There it is surfacing right in front of you, the real passion in my life – chocolate. And don’t think I’m writing this now because I’ve been sick all week and the Vespa has stood alone in the garage for the past few days and I don’t have anything better to write about. Or that I am so bored by being sick and not able to ride that I’m just out of my mind. That’s merely coincidence. Hale and hearty and riding hundreds of miles a day I would not let this event pass unnoticed or fail to share with you the arrival of the Harbor Candy Shop holiday catalog. Just looking at it I want chocolate so bad now that I am almost willing to drag my sick and sorry body into the truck and driving to the grocery store to have some woefully inadequate chocolate in hopes of quieting the hunger within. And Harbor Candy bears great responsibility for this desire.

You need a little background to make sense of this story. Add I should preface these comments to let you know this is an unsolicited and unpaid endorsement. Kim and I usually travel to Maine in the late fall and again in early spring to spend a week or so relaxing on the Atlantic coast, walking the beaches, climbing the rocky shoreline, and dissolving away any tether or link to our life in central Pennsylvania. We always stay at the Beachmere Inn (a real gem too) in Ogunquit and visit the Harbor Candy Shop everyday. Did I say everyday? Yes, it’s true. And around the holiday’s I buy candy from their online store or over the phone. A pound for a friend, a pound for me. One year I bought pounds and pounds of candy for gifts. The box was so big that it seemed like 25 pounds though it was probably more like nine. I have sampled chocolate from all over the world and Harbor Candy is as good as any I have tasted. But wait, there’s more.

Their sandwich pralines are simply the best chocolate candy anywhere at any price. I have seen other companies try their hand at these but no one, and I mean no one comes close to the rich, smooth flavor of these cubic delights. I can barely stand it knowing that 600 miles separates me from one of these right now.

If you like chocolate, do yourself a big favor and order a pound of the sandwich pralines. Sure, they have a lot of other candies and they are fantastic too, but the sandwich pralines are in a class by themselves. Just look at that image of the chocolate. Go to their Web site, buy, eat. If that store was closer it would be a riding destination.

Here is the direct link to sandwich pralines.

It doesn’t get any better in the chocolate world than this.
Hell, it doesn’t get any better in life!

I’ve been asked several times what I use to take the pictures you see in Scooter in the Sticks and as I thought about it the subject grew more complicated. I use a variety of cameras for different projects and reasons. I’ve been home sick with a nasty cold, not riding, not sleeping well, so I thought I would attack this topic. If I seem to wander in my thinking just blame the Sudafed Severe Cold. And before I forget, I would be interested to know how and if you work photography into your riding routine.

First off, the majority of the pictures in Scooter in the Sticks are made with a beat up old Canon S50. This excellent little camera has been near the trashcan several times but keeps coming back to life. It has been dropped, rained on, immersed, and generally abused by most standards. And it still works fine.

I keep the camera in the left side pocket of my riding jacket—now the First Gear Kilimanjaro IV. I like to be able to get to it quickly without having to unlock the seat of the scooter. I have had a few concerns about riding with it in my pocket, not so much for the camera but for me should I crash and have that thing poking at my innards.

I have a 512MB memory card in the S50 and keep the image settings at JPEG LARGE FINE. The resulting files are about 2MB in size. I shoot exclusively on the MANUAL setting. Every now and then I will switch to RAW if I think the image is something I may want to print someday but so far that hasn’t happened. The only thing that might even be considered a negative is that if it is cold the battery loses power fast. I’m sure if I kept it under the seat heated nicely by the engine the battery would always have power.

I also keep a very small collapsible tripod under the seat for the occasional self-portrait or long exposure. It’s about ten inches long and flat and takes up almost no room. And you can put a pretty big camera on the thing.

So there is the easy stuff. If I decide I am in serious mode I may pack along the Nikon D200 with an 18-55 and 80-200 zoom lens. This gear is in a soft case bungee corded to the rear rack. And I have thought more than once about what would happen to that stuff should I crash. It is worth as much as the scooter. I have put it under the seat at times but I worry about vibration and heat. The D200 is an excellent camera and the additional range of focal lengths can afford different kinds of images. I usually have a 2GB card in the camera and shoot RAW files. I use RawShooter on a PC or BibblePro on a MAC to do the RAW conversion to TIFF files that I work on in Photoshop.

I have only been shooting digital images in any consistent way since I started the blog. And with the D200 for a few months. Until then all my work was on film and in black & white. I shot Kodak Tri-X in all formats for years and processed and printed in a small darkroom I built in the basement. I am currently in crisis concerning photography and am not sure what my next step is.

For the past ten plus years I have been working on two projects — photographing my wife Kim and photographing the landscape I experience on a regular basis. I still sort of do the later though the damn Vespa keeps wanting in the pictures. I still photograph Kim but not as obsessively as I did. Both projects, Kim series and Landscape series, were a result of questions I had about myself and I have largely answered them. I have new questions that photography does not seem to address for me. And the relative ease of digital photography and printing makes me wonder if I should not shed myself of all my chemical based equipment. Hence, a crisis.

If you want to see some of the results of that work click HERE.

Right now I still have my Leica M6 which I carried everywhere and ran hundreds and hundreds of rolls of film through, and a seldom used Mamiya 7 medium format camera that replaced the 8×10 view camera that I had used for years. I used the view camera primarily for landscape work but since I couldn’t transport it with the Vespa I ditched it.

The 8×10 camera was big and heavy with the camera and tripod with a lens a bit over 40 pounds. Add film holders, film, dark cloth, meter and geez that’s a lot of weight.

Basically my interests shifted, my focus changed, and the tools I need changed. But I am clinging to things that should best be let go.

Bottom line: I am following an interest in writing, riding and photography. I don’t know where it is going and don’t really care right now. What is important is that I step forward and work. From consistent work something always emerges.

We are past the prime colors of autumn in Central Pennsylvania. Most leaves are on the ground but the landscape still radiates a warm glow before surrendering to the monochrome of winter. Saturday morning was clear with temperatures in the forties when I decided to ride through the hills and valleys solely to witness the sun illuminate what was left of this season.

The day was perfect and the roads seemed smoother than normal. Even the gravel mountain roads had been worn almost bare through another season of use making it easy to navigate on the Vespa. I stopped at the Bear Meadows Natural Area to look at the boreal bog. It was quiet and empty.

The location is a 890-acre National Natural Landmark surrounded by the ridges and upper slopes of the Alleghenies. From there I traveled over the gap and down into the Colyer Lake area.

One bright color I noticed that was more pronounced this year was the blaze of yellow-POSTED signs on trees along the road. I remember a time when you seldom saw such loud indications of private property. The world has changed I suppose either because of legal liability, selfishness, or a rise in terrible actions by those who would trespass. Whatever the reason I felt unwelcome riding along that road with the signs screaming at me.

When I got back to US Route 322, a road that traffic normally flies by at 60 MPH, I found bumper-to-bumper traffic traveling at 15 MPH. Car after car heading to the Penn State Football game at Beaver Stadium just 15 miles to the West. After two miles of the traffic I turned off onto a farm lane to cut across the valley towards home.

The corn is ready to be chopped and the agricultural landscape has its own autumn glow.

I arrived home just before a weather front covered the sky with a new grayness that brought with it rain that is forecast to last all week. This ride in the sun will help during the wet commutes to come this week.

And the rare self-portrait to provide evidence that I am actually enjoying myself, have a helmet, and do wear protective gear even though I am “just riding a scooter”.

Adventure riding and Vespa are not words commonly linked together. The image of a BMW R1200 GS fording a rushing stream or crossing a desert in is the stuff of adventuring riding. Not a Vespa. Not a scooter. My own definition is broader and finds the possibility of adventure everywhere. I consider it a state of mind rather than a location or route.

Yesterday morning on the way to work I made a detour that took me through a fallow field that I suspect will soon yield to a developers bulldozer. I followed the matted tracks in the weeds across uneven ground. As a kid I would explore these places looking for real estate suitable for a fort or raw material for the next tree house. These places were unknown and uncharted and I was the explorer.

My landscape photography reflects my interest in exploring what is outside my door and while I enjoy trips to far away places I can find the same wonder in my backyard or neighborhood if I am open to it. I saw this tree on one of my adventures just two miles from my front door, a small oasis almost in town that most people never see in their rush to get from place to place.

At 52, I am still an explorer and still excited at the prospect of treasure. The Vespa is a suitable companion. Longer and more challenging trips are still on my list; a ride to Akron to visit the cemetery where my father was buried, a ride through the Adirondacks, and the king of trips that has haunted me since high school the trip out West. And the Vespa can easily undertake any of them from a mechanical perspective. The question will be “Am I up to it?”.

Consider the trip taken by Walter Muma on his 50cc moped in 1978 from Toronto to Alaska and then into the Northwest Territories past the Arctic Circle to Inuvik. Over 11,000 miles much of it on unpaved road. And on a moped. You can read and see the tale written by Walter here:

1978 Moped Trip

It is worth reading. The only greater adventure would to do it on a bicycle or walk. The Vespa would be unnecessarily luxurious and overpowered. A sign of an overly consumptive society. Fat Vespa riders.

It’s 5:54AM and a balmy 54° F, fine weather for the ride to work. Another day, another adventure.

On the way home yesterday I stopped at the military park near my home. It seemed a fitting time to pause and think about the election underway. At this place I am reminded of one of the paths that those we elect can take us. It’s easy to feel the process and decisions are beyond my influence being in this place helps me glimpse, if only for a moment, that I am part of the whole. Every decision I make has a subtle effect on the outcome of the decision making process of those men and women elected and in the fate of those people affected by those decisions. Like the flap of the butterfly wings that give birth to a hurricane.

It’s dark, raining and 46° F this morning. The Vespa is waiting patiently for me to gather myself together for the ride into work.