Three things happens to me when I’m riding a scooter or motorcycle — I pay closer attention to the world, taste a bit of riding freedom, and a get just a little bit smarter. At least that’s what I tell myself.
Riding alone, I almost always end up at a place where I can enjoy a simple pleasure, often something chocolate and a cup of tea, and time alone to watch the world go by, perhaps write a few things in my journal, and let my mind unwind and run free. How often does a person get to feel that way, the kind of freedom you have as a kid where time doesn’t have meaning and your life seems like it’s your own. Riding provides a glimpse of what life could be like and makes it clear how hard it is to come by.
There is a lot to see on the road beyond the obvious hazards and risks from vehicles, animals and pavement challenges. A rider always has to manage those and guard against complacency and a wandering mind lest disaster creep near. That’s one form of paying attention and it is a valuable skill. But there’s another level of attention that I experience as a dim filter being peeled away from my eyes revealing a world previously hidden. Everywhere there’s something to see — every scene and space is mysterious and holds secrets to uncover.
Riding along on the Vespa I find myself exploring spaces and paths because I know I’ll find something — dumped construction waste in which the raw materials for the latest garden installation might spring, or a plant, rock or other treasure is revealed as I step away from the scooter to look in the weeds. My eyes sharpen and intuition whispering “look there, look here…” guide part of the journey.
The number of stops I make to explore or make pictures is excessive and obsessive. It drives my decision to seldom ride with anyone lest they grow annoyed, frustrated and worse. I’ve found other photographers are the best to ride with; they’re generally curious and have something to do when I stop.
The exploring does leave me just a bit smarter. While wandering at one stop along a trout stream I saw this poster warning of the dangers of New Zealand Mudsnails — an invasive aquatic species that is troubling the area. Until I saw this poster I had never heard any of this and I live close to such a stream. Riding away I know the importance of stopping aquatic hitchhikers.
This ride took place on July 5th. Looking at the picture I’m certain each and every one of you sees the obvious lesson derived from a stroll around the area.
You see it, on the left, the corn. Look at the corn and something is revealed. Well, maybe not, maybe I have special insight having spent the last 35 years working for the College of Agricultural Sciences at Penn State. An early indoctrination by someone, probably a farmer I ran into on an assignment, instill some words in my head that are still with me involving how you assess the growth of corn. The rule of thumb was that the corn should be “knee high by the Fourth of July”. Well, unless it grew overnight that corn was near my shoulders. So I learned something. Either that rule of thumb is wrong, or something is going really well with this corn variety.
And so the ride went, eyes wide drinking in the world, free as a bird and tasting freedom, and maybe just a little smarter in a Jeopardy sort of way…
