The holiday found me out on the road early exercising a bit of personal freedom on the scooter. Riding alone allows me space to think about things like independence and freedom. Without going into a long reflection I’ll just say I’m grateful for the freedom afforded to me through the diligence, work and blood of the past 231 years.

Flags lined the main road near my home. The red, white and blue leaped from the grey morning. For the rest of the day I saw flags draped from houses, painted on barns, stuck to bumpers of trucks and generally bursting forth across the landscape.

I had no destination in mind and struggled a bit to find the path the scooter (me) wanted to travel. Eventually I headed south towards Spruce Creek stopping several times to consider if it was time to put on my raingear. Each time the expected downpour did not come and I continued on. The road ran along the creek and old Pennsylvania Railroad tracks (now Norfolk Southern I think) and I was delighted to see a freight train move through the woods in a gathering mist that had me thinking “Brigadoon”. Eventually I came upon the limestone quarry owned by New Enterprise Lime. I’ve always been fascinated by a good ravage of landscape and this was no different. I could spend a lot of time wandering around a mine…

Riding over the hill and away from the quarry into the open farmlands the rain finally came. I stopped to put on my raingear and make a picture. Five miles later I realized I must have dropped my lens cap. Back I ride and there it is laying in the middle of the road. Making photographs with gloves on has thrown off my ritual of lens cap care. The entire feel of the process is off and I guess I will have to develop a new mode of working.

I rode across the valley and began up the next mountain until the paved road ran out and became a little track with the fabled “No Winter Maintenance” sign. To the experienced traveler that sign means “You’re on your own, we don’t do nothing with this road”. As the road became muddier and I realized where it was headed I decided to turn back and go another way. The rain stopped allowing me to make another photograph without dousing the camera and also ditch the raingear.

Probably the most magical part of the ride was along a road I had never been on through the considerable forestland holdings of the American Eagle Paper Mill. I assume they will eventually chop everything down for pulpwood but this day the light, the mist, and the forest were just amazing. I must have stopped a dozen times just to marvel and the atmosphere.

Something weird must have happened in that forest because I got absolutely lost. I usually always have a good sense of direction but this time I had no idea where I was and was heading the opposite direction I thought I was when I finally saw a sign with something vaguely familiar.

I was about 45 miles from home when the rain started to come down hard.

I stopped one last time to photograph a group of cows who gathered to watch me cloak myself in bright yellow. From there the run home was wet but comfortable. I stayed dry and had a leisurely ride to complete my personal celebration of Independence Day.

After days of rain the clear dawn promised a quiet ride. I left early to give myself time to wander through the countryside before the ride transformed into the commute to work. Air cool with remnants of fog burning away in the morning sun. My Vespa moves smoothly over the empty roads that move along the floor of Brush Valley. I find these rides quiet my thoughts and help me engage the day. I feel the changing flows of air, some warm, some cool as I ride. The fragrance of wet plants and moist soil fills my head. These moments are distilled to the graceful movement of the scooter and I as we move over the road.

I stopped to make this photograph when I saw the sunlight in my rear view mirror. I’m grateful to recognize these moments and I doubt I would see them in a car. I am exposed to the world on the Vespa.

Riding has a utilitarian function in my life. On mornings like this it reaches far beyond transportation or recreation to something sublime.

It seems like most of my daily commutes to and from work for the past week have been done in the rain. I find a quiet calm riding in the rain. It requires me to be prepared physically and mentally and the normal focus that occurs during riding is turned up a notch. Riding home today I could not help think of the times I have been sailing in bad weather. The feeling is the world has been reduced to basic elements—weather, the boat (or scooter), the water (road), and me. Everything else falls away. It is a good place to be.

My Vespa LX150 shows no ill effects from the consistent wetness either mechanically or cosmetically. It starts as normal and performs well even in torrential downpours. It also takes in stride the day long sits in the rain parked outside my office waiting for the ride home. I have a new Pirelli rear tire and it performs well even in water covered roads without any sign of instability or hydroplaning.

I have seen few motorcycles or scooters during this wet weather. The hassle of preparing drives many riders to other means of transportation. A few have expressed concerns with the dangers of wet roads and reduced visibility. As a photographer I am used to looking at objects and I have to say that I think the scooter is actually more visible in the low contrast grayness of this sort of weather. The headlight and taillights really stand out in this palette. I seen no evidence of drivers not seeing me. I am much more worried when the weather is clear, especially in the morning and evening when sun light is shining directly into driver’s eyes.

I did learn a lesson today related to riding gear. As I said it was raining quite hard on the way home. I could feel my pants getting wet under my Tourmaster OverPants. Usually I do feel a bit of soak through in the seat but this was something greater. When I pulled into the garage I realize I forgot to zip the crotch shut and seal the Velcro flap. It was open like an air scoop sucking in water the whole way. Other than that the pants shed everything on the outside. When I stopped to take this picture the water was pouring off me. My camera got drenched in a few seconds but cleaned up nicely at home.

For any of you contemplating riding in the rain I’ll offer two suggestions. Ride slower, especially in turns and where you are not sure what the road surface is like, and plan your routes carefully to not put you in situations where you feel compelled to ride at speeds greater than you are comfortable with. The cages don’t seem affected at all by the weather. Their speed is constant, sort of like the North Star…..

Saturday finally saw a let up in the storms and rain of the past few days. By afternoon it was nice and I stopped to photograph the clouds across the valley. I left the house prepared for rain but the grey skies heavy with moisture never let loose as they have been. On Thursday night I was out when a storm blew through with hail and lightning. I ducked inside for the worst of it but still had to ride in a drenching rain and watch the lightning in the distance.

I had a little video camera stuffed in my camera bag this morning and thought I would see what it takes to make a little riding video. You can see the results of the video by clicking the youTube link below.

Yesterday I rode to a local eatery to have lunch with my friend Gordon. After a hearty lunch of bacon, eggs and fried potatoes we headed to Starbucks for tea and dessert. Gordon followed in his Ford Explorer and made this picture of me in the rain.

Things have been uneventful—just riding and enjoying the summer.

I added a video clip to this post. The link is at the bottom of the page. First a little background.

A few days ago I posted on loud exhaust systems. The noise I’m referring to here is mental noise. The noise generated by work, responsibility and the business of carrying on a life on a day-to-day basis. People call it different things, my favorite being Gary Charpentier’s term “Existential Gravity” (Forgive me Gary if I am using it incorrectly). Gary’s blog, Rush Hour Rambling, touches on these issues from time to time.

Noise has an effect on everyone, but for some it’s profound. It may be worse for those who have glimpsed life without it and recognize its heavy weight on their spirit and how pervasive it is.

The video “Why I Photograph” explores noise and tedium and how I use photography as a way to manage its effect. The camera is a tool that has forced me to slow down, pay attention and see what’s going on around me. The experience of using a camera is remarkably similar to what I experience riding the Vespa. The tether to the noisy life is cut and for a short time I am tuned to another channel.

“Why I Photograph” is one of many short videos I have made. I have considered producing a video around riding the Vespa. No wheelies or burnouts, but something that explores what I get out of riding.

Anyways, if you want to see the video stream you’ll need Apple QuickTime Player version 6 or higher. It’s a free download from this link:

DOWNLOAD QUICKTIME PLAYER

Link to video “Why I Photograph”