Or narrating videos. And it took only a little research to realize there was no way I was willing to dedicate myself to such a daunting task.

Passion. It can be the only explanation for the existence of the Chasing Ghosts podcast. I wish I would have asked them a few questions. The interview not only gave me a chance to talk about riding and some of my ghostly experiences, but afterwards, it had me thinking about my own passionate embrace of blogging about my own scooter experiences. For after over 1200 posts, a half-million words, and thousands and thousands of original photographs, how else can I explain such an investment in time and energy that doesn’t yield a cent other than passion, that strong emotional state that sustains an almost boundless enthusiasm for work after 15 years.

Yeah. Passion.

Anyways, check out the podcast. Cool to listen to other riders who have their own, unique passion for life on two wheels, ghosts, bars and a fellowship that’s crystal clear in their broadcasts. They do a great job giving voice to their experiences. I really appreciate the opportunity they afforded me to share a little of my passion.

Can’t say more. The temperature is rising toward 34F and the BMW K75 needs to go for a ride. I hear it calling and complaining all I ever ride in the winter is the Vespa…

Embracing the Last Warm Days of Autumn.

A scene from three weeks ago as my friend Paul and I made the most of one of the last warm days of autumn. Riding a Vespa scooter on a sunny day remains one of the fine, simple pleasures of my life. Looking at the picture I’m reminded of how grateful I am to have a fast friend who pushed me into riding. Life would be dimmer had I never climbed aboard a Vespa.

Continue Reading

Keep Moving

The scooter and motorcycle stand in the garage. Quiet. Unused. The battery may be dead in my camera and I’m hoping the chipmunks haven’t gnawed on my helmet lining. I feel a long way from riding right now. I’m frozen in place, lost in thought, disconnected from the things I love. It’s often this way as autumn approaches. Perhaps the sun’s energy patterns change and affect the ways neurons fire in my brain. Or sensing the approach of cold weather I just begin to shut down.

Or so it seems. Doing nothing, accomplishing nothing, frozen in place.

The truth is somewhat different. I’ve been riding the Vespa and the K75. A lot. And I’ve made many photographs. Have my darkroom running as well in support of another project. Five rolls of film are hanging downstairs awaiting contact proofing.

And I’ve been reading. And watching Netflix. Watched Inside Bill’s Brain, the documentary series on Bill Gates. Thinking about global warming and the role of nuclear power. Specifically the Traveling Wave Reactor. And each morning the dogs drag me into the world.

But I feel frozen in place despite evidence to the contrary. A storm front is moving in. I hear thunder. Otherwise I would tell myself, “You need to go for a ride.”

Sometimes things are just strange.

Full flounder ahead.