Thanks for all the comments! > On Feb 3, 2018, at 12:27 PM, Ken Waller <kwal...@peoplepc.com> wrote: > > Nice purposeful looking bike ! I love the mechanicals.
Thanks Ken! > On Feb 3, 2018, at 8:50 AM, Paul Sorenson <pentax1...@gmail.com> wrote: > > And where did that 75 miles take you? It's kind of a tour around the lower end of Silicon Valley, including some of the mountains to the south and west of the flats: https://farm5.staticflickr.com/4607/26193810138_a883079354_o.jpg The red/pinkish line denotes the outbound ride from Santa Clara up to Alice's Restaurant; the purplish line denotes the inbound ride back to my place in Santa Clara. > On 2/3/2018 10:45 AM, ann sanfedele wrote: >> >> Boys and their toys... >> but it actually is an appealing shot, even though motocycles are not one of >> my favorite things. >> >> But what did you SEE on that lovely ride? Oh, it's a little difficult to explain … :-) There's much more to this than just "me and my toy." In some ways, a ride like this is actually hard work. A ride like this is concentrating on the motorcycle, on the road, on the kinesthetics of being in motion and developing control skills … and on what it takes to be going … not on 'looking around' or sightseeing. But that doesn't mean I'm not looking as I go. I look at *everything*, often cataloging in my mind places I might want to return to and make photographs (or just to sit and watch the sunlight change), specific details of scenery and situation. I don't stop much to make photographs on this kind of ride because every time I stop, it breaks my concentration and disrupts the learning I'm working on, as well as interrupts the flow of the ride. But on this ride: Going up through the wooded sections of Hwy 9, the temperature dropped near Steven's Creek and I could smell the clear, fresh odor of a mountain stream rushing past below me as I passed over the two/three short bridges. There were a pair of deer in a field, near where I was almost killed by a fawn in 1994, up on Skyline. The vinyards (past that and out of the wooded area just beyond) are dormant right now, cut back and waiting for more consistent sun and warmth to start sprouting leaves. On the right, past Page Mill Road, there's a viewing area that overlooks the valley: the air was very clear and Stanford University campus was laid out below in a beautiful setting, like a bas relief painting. A bit past that is Windy Corners where the view to the left (west and south-west) stretches south past the mountains, down the dales and rolling hills, to the Pacific shore and the ocean beyond. It was mostly clear with little wisps of morning fog still lingering here and there to the trees on the wooded slopes. The road through is a continuous, sinuous ribbon of pavement with bits of tar and rubber overlaid into fascinating patterns. In many places on the wiggly up and down bits, the road's edge and the verge to the slope or cliff beyond is dramatically short and can give you a bit of vertigo, if you're inclined that way. I watch the way the sun tries to obscure my vision in various places, and how the water that spills off the side of a steep cliff splashes onto some things below and steams up in the sun, with twinkling lights refracting through the droplets from reflections of the sun… I SEE a whole lot, every time I run the route, about how the road has changed, where the slippery bits are, where the dry and grippy bits are, where the tree root has put a bump on the apex of a corner that I need to be aware of so I can ride through smoothly without being bounced in to the next lane, where the sand from wind off the ocean has been deposited on the road and then shaped by passing cars and trucks. And on and on. When I get to Alice's, I see other riders and other visitors, all chatting amiably with their friends. The guy I offered a seat at my table to lives nearby and is a regular at the restaurant: I asked him what he did (carpenter and farmer) and how those things were going at present. He asked me similarly and I extolled the joy of being retired and being able to take a day like this one and do a ride. He laughed: "I do that anytime I want too, because I'm self-employed and don't care to spend all my time working." We both laughed and had a great conversation following that… I see so many things it would be easy to become distracted, and part of the purpose of this ride, these rides, is to learn how to see and NOT become distracted; how to stay focused on what I'm trying to learn and work the problems I find in that. The thing I missed the most about stopping my riding—when I simply couldn't any longer due to the pain in my hip 15 years ago—is that for most of my adult life, rides like this have been my Zen, my way of focusing and letting go so that I could see the world for what it is, not what I wanted to see through the glasses of my inhibitions. I missed that terribly, a hole ripped out of my heart, and to have it back again now is just so amazing I cannot even begin to describe the emotions. This is life, this is real, and the universe of perceptions is there in every moment of the ride. G — “The biggest hindrance to learning is fear of showing one's self a fool.” - William Least Heat-Moon, Blue Highways >> On 2/3/2018 5:56 AM, Godfrey DiGiorgi wrote: >>> It was a beautiful day out yesterday so I took my Racer out for a nice 75 >>> mile ride! >>> >>> photo: https://flic.kr/p/242CGw6 >>> >>> Full ride report for those who might be interested @ >>> http://www.guzzitech.com/forums/threads/a-ride-up-a-ride-down.18142/ >>> -- PDML Pentax-Discuss Mail List PDML@pdml.net http://pdml.net/mailman/listinfo/pdml_pdml.net to UNSUBSCRIBE from the PDML, please visit the link directly above and follow the directions.