Exploring life on a Vespa, Royal Enfield Himalayan, Honda Trail 125, and a Kawasaki W650
I finished my prints this week later than normal — around 10 PM on Saturday evening. The process is more routine and predictable with only about an hour needed to produce 6 to 8 work prints.
The three I chose this week to share are different but similar. My eye seems to be drawn to the same construction over and over again.
Tree along Branch Road
My Domke bag at a coffee shop
Essa McCloud examining snow 
A day off work demanded a ride. Heavy rain from the previous night along with snow melt caused flooding throughout the valley. Had that moisture arrived tonight with sub-freezing temperatures we would be looking at 30 inches of snow.
I chose small mountain roads to explore and celebrate the thaw, the approach of spring, and warmer riding weather. Even with earplugs and helmet I could still hear the water roaring down the mountain.
The roads were wet and covered with gravel in places but it didn’t matter. I was happy to putt along and see the sights. No interest in carving curves and all that stuff.
I’ve convinced myself that winter is finished but in the back of my head I know that there have been winters that dropped three feet of snow in mid-March. Present in the picture above is another sign of spring — as I tromped through the brush to shoot it I was thinking about ticks and Lyme Disease — something that one doesn’t worry about in a real winter. Give me a rattlesnake any day.
Riding across the valley was a challenge because of the strong wind. I thought it would knock the scooter down before I could run out into the field to make the picture. The Vespa stayed upright despite shaking on its center stand.
The wind, cold, and dampness did drive me on — right into the Pump Station Cafe for hot tea and some grub. Any good ride ends this way for me. Sometimes it ends more than once.
Rolling the Vespa out of the garage into bright sun and 30 degree Fahrenheit air was a great way to start my commute to work. I left early to allow more time to negotiate any remaining snow, ice, or gravel, especially on less traveled secondary roads.
After a mile of picking my way between patches of slush and gravel I was ready to say hello to a pair of Belgian draft horses out enjoying the rapidly warming morning. Hello spring.
I made a quick stop at one of the local parks that does winter duty as a sled and toboggan run. School and work has drawn everyone away.
By the time I stopped to photograph this vista the Vespa’s ambient temperature indicator read 46 degrees. Had it not been for a long list of work assignments I would have kept riding all day.
I was headed to a facility that tests mushroom varieties to pick up a small collection for a photograph. The main road was clear but everything else was still a challenge for the sporty Pirelli tires.
Somewhere along the line of scooter ownership I learned that Vespa means wasp in Italian. Wasps are pollinators — like honeybees. So in a real stretch I’m connecting the Vespa with an article I wrote on Colony Collapse Disorder in honeybees. If you’ve are interested in what’s happening with bees you may want to take a look at this freshly published article. You can download a PDF version here —> Article on Colony Collapse Disorder in Honeybees
Another week and two more rolls of Ilford HP5 35mm black and white film shot, processed, contacted, and three more prints. At one point I thought I lost the first roll of film in the trash until I pulled the negatives from the developer and saw what I thought were the lost images. If nothing else I will be more careful where I store my exposed film.
The coming week promises a bit milder weather so I expect to see more time on the Vespa and perhaps some different pictures. Regardless I will continue to expose two rolls of film…
Reflection in window of Glennland Building
View along Brush Valley Road
Eggs in store window display
At the sound of the alarm my body doesn’t rally into the day like it once did. The cold air before the furnace comes to life makes seems unbearable. It’s 57 degrees in the bedroom but 25 outside. If I have trouble facing the house is it any wonder that riding in winter makes no sense?
I do ride through the winter but the transition from sleep to awake, from indoors to outdoors, from not riding to riding is a terribly high hurdle. Homeostasis works overtime on me. It is a reason I don’t ride more in winter.
The Vespa idled in the driveway before work. Clear skies, cold air, and a bit of time before needing to be at work.
Once I get moving I’m fine. Happy. Ecstatic even. But heaven help me through the transition. The roads were clear save for gravel and salt residue. Turning off the road onto a snow covered farm lane for a short detour was short lived. The Pirelli tires are absolutely useless in snow. After riding (pushing) the Vespa a short ways it occurred to me that my energy would be better used elsewhere.
At the end of the day I feel the same transition challenge to get myself out the door. Once on the Vespa things improve and I decide to ride home another direction.
Riding along on more heavily trafficked roads is a mixed blessing. More cars to deal with but I get a sick sense of thrill knowing I am not sitting behind the wheel.
Anyways, there are other more obvious reasons I don’t ride in winter — snow, ice, extreme temperatures. But the real riding killer is homeostasis. I get comfortable and have a hard time transitioning. Riding, diet, exercise, you name it. It’s a constant negotiation to get up and go, to take action. Action isn’t my middle name…