Brain Fart: Two Wheels, One Love

I’ve been rolling this around in my head for quite a while, but one of the photos in Karl’s Rider Profile of Sarah Hansing really solidified the point; I know quite a few bicycle people who are also motocycle riders, and visa versa. Having recently been re-bitten by the motorcycle bug, I can certainly sympathize.

It’s always been interesting to me how much crossover there is between the motorized, and non-motorized two-wheeled worlds. Not that this overlap is surprising, quite the contrary. There are obvious parallels; exposure to the elements, the sensation of moving through the air, leaning into corners, etc. The differences are just as obvious; burning petroleum, much higher speeds, and the intoxicating acceleration and deceleration that can only be experienced on a motorcycle. Both two-wheeled endeavors also provide one with a sense of freedom and independence that attracts a lot of us to one, or both, sides of the coin.

I’ve always had a tendency to explore, never feel quite satisfied until I know the lay of the land around me. Starting close to home with walking and cycling, I eventually cover most of the immediate area, but as you travel further from home these trips start to take too long in relation to the amount of ground covered. Enter the motorcycle, which has played a vital role in my exploration. With a motorcycle, or scooter for that matter, one can cover so much more ground in a given amount of time while burning less gas, and arguably having more fun, than one would with four wheels. After all, my relatively large, powerful, gas-hog of a moto still gets 40+ miles per gallon, while smaller more fuel efficient motos and scooters regularly see upwards of 100mpg. Certainly not a bad middle ground in the age of high gas prices.

So, after that long-winded introduction, I thought I’d share some photos from my most recent moto trip to my family’s cabin in north-central Pennsylvania. Russell’s Roost, as it’s called, was named after my great-grandfather. Originally built circa 1940, the cabin has provided a place for my family to retreat for four generations.

My parents accompanied me for part of the ride up:

Look closely at the first shot for the deer in the creek:

Here are some shots of the cabin:

Here’s a photo of the back corner of the cabin. We used to have a bear (haven’t seen him/her in a while) that used this corner as a back scratch, and occasionally tried to get into the cabinent behind this wall:

Of course a cabin built in the ’40s has all the modern conveniences, including a room with a view:

Running water, of the fresh mountain spring variety, and many interesting bugs:

After doing some chores on Saturday morning I headed out to tour some of the hundreds of miles of dirt roads:

Most of which still had some Mountain Laurel in bloom, though it was well past peak:

A good portion of these roads parallel streams like these:

I did manage to hit some tarmac road, and made a stop at Hyner View StatePark to take in the view and see the hang gliders in action:

Later in the day I made my way over to the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon:

After that it was back to the cabin for an evening of relaxation, and some time spent in my favorite chair, with a few mountain-stream-chilled beers courtesy of my folks. This “vintage” vinyl piece of work comes complete with electrical tape patches and armrest mounted ash tray–times change, eh?

Beer, chilling.

It sure was nice to get out of the city and into the solitude of the big woods for a weekend. Every time I’m there, I can’t help but feel the call to stay. Sooner or later…