I made this portrait of my friend and sometimes riding partner during a ride this past Sunday. I had a good time and realized he has to be pretty patient not only to ride along with a scooter, but with a rider that stops all the time to make pictures. Paul Ruby is a photographer in his own rite but doesn’t find his subjects rolling along the roads of Central Pennsylvania the way I do. So here’s a short dispatch from a Fall Ruby ride.

A man casts a sideways glance our way as Paul talks loudly about baking the perfect chocolate cake from scratch. I see the man gesturing to his girlfriend as Paul explains the careful observational skills necessary to accurately use a toothpick to determine when the cake is done.

We’re sitting at the counter of the Family Chill and Grill near Tyrone, Pennsylvania. While we eat a hearty breakfast of bacon, eggs, and home fried potatoes our small audience has a chance to see two serious riders. Me and my good friend Paul Ruby.

A few hours earlier I was waiting for Paul to buy a copy of the Sunday New York Times. It’s a prodigious paper and fills one saddle bag on his Kawasaki Concours.

Papered and ready to go we head south out of town along Whitehall Road. Even though the landscape was plain and made more so by the bright light I just had to stop to pose the Vespa against the dried field of soybeans.

With an equally plain subject presenting itself to Paul he takes out his camera and records me recording the scooter.

Not far down the road is another field of dreg pumpkins. This one didn’t appear to warrant harvesting. The dry weather made these poor prospects for Jack O’Lanterns. Again Paul turns the camera on me but I fight back with a picture of my own.

I think photographers enjoy being in front of the camera. We don’t often get to be the subject.

The road winds south through more farm and forestland. I stop often to look around and make snapshots.

The road runs close to the woods keeping it in shade and making the view of the long run of trees on the opposite side of the valley look even more brilliant.

Paul doesn’t just stand around waiting for me. He’s actively pursuing a flexible back and can be seen here doing one of his exercises. I do the same myself now and again but have not yet worshiped on the road.

The landscape opens and affords some nice views as we near Spruce Creek. Hills and valleys seem to just go on and on.

So do the roads. A bit further south takes us through an area where another group of Amish have settled.

They haven’t been here long enough to develop the kind of agricultural enterprises seen in other areas. Their places are plain and simple, conversions of farmsteads once belonging to the English. I don’t think I could ever been that connected to the land. I just want to keep moving and seeing.

Eventually we get to the Family Chill and Grill Restaurant for breakfast and the man and woman listening to Paul’s story about baking. From there it covers the Italian class he’s taking in preparation for a trip to Italy and then on to a discussion of scooters and motorcycles and how people think about minimum power necessary for riding, riding safely, and riding within their ego limits. But that’s for another post. We left to go home, each having our own chores to do but I suspect Paul had some complicated mechanical or cooking adventure ahead. This picture is just an example taken by his daughter as he wrestles with on of his vehicles.

Some of you might have seen Paul’s Ecletic Scooter Page that appears in my links list. But if you want to see something really eclectic check out his main page.

Another day of riding and a good time all around.

You always think it’s the other guy who’s posing. The one with full racing leathers, wildly colored helmet on a superbike. Or the doo-ragged, gloveless, helmetless, bluejeaned cruiser. It’s easy to judge, dismiss, and point out triumphs of corporate marketing over good sense. Especially when it’s in someone else. Especially from the higher levels of the judgment seat. A glimpse in the mirror though can be troubling. For me at least.

I’ve passed the large granite eagle at a small monument company dozens of times before finally stopping to make a picture – wondering who would actually put this thing over their grave. It’s six feet tall and pretty sinister as it gazes down over the world. While maneuvering around with the camera a Harley rumbles up to the traffic light. He sits stoically looking straight ahead as if nothing in the world concerns him. The rider has on black cowboy boots, jeans, short black leather jacket, no gloves, no helmet, and a pair of cool black sunglasses. Normally I would not have given it a thought but on this morning it was 41 degrees F. Call me a sissy scooter rider but that’s cold when you’re riding.

While I’m thinking about Gerbing electric gloves this gentleman is gloveless. Behind him is a similarly clad female though she does have on a half helmet. She is shivering and struggling to merge her body into his in an attempt to stay warm and out of the wind. Her bare hands clutched around his chest must be cold. She is stylish though. I bet she talks to him later about a windshield. As I climbed up to a higher level of the judgment seat they rumbled off down the road.

The eagle and the gloveless rider started the wheels turning and as so often happens things end up pointing towards me. Looking down at my Vespa I wondered what sort of insensible posing I might be up to. I do try to sit up straight while riding. Wait, that’s posture.

When I first started riding I chose the brightest colored armored jacket in the shop when I bought the Vespa. I didn’t care what it looked like other than bright and armored. Pure function. There are more visible jackets available. HI-Viz with lots of reflective stripes. I still buy yellow and black jackets though. I think I have a style that’s competing with function. I may have assumed another posture.

And then there is riding. Things can get blurry between riding for riding’s sake and riding for blogging’s sake. There’s an audience watching now. Perhaps the best thing for me to do now is climb down from the lofty seat and pay attention to myself. There’s no need to judge other people’s choices. My own backyard might need some weeding.