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
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
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.
The Evening Meal
A slow, relaxed evening at home. A big, heavy box on the front porch containing a hammock stand for a Hatteras Hammock went together quickly and I was finally able to test the hammock Hannah got us for Christmas. Last year. Maybe the year before. I’m not one to rush things. After sufficient testing Kim and I decided to get dinner from Duffy’s Tavern in Boalsburg. Nothing fancy — a couple take out cheeseburgers and fries.
A short ride to the tavern and I see these three Ducati’s parked out front in the motorcycle only parking area. With the Vespa watching over the motorcycles I talked briefly with three young riders waiting for a table at Duffy’s. Seems they will soon be trailering their bikes to the Jersey shore to ride along the ocean at sunrise. Sounds like a fine way to spend time with friends. A fine way to spend time on two wheels.
One more thing to add to my riding list…
I’m working on the next installment about my time on the road with the Triumph Bonneville. Look for it sometime on Thursday.
New Wheels in the Sticks: 2009 Triumph Bonneville
On Friday afternoon I rode out of the parking lot at Kissell Motorsports with the first motorcycle in the New Wheels in the Sticks project — a black 2009 Triumph Bonneville. This is a classic motorcycle, the one I picture in my head when I hear the word motorcycle. It’s what kids draw when they’re drawing a motorcycle. It’s connected to memories of movies and Steve McQueen. Triumph has long occupied a special place in my imagination. The motorcycle is solid with a strong, deep exhaust sound without being obnoxious. Mentally I knew I wasn’t on my Vespa but it took a few miles for my body to realize this new machine did not respond in the same fashion as the scooter.
The pavement was wet from a passing shower and the road surface was slick under my boots. I traveled a quiet route home to experiment with the brakes, weight and handling. Back and forth on an empty stretch of road to check the braking response on the wet road. Another few stops to fully reset my brain to use my right foot for the rear brake instead of my left hand which was now on clutch duty. I spent about 20 minutes evaluating my skills and comfort on the Triumph before heading towards home. It is important for me to take the time to embrace a new machine before any serious or extended riding. I’ve met riders who have chosen huge motorcycles as their first ride. Or have gone through the Motorcycle Safety Foundation Beginner Riding Course on a 250cc motorcycle and turn around after the course and buy a Goldwing. I like to build up to things. Maybe I’m just nervous about the leap in size and weight from the Vespa. So I was careful and deliberate with the Triumph. Even though Craig Kissell said not to worry about the bike and that he would assume any liability for damage I didn’t want to see him cry.
As I write this piece I keep thinking I should remain cool, aloof, objective in my reactions to the Bonneville on that first evening. I tell myself not to gush or say anything stupid. Nothing poetic. Just the facts. One of the first things I noticed was the spartan simplicity of the Triumph. I found myself looking for the clock, ambient temperature and fuel gauges present on my Vespa. I didn’t realize how often I my eyes go to them until they weren’t there. The Triumph has a speedometer, a blue light for high beams, a small amber light when the fuel is low, and maybe a red light for low oil. That’s it. With fuel injection there is no choke or fuel valve. Press the starter button and it starts. Right now. Simple. And without saddle bags you don’t have to worry about carrying anything that won’t fit in your pockets. At first I was a little bothered by that but by the end of the weekend I really enjoyed not having to think about what I need to take along. My luggage consisted of wallet in my pants pocket, some change in another, a point and shoot camera in my riding jacket pocket and some index cards and a pen in the other. That’s it. For recreational day rides where weather will not be an issue it was fine. If this bike were mine I would add saddle bags at least and perhaps a rear topcase. Otherwise how would I haul all the groceries around that I do with the Vespa? Groceries don’t really fit though with my image of the Triumph. Yet.
I only rode about 15 miles that first evening but enough to know that I really liked this motorcycle and was looking forward to an early departure the next day. I liked the upright riding position. I like the smooth even power that the fuel injected engined delivered. And I liked the way it handled on the road. And as if the universe was testing the Triumph and my riding skills I had to make a sudden evasive maneuver to avoid plowing into four chickens crossing Main Street in Boalsburg. Anyone can dodge deer and elk. But chickens, that’s real adventure.
I’ll be posting more pictures and reflections of a longer ride on the Triumph in a few days. Stay tuned.