Sojourn Chronicles
Stories of travel
Where are you motorcycling to this year? Friends ask me this frequently. Destinations and travels I have mentioned are only dreams until the planning advances from thought to pen and paper to packing the bags.
See you on the highway.
Brent
I never make New Year resolutions. Really. New Year goals? Well not exactly. Is that a problem? Maybe, and here is what I am going to do about it.
It has been on my mind for some time. A couple of years maybe. Since I have semi-retired … let’s face the reality … fully retired, I have not done much writing or photography except for on Facebook and photography on Instagram. Why should I post my creative material on those social medias when I have my own? That question was driven home by an article posted on The Verge, and shared on FB by a good friend, Bring Back Personal Blogging.
This year, with the weather cooperating, I managed to get in my first ride of the year. January 1, 2023, I took the Moto Guzzi V85tt Adventure for a short ride. Proof is in the second photo, a photo I always wanted to capture.
I have ridden past this sign many, many times, but it always seems to be in the afternoon when the sun is on the other side of the sign and the light is wrong. On this day, it was perfect, and my ride is documented by the date and time of the sign. “Welcome to Morrow” Ohio, a small town near my home. I suppose I can mark this item off my list of motorcycle ride photos.
So, I’m going to do a little more motorcycling this year including some long-distance travels. I’ll be writing about those.
I’m going to be writing about other things too, ideas that harken back to my earlier web site, Sojourn Chronicles. More photography, and especially Black & White photography. I love B&W. Nearly all of my documentary work was shot on B&W film, as was much of my newspaper work. Oh, those were the days. Now, it’s all digital for there is no dark room space here at the galactic headquarters.
The plan is more frequent posts right here. And, I’d like to get that frequency to weekly. Stay tuned.
See you on the highway.
Brent
The night was perfect. Unusually clear sky. Stars shining brightly at about 9 p.m. The phone app, ISS Detector, had signaled the impending flyover of the International Space Station, and it was going to be almost directly overhead on an arc from horizon to horizon for about five minutes.
I stood in my backyard, phone in hand, watching the image of an approaching Space Station coming closer and closer to my viewing spot. And then, there it was rising above the trees, ascending into better view. It shines because its height above the earth is actually reflecting the sunshine off its surface.
Seven astronauts doing their space thing flying along at about 17,000 miles per hour, with all that technology and science. I am in awe to be able to watch such an event. It gets me every time, and this one was perfect.
About one mile away, workers and volunteers were still setting up for the annual Farm Club Antique Tractor Show. I guess tractors were still arriving and being moved into their places for display even at that hour. I could hear the deep chug of a tractor being moved, the kind of sound that only an antique tractor can make. It’s not a smooth whir of an engine, but a deep, single sound of an engine: chug…chug…chug…chug.
I listened to this tractor while watching the Space Station fly over, and it was such a contrast in technology. Overhead is this marvel of technology and science flying silently across the sky, and over at the farm, an antique tractor fills the air with its marvelous low-end mechanical sound. Viewing one and hearing the other was an observation in how far we have come as a civilization. It was surreal.
It is fun to watch such an event with others, to talk about that magnificent object flying overhead. We would have talked about the Space Station until it was out of sight. But, I was solo on this night. If there had been others, I might not have heard the antique tractor which made it surreal. Was being alone meant to be? Fate? Karma? Synchronicity? Perhaps.
I can’t wait until the next time the Space Station flies over.
See you on the highway.
Brent
I have seen images, and even news stories, but I never imagined that I would participate in such an event. It was an honor I will not soon forget.
I was at the VA, moving from one appointment to another when a voice came over the loud speaker. “There will be a Walk of Honor on the second floor.” It was to begin in just a few seconds. In fact, I was on the second floor and rounding the corner of the hallway when I see nurses and doctors emerging to the hallway from behind closed doors. They lined the hall. I asked if I could participate, and they said, “Yes.”
I decided to grab a quick photo. More nurses and doctors emerged, and the hall seemed full of healthcare workers. Then from around the corner came a gurney, covered in white with a folded American flag on top. The hallway was completely silent.
The gurney was pushed by an attendant, and four VA police officers escorted the honored Veteran, two in front, two in back. They silently proceeded down the hallway and disappeared. The hallway cleared almost as quickly as it formed.
I chose not to take a second photo, one of the gurney and the escorts. It did not seem right.
It was an honor to participate in this seemly simple event, but was so profound. These healthcare workers of our VA Medical Center taking the time to honor a Veteran who has passed was a very moving experience. And, these dedicated healthcare workers of our VA system do this not out of duty, but out of compassion for the Veterans in their care. Even for one last time in a hallway with strangers in their midst.
See you on the highway.
Brent
For some strange reason, I awoke this morning dreaming of my 2012 ride on the Oregon Trail. It was a 6,000-mile, 21 day adventure. But, why this morning? Maybe I’m just dreaming of another motorcycle adventure.
See you on the highway.
Brent