Early spring and the rider at dawn

 Winter is on its way out. Yes, it's technically not over until later in March, but here in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, the maple trees are in flower, such as it is, and their red blossoms can be seen adorning the ground beneath their spreading limbs. 

The robins have been here for more than a month, plucking annelids from the earth with vigor and choosing nesting materials for the pending amorous season where new young will eventually emerge from vibrant blue shells.

Crocuses have sprung up out of the ground along with a few daffodils and the leaves of Tulips heralding the blooms to come. It is a time of new life.

And I ride through it on a fuel powered steed. 

The early light of dawn is my companion on roads with few travelers. It crosses the horizon with fiery hues chasing back the waning night, the moon and a few stars in the western sky fading from view.

It is a time of peace and serenity, broken only by a staccato exhaust note and the whirring of cams and lifters working in harmony. It brings a unique type of focus and well-being that can only be found in the solitude of dawn on a deserted roadway with a motorcycle as a sole companion. 

These are the times I am most at peace, 

Soon, the spring will come in full force and those who have allowed their metal steeds to rest for the winter will pull them from their coverings and hiding places, ready them for travel, add new fuel, and join myself and those like me who do not believe in a riding season, but until they do, I will relish the moments of serenity at the beginning and end of the day when there is a special peace to be found.

May all who read this be safe, well, and blessed. May the wind ever be at your back and may your wheels never be parallel to the ground.

#motorcycle #bikelife 

Crashing and the aftermath

 On August 19th, 2022, there was a chance meeting of my 2013 Honda PCX150 and the right side of a 1999 Ford Taurus. It has been almost seven months since that event, but it still plagues me with residual pain from a contusion on my right side that has yet to heal completely. The broken ribs, broken collarbone, and even the concussion have faded, though I still have some mild aphasia. 

Running into the side of a car rendered a few lessons. 

1) do not make a move to merge or assume a lane until the intentions of other motorists in the area are completely clear. In this situation, I saw what I perceived was the driver's move to assume the left lane. He turned on his blinker at the last moment to turn right, but I did not see it due to the angle of the sun and the red color of the blinker, which blended into his tail lamp. I assumed the right side of the lane in anticipation of him following those on the left, and then he turned right directly in front of me. 

2) always wear proper gear. My armored jacket saved me some serious road rash and my helmet prevented a direct injury to my skull. My boots, though scuffed through to the toe protectors, held up and kept my feet from injury. As the above picture shows, my helmet collided with the side of the car and that would have been my temple. 

3) Don't be in a rush. I wanted to get somewhere, so I wasn't focused on the job at hand...and I ended up on the ground and then in an ambulance. 

I still don't remember the ambulance ride. I remember crashing, and I remember laying on the ground, but after that, nothing until I was being wheeled in to the ER. 

The good news is, I survived to ride another day and I've been able to pursue a goal. As this is being written, day 175 is accomplished, of the perfect year goal I set for myself. 

Tomorrow is another day. I will make it count toward something. 

in the pursuit of "the perfect year"

 It is 6:00 in the morning here in south central Pennsylvania. I've been up since 2 am dealing with the early onset of spring allergies due to our weird winter. Having just come through the third warmest February on record, I look back on the progress of a journey I started 175 days ago: the perfect year. 

On August 19th of this past year, I was in a devastating accident with my Honda PCX scooter. The scoot was deemed a total loss, and I was given a sum which exceeded the amount paid for the machine when it was purchased in 2015. Through this, I continued to work (only missing two days), and on September 14th, I took the insurance payout and handed it over in exchange for a 2020 Honda Grom. 

The realization came to me in early December that I had not gone a day without riding a motorcycle, so the decision was made to keep going. I started reporting my journeys on a few Facebook groups and now have a small following of folks who keep track of my progress. 

The perfect year challenge is as follows: Ride a motorcycle for at least 10 consecutive miles (without getting off the bike), over a period of 365 days. I am not the first to attempt this and instead follow in the tracks of others who have gone before. 

The worst day was December 24th, when it reached a low here of 5 degrees Fahrenheit. The morning was crisp and I only put in twelve miles, but it was accomplished by staying out of the wind and sticking to roads in town. 

Since that day I continue to ride, and started the practice of taking a picture of the bike I am riding with a barn found after then ten mile mark. 

I know I have not written in years, but I will try to update this page periodically with tales of the journey toward the perfect year. 

Until then, may the wind always be at your back, and may your wheels never be parallel to the ground.

(bikes shown are 2020 Honda Grom MSX125 and 2010 Honda NT700V)

A long hiatus, and a trip to Massachusetts

It has been quite some time since I've written anything to which I did not also add chords, but I wanted to get back to one of the things I most enjoy.

My mother is going through a change of life. She recently found herself needing the services of a long term care facility, which means that her children (my sister primarily), had the daunting task of cleaning out her apartment and finding homes for her things that could not be stored.

I was assigned several pieces of furniture several blankets, some kitchen-ware and some knickknacks, These were too large to transport via car, so a box truck was reserved.

My lovely wife and I planned to rent a car, drive to Massachusetts, drop off the car, then get a box truck, load up the stuff, and return to Pennsylvania. When we found out how much that would cost, we decided that I would ride up to Massachusetts on my Honda PCX150, load the stuff onto the box truck, then load the scooter in as well and then I alone would drive the box truck back to Pennsylvania. Even with one night stopover in New York, it was a far less expensive option.

So, after getting off work Friday night of Memorial Day weekend, I kissed my wife goodbye, loaded the crate, slung my ukulele on my back, and started out at 6:30 p.m.,

The route started out simple enough: follow US 222 north out of Lancaster and past Reading...but then I told Siri to find me a route that avoided highways and boy howdy, she did. I soon found myself on the most rural of country roads. It was, on the whole, an utterly pleasurable experience. Eventually I did have to find a less rural route, but it was a blast while it lasted. Only one caveat. At one point, Siri did try to send me down a gravel road. I told her no and went around.

I stayed overnight in the village of Monticello, NY, which was all well and good. The motel was seedy, but clean, and it wasn't until the next morning that I realized it was right next door to a drug rehab facility. The scooter was fine, so I wasn't too concerned, even after discovering that I was only a block away from the county jail. Fantastic!

Breakfast at the Monticello Diner was excellent though, and I was soon off again, following Siri through the mountains. The lady at the toll booth over the Hudson wouldn't give me a break on the toll since I only had two wheels, which didn't seem fair, but I made it over the Rip Van Winkle bridge without falling asleep.

It wasn't long before I was traveling down familiar roads into the Berkshire mountains. Route 23 took me all the way to Russell Mass, where I went off the beaten path to come down out of the mountains in the center of town.

The visit with my family was nice, and I even had the opportunity on Sunday to spend some quality time with the PCX, running around the hill towns, taking video and pictures.

Unfortunately, Monday came far too soon. Once the box truck was loaded, the joy of scooter riding was traded for the most unsavory alternative of driving a GMC Savanna modded with a 10 foot box at highway speeds through Connecticut, New York, and New Jersey. It was a horrible experience which I would prefer to never relive.

A plus of this whole story is the completion of yet another ride from Pennsylvania to Massachusetts on a 150cc scooter. The ride can be done if one paces one's self. It is one of the most enjoyable things I can think of.

An orange tennis shoe

It's winter here in Pennsylvania, and the scooter is not getting as much use as it had been since the heater in the Jag was fixed a few weeks back. Scooters are great for driving on dry or wet pavement, but ice and snow tend to make the ride far too interesting for my taste.

Owning an older Jaguar is one of those things that has its pros and cons. On the one hand, it is just such a beautiful place to sit. The leather and wood work together to soothe the senses and when one sits in the driver's seat, the cares of the world just drain away. This is so, even if it's not running, which is often. And that is the other hand. Over the time I owned the Jag, I had to put almost $5,000 of work into her. This past year alone, it's been $2,000+.

So, about a month ago, I started looking at replacement options. Unfortunately, there was a problem. I didn't really want to get rid of the Jag. In my mind, I had planned to keep her as my "classic," and while that was a good idea on paper, the practicalities didn't really work out. Add to that the feeling I get when I sit in that space filled with leather and wood and it made the decision that much more difficult. The Jag spoiled me.

So, I went looking for something that would give me a similar feeling. The first thing I looked at was a Fiat 500 Abarth. Sitting in the driver's seat, looking at all that stitched leather and enjoying the feel of the leather seats was very nice, but the price was not really where I needed to be. And then there was the salesman at the Dodge dealer who was very rude to one of his co-workers. The Fiat was out of the running.

I went looking some more and ended up at the BMW dealer. Of course, that was just me being fanciful and none of the vehicles there had the honor of being a seat for my derriere. I even looked at the Mercedes dealer since, well why not, I was only looking.

Then there was the Mazda Miata (or MX5), which has always held a special place in my heart. It's the middle aged man's simple pleasure, which I discovered this middle aged man can't get out of once he has sat in it. I gave the Miata a chance, I really did. I tried three different examples, but the seats didn't feel right and they were too low to reasonably get in and out of. This turns out to be a good thing, since the Miata is far too impractical.

A couple days ago, I had an appointment to test drive a Scion FR-S. The FR-S is an exciting little sports car, but I had my doubts since it really is no more practical than the MX5. It all worked out, because when I arrived at the dealer, they informed me it had just been driven off the lot by its new owner.

(Interesting point of order here: my wife and I prayed together the night before for guidance and wisdom, and it seems the Almighty had a plan in this the whole time as He always seems to.)

This turn of events led me to the Ford dealer across the way. What really pulled me in was the blinding glare from an orange chunk of metal sitting in their lot, though I tried very hard not to be interested in that one. I looked at the Focus STs, which were out of my price range, and the Fusions, which were too large (I didn't want another big car), and kept going back to look at the Orange tennis shoe.

It is a 2013 Dodge Dart RallyE in blaze orange, and while I know it is not perfect, I test drove it and found it to be very near as comfortable as the Jag, and it even corners as well if not a touch better, despite being front wheel drive. The fuel economy is double that of the Jag on regular gas. Granted, it's still more thirsty than either scooter, but let's be fair; it's a car. Since I purchased it used with 57,000 miles on the clock, I get to enjoy all the bells and whistles and it has almost every option equipped.

Understad that there's a bit of a family connection. My dad, rest his soul, had two Darts back in the 60's. It is not the same car, by any means since it's a Fiat underneath, but there is still that nostalgic feeling when I sit in it, which is nice.

And it drives, boy does it drive. The handling is surprising. It's actually just a touch better than the Jag. Steering, in my most humble opinion, should always be responsive to just a touch and this is precise and then some. Cornering in a front wheel drive car can produce understeer and despite my best efforts on a deserted rotary near my house, the little Dodge just went around and around and around at speeds at which it should have deposited me in the nearby cornfields.

The engine is a naturally aspirated 2.0 which needs a little urging to put me back in my seat like the Jag's used to, but it does get up and go. On paper the 0-60 time is around 9 seconds, but that's ok with me since it does all that I need.

Then there are the benefits of buying a used car (especially at the end of the year when the dealers are working against the clock to meet their sales goals). The price was reduced well below blue book, and it has more bells and whistles than a steam locomotive. Automatic windows, remote starting, bluetooth, back-up camera (which I don't use because that's cheating and I know how to park a car), auto-dimming mirrors, tinted windows, premium wheels, the list goes on.  When one buys a used car, the gizmos that the original owner paid so much for come along with it and you don't really pay that much more than you would for the base model since the depreciation has eaten most of that overhead away.

So now Penelope awaits an uncertain fate, and the Dodge sits in front of my house, waiting for me to drive it to work. It's going to take me a while to get used to the color, but I don't find myself worrying about whether I'm going to get to work, or wherever, and I've still got a fun and interesting car to drive from place to place when it's too cold or sloppy to ride the scoot.

Thank you to all my friends for reading, and a happy new year to you!