Scooter in the Sticks

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

Postcard: Under the Stars

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Desire and opportunity came together this evening for my first attempt at a starry, starry night photograph of my Vespa GTS 250ie. You need to click on the image for the larger version to really appreciate the stars.

It was sort of cozy sitting on the road in the dark balancing the camera on my wallet and a Gerbing glove to make this picture. It was almost pitch black when I made the picture, could barely see a thing. The Nikon D700 is pretty amazing at ISO 3200 making this kind of thing possible.

I’m looking forward to more serious nighttime explorations.

The Walk – Ride Ritual

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Have you ever tried to convince yourself that riding is a physical activity akin to exercise? That the calories and fat from a big breakfast would be burned away by a few hours of serious riding? Maybe you believe in flying saucers too.

Age, reason and the medical community sometimes intervenes suggestions to “engage in a little more exercise”. For me it’s taken the form of an early morning walk right out of bed. I picture myself just like Rocky running on the streets of South Philadelphia. I don’t drink raw eggs though.

A scooter or motorcycle exists outside the realm of normal. So do many of the riders. Those of us who choose to ride for pleasure, transportation, economy or other reasons are decidedly not among the mainstream that believe four-wheeled vehicles the safe and prudent choice. But being an outsider might make it easier to change. Maybe. Such are the thoughts drifting through my helmetless head as I pass by the Zion Lutheran Church.

Exercise isn’t as much fun as riding a Vespa. Or so I thought. With camera in tow as I move through town it is not unlike my riding. I see things, stop, look around and take pictures. Other than a lack of a convenient scooter to serve as model I’ve found the walks to be rewarding. I had to stop for a moment and ponder a store window display and ask why anyone would want a plaster dog when there are so many perfectly good real dogs around.

I passed through the stand of pines again this morning at the Military Museum and tried a picture at another angle. I’ll be back.

By the time I turned towards home it was beginning to get light. Still no rain but that could change suddenly.

The ride to work was dry under gray skies. I stopped a few times to make pictures much in the same manner as I did on my walk. It is a satisfying ritual that takes almost no time and just a little additional effort. I just wish they both counted as exercise.

Postcard: Simple Observations on the Ride to Work

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Stopping to look at a favorite place on a regular basis is one small pleasure of a routine ride to work. Observing the trees as the morning sun seeps over the horizon, or as a scene emerges from fog or mist, each unique reminders of being alive and awake in the world. It’s easy to rush by though and become absorbed by commuting and evaporating into music, talk, or simmering frustration. The price of stopping on the Vespa is small. A few minutes and the willingness to interrupt my forward motion. Sounds simple but it has taken me considerable practice to achieve.

I stopped on Thursday morning to watch the sunlight illuminate the pine plantation section of the Pennsylvania Military Museum. I’m still looking for the definitive picture of that stand of trees. I’ll keep stopping, probably even after I make that picture.

Postcard: A Little Night Ride

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A return to town this evening found me on the Vespa after dark. I realized that there is another world to explore with the camera at night. As the weather warms I’ll be heading out in the evenings for some night rides and night photography. It means dragging the tripod along and perhaps a bigger camera but I think it will be worth it.

And I love riding at night through open fields and valleys, especially now when the moon is near full.

First Ride of a Warming Season

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Standing in front of the brightly colored window I felt some elation that the temperature had soared to 60F when my friend Paul Ruby and I had stopped for breakfast at the Bird House Restaurant in Montoursville, Pennsylvania. I needed to believe that winter was falling quickly behind and spring was just around the next bend.

I underdressed for the ride thinking it would be warmer sooner. And I didn’t take into account the sudden changes in temperature that can occur in the mountains. When I stopped about 30 miles from home to send a Twitter in the Sticks update my fingers were beginning to get stiff at 50F in non-electric gloves. Riding over the first ridge the temperature indicator on the Vespa hit 62F only to drop to 42F a mile later as the road descended through a narrow valley. Luckily I had the Gerbing Electric gloves under the seat.
There are lots of curves and tight turns as the road moves north through the Tiadaghton State Forest. Moisture and sporadic remnants of gravel, salt, and sand made traction dicey in places. Paul and I stopped to make a few pictures and stretch our legs (and backs). It’s hell to get old.
I went through the curve another time so Paul could make a picture of me. I’ll never have to worry about dragging anything on the ground unless it’s hanging off the scooter because I didn’t pack something correctly.
Breakfast was simple and delicious. I think I enjoy it as much as I do the riding. This time I remembered to take a picture after only one bite of toast rather than the usual empty plate picture.
Paul waxes poetically about life, art, and poetry. And eBay. He makes his living on eBay and is not pleased with some of the changes made to that system.
Every poet-adventurer needs a brass compass. Across the street from the restaurant was an Army-Navy Store with a selection of them. This was a nice one as compasses go. But who uses them anymore?
A stop along the Wyalusing Path (US 220) on our way north to Eagles Mere. Scooters and motorcycles fascinate me as sculptural objects. I suppose it’s why I can continue to photograph the Vespa. One of these days I’ll exhaust that fascination but for now I’m content doing what I’m doing.
Paul made another picture of me – the well-prepared photographer – a Canon G9 around my neck and a Leica M6 in my right hand. Those electric gloves remind me of what the kids wear in the Family Circus comics.
Eagles Mere is an old Victorian resort community dating back to the late 1800s. We stopped to look at the toboggan run that is now closed for the season. The town closes off a long street that slopes down to the lake.
When we walked down and took a look at the run I could hardly believe the scale. The track ran far out onto the lake and I couldn’t imagine how fast it would be. I would have loved this as a kid. I might even like it now.
The ride home took us through a lot of still melting mountainsides, reminders of how much more severe the weather would be here. Once we emerged into the Susquehanna River Valley the thermometer was pushing 70F as we ran towards home. The Vespa GTS 250ie purred along the 43-mile freeway segment of US 220 at 70mph. Not the most relaxing way to ride but nice to know the scooter is capable of high speed travel for sustained periods of time.  It was nice to get out and put 205 miles of road underneath me.

It’s gotten cold and wet again but I’ve had a taste of warm weather and longer rides. Anything less will be frustrating.

Scooter in the Sticks

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

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