Saturday finally saw a let up in the storms and rain of the past few days. By afternoon it was nice and I stopped to photograph the clouds across the valley. I left the house prepared for rain but the grey skies heavy with moisture never let loose as they have been. On Thursday night I was out when a storm blew through with hail and lightning. I ducked inside for the worst of it but still had to ride in a drenching rain and watch the lightning in the distance.

I had a little video camera stuffed in my camera bag this morning and thought I would see what it takes to make a little riding video. You can see the results of the video by clicking the youTube link below.

Yesterday I rode to a local eatery to have lunch with my friend Gordon. After a hearty lunch of bacon, eggs and fried potatoes we headed to Starbucks for tea and dessert. Gordon followed in his Ford Explorer and made this picture of me in the rain.

Things have been uneventful—just riding and enjoying the summer.

I added a video clip to this post. The link is at the bottom of the page. First a little background.

A few days ago I posted on loud exhaust systems. The noise I’m referring to here is mental noise. The noise generated by work, responsibility and the business of carrying on a life on a day-to-day basis. People call it different things, my favorite being Gary Charpentier’s term “Existential Gravity” (Forgive me Gary if I am using it incorrectly). Gary’s blog, Rush Hour Rambling, touches on these issues from time to time.

Noise has an effect on everyone, but for some it’s profound. It may be worse for those who have glimpsed life without it and recognize its heavy weight on their spirit and how pervasive it is.

The video “Why I Photograph” explores noise and tedium and how I use photography as a way to manage its effect. The camera is a tool that has forced me to slow down, pay attention and see what’s going on around me. The experience of using a camera is remarkably similar to what I experience riding the Vespa. The tether to the noisy life is cut and for a short time I am tuned to another channel.

“Why I Photograph” is one of many short videos I have made. I have considered producing a video around riding the Vespa. No wheelies or burnouts, but something that explores what I get out of riding.

Anyways, if you want to see the video stream you’ll need Apple QuickTime Player version 6 or higher. It’s a free download from this link:

DOWNLOAD QUICKTIME PLAYER

Link to video “Why I Photograph”

My Vespa is in the shop for a rear tire change. I noticed the past couple days the tire pressure would drop about 12 PSI through the day. On the morning departure the rear tire would show 34 PSI on the gauge. Checking again at the end of the day would show 22 PSI. Could not find any obvious punctures, screws, or nails but the air was going somewhere. The tire was ready for replacement anyways so I’ll feel better about riding on a new one.

But getting to loud pipes…

I didn’t have a way home from the Vespa dealer (Kissell Motorsports) so I asked if they had a loaner scooter. I was joking but Cody Kissell said “Sure.” I left with a 2006 Vespa LX150, same color, 19 miles, AND an aftermarket Scorpian exhaust system. It’s their dealership’s Vespa demo scooter. Kissell’s is a great place and has lots of Vespas in the showroom. I feel fortunate to have them so close.

As soon as the demo scooter kicks over you know something is different. It has a low rumble that seemed to recall the sound of the little Sunbeam Alpine sports car down the street where I grew up. Nice sound. But man, once you give it some gas it is loud.

I rode two blocks and stopped to check my earplugs because it was so loud—almost uncomfortable. I felt embarassed riding through the residential neighborhoods. I came upon one of the municipal work crews standing by their truck and as I approached they all turned and watched. They started laughing as I got nearer, I’m sure a reaction to my macho posturing with this Scorpian exhaust. If you want to be loud and obnoxious just get a big V-Twin.

To be fair I thought I should pay attention to performance. Since the scooter only had 19 miles on it I did not ride it over 40 MPH. I did not notice any difference in acceleration or power, only the incessant roar in my head from the exhaust noise piercing my -32dB foam earplugs. I realized that I really enjoy, no expect, the quiet serene sound while riding. So for a few minutes I had joined the “look at me, look at me, look at me” club.

A quick check of the Scorpian website revealed this:

“All the people involved in the design, development and manufacturer of Scorpion products are passionate racers. Because of this we know what you, The customer, expects.
GREAT QUALITY
GREAT SOUND
GREAT POWER”

Sound is obviously important to lots of people. Some like it loud, some like it quiet. Count me in the quiet column.

I’m waiting for the call that my new tire is on and I’ll ride the Vespa Hog back through town. Children will cry, men and women will shrink away, I shall ride in magnificent glory. I suppose that’s how it should be but I know I’ll just feel embarrassed.

I just returned from a township meeting where the question of connecting a new development to the existing neighborhood streets was discussed. After much legal discussion of what could and could not be done I realized the core issue was the increased number of vehicles on the street. And an increased number of vehicles means more men and women who drive too fast, too distracted, and too dangerously. This is the transportation epidemic in America.

Every ride on the highway places me within the world of the truck and automobile which I identify as potentially dangerous. And I am never sure what is going on in the minds of the drivers and ride accordingly. I should add that motorcyclists are just as able to bring dangerous and irresponsible riding habits to the highway. These habits transcend the vehicle. I read in the paper today that Pittsburgh Steeler quarterback Ben Roethlisberger was in an accident while riding his motorcycle and was taken to the hospital in serious condition. No helmet. He was quoted in one story as saying Pennsylvania recently amended it’s 35 year stand on requiring helmets making them optional. That change was a nod towards political pressure and not safety. Riding without a helmet is dangerous but I recognize it is a permitted choice. I’ll choose to keep putting on the helmet.

Ben Roethlisberger Story

What triggered this entry was my ride to work this morning. I passed the place where Bohdan Kulakowski, 63, of Boalsburg, was struck from behind while he was riding a bicycle near the ramp leading to the Mount Nittany Expressway. There is a bicycle and cross along the road as a memorial to his life and end. It is alleged that the man who hit him was legally blind but still driving. The district attorney seems to be preparing to charge this person with something that could land him in prison for seven years.

Bohdan Kulakowski update

I asked myself why a person who knew they could not see would continue to drive and the answers were troubling and illuminated much of the poor behavior I see on the road.

There is no getting around the fact that driving makes us feel powerful. We are masters of movement and life. It means freedom. I hear that word often used with motorcycles but is it real freedom or merely a hint at its existence. An escape from the grind and wheel of earning a living and carrying on the business of existence. It’s no wonder that anyone who loses the right or ability to drive is devastated. Our power identity is wrapped up in it. It is difficult or impossible to maintain our lifestyle without it. We are reduced to our physical presence without aid of machine. We are no one. Only those sure of themselves can manage the transition to life without mechanized movement.

As life bears down on this hungry consumer culture that is never satisfied, can never go fast enough, that can never get what it needs, is it any wonder that those troubled thoughts and feelings appear on the road in the vehicles that become the mechanized personas of each of us? Obviously there is a great range from gentle souls to maniacal psychopaths. And everything in between. I’m not sure what persona a Vespa is masking.

So each time I venture on to the highway I have to remember that each vehicle is a representation of the lives of the human part of it, and that part might be unaware, disconnected, angry, blind, drunk, depressed, incompetent, or hopefully something far brighter. Riders beware. It is not simply an activity of technique and rules. It is a complex and subtle human experience with all the light and darkness that people possess.

Life is an endless series of choices. From the time we get up to the moment we go to sleep—what do we wear, eat, listen to on the radio, call on the phone, and on and on. I left the house this morning around 8AM with no particular destination in mind. As I rode I could feel the conflict between the part of me that wants a plan and reasoned argument for that plan and the other part of me that just wants to let go and see what is revealed.

When I came upon the fork in the road it became clear what was happening—an internal conflict was underway between a mindset that surrenders to rote routine and another that wants to be wide awake, experiencing each moment, and making conscious decisions as they are required. Riding on two-wheels forces me into the later state of mind. I cannot disconnect while riding the Vespa like I can while driving. My body and mind are actively engaged in the ride. I am consciously deciding what speed to travel at, which line to take in a curve, examining what may be behind a tree or what the driver at the intersection ahead might do. My body works together with the scooter to execute each move and I am completely alive and present. This underlies the “thrill” of riding.

What I find most amazing is that riding opens the door to this kind of awareness in other parts of my life. I find myself more present in all situations. When I drive now (something that is less and less frequent) I see the road differently. My riding awareness transfers to the cage. The conscious decision making stretches into the workplace and home and I find myself more content and less angered when things don’t work out like my automaton mind expects. It is a subtle gift of riding.

The ride today was rich. I left thinking the temperature was in the mid 60’s and would stretch into the 70’s but a half mile from the house I realized it was cold. Returned to get more clothes and had to put my rain jacket on about ten miles from home because I still didn’t have enough. So much for planning.

I rode towards Huntingdon Furnace where I passed this old mill building.

Central Pennsylvania has many such buildings and I am also wishing I could go inside to look at history. This one like most was sealed up tight. I continued towards Sinking Valley and rode over the Kettle and down into Altoona to stop and say hello to my mother and father-in-law. Scooter Bob for those regular readers. When I arrived my nephew James was washing his car and told me that Bob and Patty had gone with some friends for a bicycle ride. He told me the area they were to be riding in so I thought I would ride in that direction.

The ride home was lovely through the winding secondary roads along the Allegheny Plateau. I passed several groups of bicycles but didn’t pass my in-laws—or so I thought. When I got home there was a message from Scooter Bob asking if I had ridden through Riggle’s Gap. I did and of course one of those groups contained Bob and Patty. All those bicycle riders just look alike.

The sun came out though the wind never stopped blowing hard. The Vespa gets buffeted about so you need to hold onto the grips. I stopped to make a photograph of the lush greenery along the roads. It is an amazing time of year.

The odometer showed I rode about 110 miles this morning. My heart and mind are ready for a longer ride. I’ve been turning over in my head a ride to Akron, Ohio to visit my father’s grave. It is about 200 miles away via the Interstate highways; longer taking the roads the Vespa is comfortable with. I have not been there since we buried him over three years ago. He never liked me riding motorcycles. I thought I could show him that they the Vespa, and I, are OK.