Scooter in the Sticks

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

Moleskine Journals

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Old Moleskine journalsMoleskine Journals Around the House

Anyone investigating our home will find an extensive collection of journals.  Mine are worn and tattered Moleskine Classic Notebooks of various sizes, all crammed with notes and passages written when ever time and fortune permit.  Writing in journals is a habit I began as a teenager and have continued since.  I found Moleskines not long before I started to ride the Vespa.  They’re compact and durable and put up with a lot of abuse.

Moleskine journal and Vespa scooterLittle Black Book

There’s usually a journal in my topcase, under the seat or in my riding jacket pocket.  I carry them in my shoulder bag and have them stashed at home and work to support my need to scrawl thoughts and ideas on paper — a reliable cure for the mind chaotic.

Moleskine Journal opened to reveal textCollect My Thoughts Here

While walking dogs this morning I was perusing an old journal grabbed of a shelf.  It’s unnerving to open them and bear witness to the disjointed ramblings, spelling errors, errors in dates as appears on this spread where I introduce an entry with the wrong year.  I’m also reminded of how I abandoned cursive writing in second grade as a result of the system’s relentless desire to save me from a perpetual graphic and ink smeared left hand.

Had to read this entry since many, even blog posts or work related text can be, well, less than kind.  Reminds me of the supreme rule in our home, “Thou shalt not read someone else’s journal”.

Never.

Ever.

Journals occupy a sacred place which Kim and I both respect.  Meaning we can leave them around the house.

Do you journal?  If not, perhaps you may want to give it a try.  You may be amazed what’s piled up in your head.

One New Adventure: Theoretical Agriculture

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In response to questions about what direction my new adventures have taken I wanted to share a link to one of them – Theoretical Agriculture. It’s similar to Scooter in the Sticks in that I post pictures and text related the things I see and experience. The content grows from the landscape I work in as a photographer. I’m interested in developing my photographic skills and ability to bring a variety of approaches and styles to the assignments I shoot. The ritual of posting on a blog helpful in keeping me engaged in creating new work – a blog is a hungry animal.  I’ve talked with my boss about it and developed some guidelines and I’m ready to roll.

 Just as I did with Scooter in the Sticks and riding I plan to continue to create new content on a regular basis.  It’s pretty simple to do since I am working so much with a camera anyways.  If you would like to follow along you might find some things of interest. And you know I’ll find some way to work the scooter into a picture.

I still have some riding dreams. If they should take shape or I find myself in a unique riding situation I will post it on Scooter in the Sticks. It’s not dead. I prefer to think of it as in hibernation or semi-retirement.

And there is a personal writing project I am finally going to sit down and work on. I have lots of notes and ideas. Now is the time to sit down at the computer and write. The riding experience plays a central role in the story but that’s all I’ll say.

Again, thanks to all of you who have read and posted here. It’s been great and there will still be something new from time to time.

Memorial Day Ride

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Almost a week has passed since I started this post. Sometimes it takes awhile to arrest the thoughts on paper.

The following was written on the morning of May 28, 2007.

Cool Morning. Fog. At Whipple Dam State Park, birdsong and the sound of water pouring over the spillway fills the air. Aside from an old man chasing geese off the beach on the other side of the lake I have the place to myself.

The road to the park winds over Tussey Mountain, through the woods and along Standing Stone Creek. The first hint of sunlight pushes through the fog causing some of the trees to glow.

I’ve been reading “A Sense of the World” by Jason Roberts. It’s the story of James Holman, British Royal Navy officer, Knight of Windsor, and adventurer. What makes his story unique is that he undertook a circumnavigation of the world by land and sea in the early 1800’s after becoming blind and fighting debilitating pain. Whenever I find myself concerned with the minor extremes I face while riding I will recall Holman’s winter trip across Siberia in a horse drawn sledge.

A breakfast of cheese and Melba toast, nuts, raisins, and a fresh orange seems a perfect counter to the familiar hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs I usually eat on a ride. A bullfrog croaks agreement just a few yards away. A family of geese visit hoping for a handout. I politely decline not wanting to reinforce bad behavior — theirs or mine.

The man chasing geese arrives on my side of the lake to continue his geese chasing and other activities to ready the park for the day. We talk for a while and he tells me he has recently retired from park service at age 86. Looking at him I would have guessed 75 tops. His secret is a daily glass of vinegar.

The conversation turns briefly to Memorial Day and he tells me his son was a Marine and died in 1968. We both are quiet for a while.

I feel grateful. Not just to have the opportunity to sit here but for the life and opportunity I have. On Memorial Day I need to remember is comes with a cost.

End of Entry.

A cost. That’s where I stopped writing. I kept thinking about the cost for the rest of the week.

Later that day I walked through the Pennsylvania Military Museum grounds and looked at the monuments signifying places like Antietam, Gettysburg, Meuse-Argonne, Normandy, and Ardennes-Alsace. Names carved in granite, row after row, memories of lives lost far from home, reminders of the solemn cost of my own gratitude.

I’m not sure what I think of the celebrations wrapped around Memorial Day. In town we have carnivals, car shows, craft festivals, music and food. Perhaps a fitting memorial is the existence of celebrations.

Pie contest on Main Street.

Old firetruck at Car Show

Another Memorial Day has passed but the reminders linger.

No Riding, No Writing

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My dog enjoys the snow. She’ll happily lie outside until she’s covered in snow. I’m coming up empty though. Neither motivation nor content for any new posts. Other than this picture I made last Sunday during a snow squall I have not been riding.


My Ford Ranger faithfully transports me to work. The Vespa sits in the garage because snow on the ground, snow in the air, the threat of snow, and temperatures in the teens and single digits conspire in my head. A quick check of the weather report this morning shows 16° F and snow for the next five days doesn’t have me pulling on riding gear. While I might have ridden the old scooter on one of these days I don’t trust myself yet with the GTS. And come to think about it I don’t want to ride in snow or when there is the threat of snow. So where does that leave me?


I’ve never been good or overly interested in scouring the Web for interesting material to post here. If I stumble across something I will share it but I would rather ride and write about riding. My riding. It’s unique to me and to you if you’re interested.

The ride on Sunday followed a short nearly snowless ride on Saturday. Sunday found snow in the air and for a while snow everywhere on the road. It didn’t take long for things to melt leaving just a beautiful landscape to ride through.


I tested the GTS as best I could in the snowy areas and it seemed to perform OK. I am comfortable that if I were caught in the snow I could slowly and carefully negotiate my way to safety. But I would not want to routinely venture out knowing there would be snow.


So that’s where I am, waiting like many of you for the weather to improve. Right now if the roads are dry and the temperature is above 15° F I will ride to work. If the temperature rises above 20° F I will consider a trip. For the past few weeks I’ve been looking for clear pavement. No end in sight for snow free forecasts and even though on many days we don’t get the snow I don’t want to chance it. I’m beginning to think the bigger scooter has robbed me of something…