There are many things that move the soul...

Scooters move the body as well as the soul, but I have long had another interest that seems to do the same. recently, I've gone back to that passtime. I started by painting on the walls. My wife said she didn't mind. The first item is on our dining room wall. All the others are on canvas, except the one sketch. I hope you all enjoy the little art show.

Rainy days and Mondays...

It was a beautiful morning for riding today. The scoot took me to work for a brief meeting. Afterward, we puttered around the back roads and up to Trans-Am Cycles in Lititz.

The scoot has somehow lost one of the anchors that hold the exhaust pipe to the cylinder head. There's still one anchor there but it is missing the nut that usually covers it. So, the scoot gets to go in to the shop in a week and a half.

After visiting the shop, we puttered back down the road. There are some lovely farms between Lititz and East Petersburg. I wanted to get some pics of the Amish haying, but rather than offend them, I just took a pic of the scoot in front of a farm.

It was a beautiful morning, but now it's hailing and there is a tornado watch. It will be the truck that takes me to work and the bikes will sit under their covers.

Moving pavement

I love night riding as a general rule. Yes, it is even more dangerous than riding in daylight, but I think that's part of the draw. Tonight, whilst returning home from work at 11 pm, I discovered one of the many perils a night rider might at some point face.

I was traveling down a stretch of 25 mph suburban roadway, approaching a stop sign. About 15 feet from the stop line, a patch of the center line seemed to detach itself and head into my path. in the first millisecond I thought "what the heck." My next thought was oh, "it's another cat," as I had just seen a feline cross the road a quarter mile back. That thought was quickly followed by "OH CRAP!" as I counter steered to miss the wandering polecat.

As I passed within two feet of the pungent little bugger, I could see him turn as if to load both barrels.

Yes...I blew that stop sign.

Weather...or not...

It's a little odd to have 80 degree days in March, not unheard, of, just odd, but when it drops back down to the 40's, it tends to be a true joy-buster. Today is the first day of trout season. A gloomy cold day (as it kinda should be in March, but still), and though the trout were released eleven days ago, they were feisty.


Not fishing last year was difficult. Little disposable income meant no fishing license. They do cost 32.50 now with the trout stamp, which is more than the budget would allow.

But this year, a little silver scooter will be parked by the edge of the road while its owner trudges along the edge of a local trout stream or two.

Who knew?

Motorcycle and scooter repairs and maintenance can seem daunting at times. When it comes down to brass tacks, they aren't as bad as they seem on the surface.

Hopefully one doesn't run over any brass tacks while riding either.

As mentioned in the previous posting here, there was a little excitement when the Kymco's brakes gave out on an excursion in the middle of February. As per the suggestion of my mechanic friend and the folks at Trans-Am, new brake fluid was purchased and the job of emptying and refilling the brake system commenced. A total of five screws needed to be removed (three from the plastic cowling covering the handlbars, and two from the brake fluid reservoir), a tube was placed on the bleeding valve (fish tank tubing worked fine with a little stretching), and the valve was opened.

After some vigorous pumping of the brake lever, the old fluid (a deep amber color like a better beer, but I wouldn't want to drink it) emptied into the catch pan, and new fluid was poured into the reservoir and pumped through until there were no more bubbles coming out the other end. The reservoir cap was replaced and the brakes now work as they are supposed to.

Now my truck sits in the driveway looking forlorn while I once again motor back and forth to work on two wheels...steering clear of any brass tacks.