Scooter in the Sticks

Exploring life on a Vespa, Royal Enfield Himalayan, Honda Trail 125, and a Kawasaki W650

2009 Kawasaki KLR 650: First Evening Ride

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A gray, wet day seems an appropriate backdrop for a ride on a Kawasaki KLR 650, the next bike in the New Wheels in the Sticks project. The KLR has been on my mental radar for a long time as a sort of utilitarian do anything motorcycle. The Jeep of the two wheeled world. There is something satisfying in thinking there is nothing I could not do or place I could not go. Thanks to Kissell Motorsports I’ll have the opportunity over the next few days to take the Kawasaki out on the road and see how it feels.

There wasn’t much time to ride today, just a long loop around the valley to get a feel for how the big machine handles. I say big because the first thing I noticed was how tall the KLR is. I mean really tall. At just under 6’3″ tall I felt like I was barely able to touch the ground. In reality I had no problem flat-footing the bike but it felt pretty high for the first 20 minutes until I became accustomed to it.
The past two bikes I’ve ridden had fuel injected engines and I have gotten used to just pressing the starter button and go. The KLR wanted me to give it a little fuel before it would start. And it wants me to open the fuel valve and even give it a choke when cold. The perplexed look on my face passed quickly as memories flooded back.
Like each new machine I ride I find a lonesome road to test out the brakes and stopping characteristics. In addition to clean, positive braking it was nice to know the aggressive tread on the tires worked well on the damp and wet pavement. The 650cc single cylinder thumper engine was a new experience. I intentionally didn’t use my normal foam earplugs so I could get used to the sounds the KLR makes. I like to have some idea of what sounds right and what doesn’t.
Didn’t really have time for much riding this evening but I’m planning to leave early tomorrow to see how I like this big, tall motorcycle out in the sticks.

2009 Triumph Bonneville: Image, Myth and Ride

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Steve Williams with Triumph Bonneville motorcycle
Me being cool with a Triumph Bonneville.
Triumph Bonneville in a cornfield
A go almost anywhere motorcycle.

Why do I like this motorcycle so much?

 
I had to make a picture of the two of us to figure it out. Image. Part of the fascination with the Triumph Bonneville is the way it looks and the way I think I look with it. Let’s say it allows me to pretend a part of me is like some of my boyhood heros on motorcycles. In an alley in downtown State College, Pennsylvania I found a location that reminded me of the urban landscapes that I pictured the Triumph. That’s about as rough as it gets here. The back door of the Eddie Bauer store. But that is only part of the fascination with the motorcycle. There is a lot more to it than image and myth.
 
An early morning ride through familiar terrain gave me a chance to compare solitary riding on the Triumph Bonneville to the experience on my Vespa. My intent on the scooter is an unfolding of tension and disposal of noise gathered in my head through the week, an ongoing meditation on two wheels and I was anxious to determine whether I could achieve the same thing on the Triumph. Despite it’s ability to charge down the road it was perfectly able to deliver a relaxed journey, a simple flight along these rural roads. Turning off the road onto a farm lane just to admire the morning light may not be typical Triumph riding fare but in a hectic world it is nothing short of magical. For me. Thundering down the road can wait until another day.
 
Final thoughts on the Triumph Bonneville. I want one. It’s simple, elegant construction embraces my desire for a simpler life. The classic lines and design trigger the same motorcycle wanderlust now that I felt as a teenager wishing I owned something like this. On the road it handled flawlessly and never left me feeling unsure or unsafe. While it’s power is seductive and speed deceptive a bit of mental adjustment on my part as a rider made this motorcycle mine to command.

Did I say I want one?

I returned the bike to Kissell Motorsports and I have to admit the childish part of my brain kept imagining Craig Kissell saying, “Aww heck, just keep it a while longer…” But there are more motorcycles to experiment with and so little time…

Triumph Bonneville motorcycle on rural road.
A fine motorcycle for almost anything.

A Vicarious Ride on a Classic Triumph

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Riding in Alabama – 74 Triumph Bonneville..still running strong from Casey Lee on Vimeo.

Stumbled on this video completely by accident. Took me back to the sounds and sights of my youth. Thought it was worth sharing…

Prisoner of Light

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I remain photographically constricted because of my belief that dramatic light is an essential ingredient for a good photograph. In practice I photograph in all kinds of light and in the rainbow picture I made last week on a ride into town I see evidence that dramatic light does not make a dramatic picture. My brain tells me that good pictures are everywhere and do not require any formula of essential elements. But whispering deeper is some stilted, stunted core level belief in dramatic light. Perhaps it is a result of early exposure to Ansel Adams and Edward Weston. Wherever it came from it has an effect on my decision making. I am a prisoner of my own beliefs.

On clear days I often leave early to catch the low light which can render objects and landscapes in more dramatic fashion than the middle part of the day. I’m certain this plays a partial role in my habit of riding at dawn. Even if I am not making pictures I want to see the world change. Color and texture change rapidly in the morning. Spaces are more clearly defined. Last Saturday morning I put my Mamiya 7 camera in the Vespa and headed towards the mountains to make photographs. Not far from home I stopped to look at the road and the brightness beginning to consume it. The little point and shoot Canon camera makes recording these moments simply as my own visual sketching.

The transition from motorcycle back to scooter was invisible. The ride of the Vespa is plush; even on gravel. I’ve become more accustomed to riding on these forest roads and always find a sense of quiet satisfaction being able to move beneath the trees. And it didn’t matter if I was not inclined to bring out the film camera.

Those of you familiar with Rothrock State Forest may recognize the switchbacks on the road to Little Flat. It’s narrow and can be unnerving when the inattentive driver comes barreling down the hill in a truck or SUV. I would not want to attempt any off-road riding here.

Several stops to search for non-scooter pictures didn’t reveal anything I cared to spend film on. The process was underway and by the next day had finished a new roll of Ilford black and white film. After digging through my desk I now have a total of four rolls awaiting the darkroom treatment. On this day though my thoughts turned (as always) to food. The Pump Station Cafe was only a few miles away.

Riding a scooter tends to offer some parking alternatives that a motorcycle does not. My Vespa is small enough to park right in front of the cafe on a little sidewalk. It looks like it belongs there. At least that’s what I tell myself. While eating I jot notes on an index card about my troubles getting my head back into shooting pictures. I don’t count the things I do for Scooter in the Sticks or at work. I judge myself, perhaps wrongly, by the photographs I make solely for myself. I hit these dry spells now and again and I just need to wade through them. Get past my thinking and get closer to doing.

And quit being a prisoner of light.

2009 Triumph Bonneville: Heading West Just After Sunrise

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My friend Paul Ruby and I were on the road early with plans to ride west towards Clearfield to find a new place to for breakfast. I have begun to wonder how many riders make a ritual of riding to breakfast. Something like private pilots and the 200 dollar cheeseburger. A short stop at the Sunoco station on North Atherton Street where Paul could get gas for his motorcycle gave me a chance to admire the Triumph Bonneville. Again. In the light from the rising sun it just seemed to glimmer. Really. Well, I did do some interpretation in Photoshop but the bike does look good. I’ve dreamt about motorcycles that look like this. And so far it has lived up to my expectations.

The Bonneville is at home on the highway. Every bike or scooter I’ve ever ridden seems to have a riding sweet spot. A speed where the bike is completely relaxed, a mid-ground where you don’t notice you’re going slow and you don’t notice you’re going fast. For the Triumph it’s between 50 and 60mph. (In my decidedly non-scientific estimation). Riding my Vespa GTS250ie I find it right around 45mph. Your results may vary.
I pulled over just as we approached the top of Bald Eagle Ridge on Interstate 99. I made Paul back his motorcycle up so I could admire the unobstructed view of the road and sky. This motorcycle loves this kind of road.

Another stop for a picture along US322 as it begins to rise into the Allegheny Plateau. With the clouds passing over the hills and valleys this area looks as much like parts of Virginia and North Carolina as it does Pennsylvania. My thoughts travel momentarily to imagined rides on the Blue Ridge Parkway.

The weather has been unusually cool this summer and the feeling of fall hits me even though it’s July. When I left the house it was 59 degrees Fahrenheit and I was wearing my winter riding jacket with a liner. I love this kind of weather but it isn’t fondly embraced by riders who like to travel unencumbered by too much clothing.

My riding style generally consists of slow, slower and stop. Stop for pictures. Stop to look around and just breathe in the world. It took me awhile to tame the Triumph’s desire to go fast. While it does not have a huge engine it is entirely within it’s power to go fast. It’s deceptive and I had to keep a close eye on the speedometer to make sure the State Police would not want to take a closer look at the bike too.

If you want to see pictures on a ride you just have to go slow otherwise you will rush by all but the biggest landscape views. And by slow I mean 35mph. It’s easier at 25mph and easier yet at 15mph. With a little practice and experimentation with the gearbox I was able to find a photo speed sweet spot. I don’t ride that way all the time but some places call out for attention. So it’s nice to know how to make myself and the bike comfortable.

Paul pulled into a gas station in Coalport for fuel and a chance to show off his back stretching regimen. No matter how many times I witness the ritual something just seems wrong. If you ever run into Mr. Ruby as him to tell you about the time he was stretching his back in McDonalds with a pack of Boy Scouts present. Then you’ll understand.

Adding fuel to the Triumph is easy except for the trepidation of splashing gas on the mirror finish paint job. I was extremely careful but without knowing how much gas was in the tank or how much it would hold I went slow. At two gallons I stopped and replaced the shiny chrome gas cap without so much as a drop of gas to mar the finish. Have I said how pretty this black motorcycle is?
The search for food was not going well. Phillipsburg was a bust as was Oseeola Mills, Houtzdale, Madera and Irvona. By the time we stopped in Coalport my stomach was done riding. I was on autopilot to a known breakfast way station near Prince Gallitzin State Park in Flinton, Pennsylvania. Sir Barney’s.

Sir Barney’s has standard, reliable breakfast fare which is exactly what I needed. Eggs, bacon, potatoes, juice and toast. It’s like my riding security blanket. The only meal of the day I can count on to make me whole and not put me to sleep. Maybe that’s why I tend to ride in the morning.

Riding with a trusted riding partner like Paul has it’s advantages over riding alone. You get to experience things twice. Once through your eyes and once through someone else’s. While I was happy as a clam to have food he was concerned with the lack of interest the wait staff seemed to pay us. We got everything we needed but we didn’t get characters. There was nothing memorable about the people working there, no fodder for stories or humorous anecdotes. As Paul commented, “They’re 9 to 5ers.”.

Ours were the only motorcycles in the parking lot. The Triumph and Harley looked good out there. And I was glad to be able to keep my eye on things. I’m still a bit apprehensive with Craig Kissell’s generosity in loaning me motorcycles. I imagine a phone call…”I parked it right outside the diner. I was only there for 20 minutes. It’s a family place. I can’t imagine who took it….”

So I keep my eye on things. While I’m riding and when it’s parked. Maybe that’s why Kissell Motorsports trusts me with their motorcyle.

By the time I arrived at the home of my inlaws we had ridden 100 miles. The Triumph looked as good in their driveway as it did in mine. I think it would look good in anyone’s driveway. It’s just a cool, classic machine if your interests lean in that direction. As much as I would have liked to ride all day adult responsibilities beckon me home. Besides, there still was another 70 miles of riding ahead to help ease the pain…

I am completely comfortable with the Triumph Bonneville. The transition from scooter to motorcycle was effortless for me. Muscle memories of shifting motorcycles in the 1970s returned and I was at home astride this machine. I can’t say enough good things about the Triumph so I’ll just stop for now.
I have one more post on the Triumph reflecting on a short ride alone through the countryside. Look for that soon.

Scooter in the Sticks

Exploring life on a Vespa, Royal Enfield Himalayan, Honda Trail 125, and a Kawasaki W650

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