One of the nice things about being on the road is the ability to allow things to happen.
I'm finding the opposite is true here in California. I'm allowing life to 'come to me', but I really need to listen to my own previous advice... No 'thing' is gonna change my world; it is up to ME!
I've made some small progress in that regard, but this entry serves more as a memory jogger for me.
I shall return (I hope)...
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Subtle Suggestion: (Okay, maybe I shouldn't be so subtle?) Some of my loyal followers have pointed out that the blog is best enjoyed in chronological order. I agree whole-heartedly. Many entries refer back to previous posts, ideas, discoveries, incidents, allegations, etc. You get the picture. I really hope that you enjoy, reflect, and perhaps walk away with an insight or two from my aimless musings. That, however, is best accomplished if you begin at the beginning... Occasionally, I ask someone I really care about, "Hey, have you read my blog?" And they will say, "I looked at it" or "I browsed it." I'm afraid it's not one of those 'browsable' or 'perusable' pieces of prose, it is really meant to be read....
HAPPY READING. I TRULY HOPE YOU'LL BEGIN WITH DAY ONE.
So, I'm back in Southern California... So what? Notice that I didn't say I was 'home.' Southern California has never felt like home to me and I suppose it never will... Take that for what it's worth. If my peanut didn't have her own little peanut, I'm not sure I would have come back at all. Who knows? And since the point is moot, I'm going to continue now.
The first thing that you become aware of once you begin traversing the freeways of SoCal is the high level of angst, anger, and aggressiveness that you can detect on the faces of the drivers. Everyone has some place to be (okay, save me), and everyone is doing their level best to make it there as quickly as possible.... Okay, stop right there! Not everyone is doing their level best; they're texting, reading, talking on the phone, putting on makeup, driving slow in the left lane, sending and receiving faxes, pretty much every- and any-thing in addition to driving that you can possibly think of. It all adds up to one big, giant mess. I prefer not to take part in that, thank you.
So, how do I avoid this morass we call 'traffic' in Southern California? Well, there are several ways:
1. Relocate. This has been suggested to me many times. I've considered it many times. I haven't yet done it, and I've been living here for over 20 years... What's up with that?
2. Telecommute. A possibility if I can get a job teaching on-line. If I didn't have to drive on the freeway, would I be okay living in SoCal?
3. Do something else to make money other than teaching.
4. Find someplace in SoCal that I like. I loved living in Santa Barbara, but that is an expensive proposition. I might be able to live out in the desert away from the populous areas, because I won't be around in the summertime anyway...
5. Give in and become a Californian. I don't know, this seems a rather draconian solution, and one of which I am not very fond...
6. Get a great job and find a great place to live right next door. I tried this approach with my last gig - apartment was .6 miles from school, but too many other night time commitments (teaching) to be able to stay off the dreaded freeways... Also, teaching in Santa Monica (SM), and living in SM, means paying SM rents, and SM rates for food, etc.
7. Die. Not ready for this one yet.
I have definitely ruled out Los Angeles (LA) as a place to live. I just don't feel at ease in the megalopolis that is Los Angeles. I could do Orange County (OC) or San Diego (SD), but each have their drawbacks as well... Places I liked on my trip and could where I could possibly live:
Greenville, SC
Wilmington, NC
Tupelo, MS
Albuquerque, NM
Flagstaff, AZ
the High Desert in CA
Denver, CO
Asheville, NC (Okay, I didn't pass through Asheville this time, but I've already fallen in love with this area on my last cross-country trip in 2002.)
Each of these places have so many things to offer and many have four seasons - albeit of a milder variety than the ones I experienced in New England. Many of them come complete with friends and loved ones. Many are in areas with beautiful biking, riding, camping, and hiking. Well, something to think about, anyway.
So, what are my current priorities then, if finding a place to live is not at or near the top of the list?
1. Finish my damn dissertation! Need to wrap up my doctoral studies and get those last set of letters hanging behind my name... This will also open up other avenues to investigate, as well.
2. Get in some semblance of shape. Yes, round is a shape, ha ha... I can hear you saying it now. I have rediscovered my love of hiking and I think many hours spent out on the trail will help me physically and mentally.
3. Find a source of revenue. Okay, perhaps this should have been number 1 on the list. So sue me. (Good luck with that...)
4. Spend time with people I care about... Now, this is carefully worded, because it would be nice to be in a relationship with someone and to be able to do 'couples' stuff, but I don't know if I am ready for a relationship right now, or if I could even hold up my end of a relationship. In the meantime, I've got some wonderful, loving friends and family with whom it is a pleasure to spend time.
5. Figure out who I am. Sad, but true. More introspection and exploration spiritually, as well as philosophically. I still like the person I am and feel that I have much to offer the world, I suppose I just need to focus and channel my energies in the proper direction... (Shit! I sound just like Tony Robbins or John Tesh or Dr. Phil, or something... Heavy sigh... I have become a cliche...)
While it's good to be 'back', I realize that I still have a lot of work to do before I am a fully actualized human being. Thanks for your help so far, and I promise you haven't heard the last from me and my blog.
Have an awesome day, everyone!
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Subtle Suggestion: (Okay, maybe I shouldn't be so subtle?) Some of my loyal followers have pointed out that the blog is best enjoyed in chronological order. I agree whole-heartedly. Many entries refer back to previous posts, ideas, discoveries, incidents, allegations, etc. You get the picture. I really hope that you enjoy, reflect, and perhaps walk away with an insight or two from my aimless musings. That, however, is best accomplished if you begin at the beginning... Occasionally, I ask someone I really care about, "Hey, have you read my blog?" And they will say, "I looked at it" or "I browsed it." I'm afraid it's not one of those 'browsable' or 'perusable' pieces of prose, it is really meant to be read....
HAPPY READING. I TRULY HOPE YOU'LL BEGIN WITH DAY ONE.
And, physically, I've come full circle. I'm writing this note from the home of my dear friend, Mandy. This is not only her home, but it's the launching point for start of my road trip back on July 3. Since that time, much has happened, but I'm going to save a final reflection on the trip at large for a subsequent posting. For now, I still have some Zion adventures to share with you.
I awoke Friday morning in St. George, Utah, refreshed and eager to zip the 45 minutes or so up to Zion. While attempting to get breakfast in the lobby of my hotel (thanks again, Billy), I wondered why I was surrounded by adolescents and pre-teens... I was informed by someone that Friday was UEA Day. When I inquired, "What's that?" He said, I'm not sure, it just means all the students in Utah are out of school today. Uh oh... This didn't bode well for the weekend, but I didn't dwell on this, rather, it motivated me to get on the road sooner, and so I did...
My intent was to arrive at the park, purchase my pass, and drive straight to Lava Point to claim a free campsite from the six on offer there. The only drawback to Lava Point was printed right on the map - Elevation 7890 Feet! It has been a little too cold at night, even at lower elevations, so I eagerly accepted the suggestion from the ranger at the ticket booth to camp at the South Campground, and I snagged one of the very few remaining spaces. (Yes, I had to pay $16 for the privilege, but it was money well spent; it dropped to below freezing in Lava Pt. that night.)
I set up my tent, and headed off to explore Zion. I have (re-)learned a simple lesson on this trip - it always a good idea to ask questions and seek information when you arrive somewhere you've never been. I'm pretty good at avoiding touristy cliches when I travel, but the insights from locals and experts can certainly help. To that end, Larry, the campground volunteer host at Zion, asked me if I liked to hike. "Yes," was my confident reply, since I'd done a fair amount of hiking with my brother Danny this summer in Upstate NY. Were it not for that hiking prelude, this fat, old man would have countered with some self-deprecating comment like, "Oh, I'll have to save the hikes for my next visit..." Or whatever.
The fact of the matter is that packing for a cross-country motorcycle trip creates logistical challenges as it applies to packing for other activities. What does that mean? It means I didn't have my hiking boots, socks, Camelback, anorak, etc. that I would normally have along on a hike. So, what did I have? A hat, a long-sleeve wicking base layer, my awesome and versatile Harley sweater vest, sneakers, and enough pockets in the cargo shorts my son bought me this summer to hold everything I'd take with me - except water. It was a functional ensemble, I'm proud to say...
After ignoring the stares from the uber-outfitted tourists on the shuttle bus, I practically sprinted to the trailhead and devoured the initial 13 switchbacks up the first part of the trail. I noticed that I was gaining ground quickly and the shuttle buses were shrinking away... I was hiking! And I was hiking in Zion National Park! And I was hiking the trail to Observation Point; a hike rated 'Strenuous' at 8 miles round trip! I maintained a steady pace as I passed through a slot canyon, stopping to take dozens of photos... The scenery was breathtaking and the topography, geology, and flora on display were incredible! I arrived at Observation Point after about 2 1/2 hours of ascending. The view down Virgin River Valley was stunning! I hung out at the top for 10-15 minutes, had my picture taken, and took some very crappy photos (I needed to get closer to the canyon rim so I could shoot down into the canyon instead of out across the canyon... alas, paranoia, fear, and confusion ruled the day at this point). The descent was uneventful - albeit painful - and I arrived back at the shuttle bus stop 3 hours and 45 minutes from my first steps up the trail.
It was an incredible hike, a beautiful view, and I am so happy I did this, but.... (Damn, dude, why does there always have to be a 'but'? Just enjoy and be happy!!!!) But this very challenging hike really took all of my exploration energy for that day and a few of the other spots I wanted to visit were left unseen - for now. I will be back to both Zion and Bryce soon. I promise.
I wrapped up my first day in Zion visit with an excellent pasta dinner at Zion Pizza and Pasta, and a good night's sleep in my tent (I had turned in not long after 7PM - fresh air and hard work equals sleepy). When I arose the next morning, I was greeted by 5 mule deer who were enjoying their breakfast in the greenery surrounding my tent. I took some photos and videos and they remained non-plussed throughout... I packed up and headed off to see the other parts of the park on my motorcycle. I stopped repeatedly to take pictures, and I think some actually turned out :) [An aside here: I've taken over 1400 photographs on the trip and I can't wait to see them on a screen other than my iPhone!!] I road up to Lava Point in the northwestern corner of the park (and confirmed that the camping the night before had been COLD), and took in all the magnificent vistas that part of the park had to offer.
By the time I left Zion around 4PM, I was grinning like a fool and ready for the trip down to Mesquite, NV. Only one problem, the trip to Mesquite turned out to be a trip 75 miles further down the road... My $24 room deal in Mesquite turned into a $122 room rate, which my budget could not support. Down the road I went, stopping at any exit that sported a motel, looking for a place to rest my weary bones. It was not to be found until I reached Vegas, and not without a price!! Now, Vegas has millions of hotel rooms, some to be had for as low as $29. I, however, did not have the patience to seek out the best deal, and settled into my $100 room to shower and sleep. Oh, well... [Note to self: Next time, call AAA before you leave Mesquite, tell them to find you the lowest price room in Vegas, then e-mail details to me... Hey, it's a learning process taking a road trip...]
After exploring two more parks (Joshua Tree!!!!!! and Red Rock Canyon outside Vegas), I'm ready for my last jaunt of this trip... I'll be heading to San Diego to surprise my peanut at work. I haven't seen my daughter since July 3, and that means I haven't seen my granddaughter since then, either...) I can't wait.
If today's entry feels a little business-like to you, you're not alone. I really have grown weary after being on the road for so long, and I haven't included as many reflections and revelations in this posting as I normally would, but I'm saving those for my next post, which could be as early as tonight, but most likely will occur tomorrow in San Diego. Wow. Back in Cali. Let's see how this feels.....
HAPPY READING. I TRULY HOPE YOU'LL BEGIN WITH DAY ONE.
And, physically, I've come full circle. I'm writing this note from the home of my dear friend, Mandy. This is not only her home, but it's the launching point for start of my road trip back on July 3. Since that time, much has happened, but I'm going to save a final reflection on the trip at large for a subsequent posting. For now, I still have some Zion adventures to share with you.
I awoke Friday morning in St. George, Utah, refreshed and eager to zip the 45 minutes or so up to Zion. While attempting to get breakfast in the lobby of my hotel (thanks again, Billy), I wondered why I was surrounded by adolescents and pre-teens... I was informed by someone that Friday was UEA Day. When I inquired, "What's that?" He said, I'm not sure, it just means all the students in Utah are out of school today. Uh oh... This didn't bode well for the weekend, but I didn't dwell on this, rather, it motivated me to get on the road sooner, and so I did...
My intent was to arrive at the park, purchase my pass, and drive straight to Lava Point to claim a free campsite from the six on offer there. The only drawback to Lava Point was printed right on the map - Elevation 7890 Feet! It has been a little too cold at night, even at lower elevations, so I eagerly accepted the suggestion from the ranger at the ticket booth to camp at the South Campground, and I snagged one of the very few remaining spaces. (Yes, I had to pay $16 for the privilege, but it was money well spent; it dropped to below freezing in Lava Pt. that night.)
I set up my tent, and headed off to explore Zion. I have (re-)learned a simple lesson on this trip - it always a good idea to ask questions and seek information when you arrive somewhere you've never been. I'm pretty good at avoiding touristy cliches when I travel, but the insights from locals and experts can certainly help. To that end, Larry, the campground volunteer host at Zion, asked me if I liked to hike. "Yes," was my confident reply, since I'd done a fair amount of hiking with my brother Danny this summer in Upstate NY. Were it not for that hiking prelude, this fat, old man would have countered with some self-deprecating comment like, "Oh, I'll have to save the hikes for my next visit..." Or whatever.
The fact of the matter is that packing for a cross-country motorcycle trip creates logistical challenges as it applies to packing for other activities. What does that mean? It means I didn't have my hiking boots, socks, Camelback, anorak, etc. that I would normally have along on a hike. So, what did I have? A hat, a long-sleeve wicking base layer, my awesome and versatile Harley sweater vest, sneakers, and enough pockets in the cargo shorts my son bought me this summer to hold everything I'd take with me - except water. It was a functional ensemble, I'm proud to say...
After ignoring the stares from the uber-outfitted tourists on the shuttle bus, I practically sprinted to the trailhead and devoured the initial 13 switchbacks up the first part of the trail. I noticed that I was gaining ground quickly and the shuttle buses were shrinking away... I was hiking! And I was hiking in Zion National Park! And I was hiking the trail to Observation Point; a hike rated 'Strenuous' at 8 miles round trip! I maintained a steady pace as I passed through a slot canyon, stopping to take dozens of photos... The scenery was breathtaking and the topography, geology, and flora on display were incredible! I arrived at Observation Point after about 2 1/2 hours of ascending. The view down Virgin River Valley was stunning! I hung out at the top for 10-15 minutes, had my picture taken, and took some very crappy photos (I needed to get closer to the canyon rim so I could shoot down into the canyon instead of out across the canyon... alas, paranoia, fear, and confusion ruled the day at this point). The descent was uneventful - albeit painful - and I arrived back at the shuttle bus stop 3 hours and 45 minutes from my first steps up the trail.
It was an incredible hike, a beautiful view, and I am so happy I did this, but.... (Damn, dude, why does there always have to be a 'but'? Just enjoy and be happy!!!!) But this very challenging hike really took all of my exploration energy for that day and a few of the other spots I wanted to visit were left unseen - for now. I will be back to both Zion and Bryce soon. I promise.
I wrapped up my first day in Zion visit with an excellent pasta dinner at Zion Pizza and Pasta, and a good night's sleep in my tent (I had turned in not long after 7PM - fresh air and hard work equals sleepy). When I arose the next morning, I was greeted by 5 mule deer who were enjoying their breakfast in the greenery surrounding my tent. I took some photos and videos and they remained non-plussed throughout... I packed up and headed off to see the other parts of the park on my motorcycle. I stopped repeatedly to take pictures, and I think some actually turned out :) [An aside here: I've taken over 1400 photographs on the trip and I can't wait to see them on a screen other than my iPhone!!] I road up to Lava Point in the northwestern corner of the park (and confirmed that the camping the night before had been COLD), and took in all the magnificent vistas that part of the park had to offer.
By the time I left Zion around 4PM, I was grinning like a fool and ready for the trip down to Mesquite, NV. Only one problem, the trip to Mesquite turned out to be a trip 75 miles further down the road... My $24 room deal in Mesquite turned into a $122 room rate, which my budget could not support. Down the road I went, stopping at any exit that sported a motel, looking for a place to rest my weary bones. It was not to be found until I reached Vegas, and not without a price!! Now, Vegas has millions of hotel rooms, some to be had for as low as $29. I, however, did not have the patience to seek out the best deal, and settled into my $100 room to shower and sleep. Oh, well... [Note to self: Next time, call AAA before you leave Mesquite, tell them to find you the lowest price room in Vegas, then e-mail details to me... Hey, it's a learning process taking a road trip...]
After exploring two more parks (Joshua Tree!!!!!! and Red Rock Canyon outside Vegas), I'm ready for my last jaunt of this trip... I'll be heading to San Diego to surprise my peanut at work. I haven't seen my daughter since July 3, and that means I haven't seen my granddaughter since then, either...) I can't wait.
If today's entry feels a little business-like to you, you're not alone. I really have grown weary after being on the road for so long, and I haven't included as many reflections and revelations in this posting as I normally would, but I'm saving those for my next post, which could be as early as tonight, but most likely will occur tomorrow in San Diego. Wow. Back in Cali. Let's see how this feels.....
Thursday, October 18, 2012
First off, thanks to many friends for many favors... Dean & Jennifer, Larry & Tina, Franco (Radar), Cory, Tom & Terry for letting me spend time in your homes and for making me feel so welcome. Same to family; Brian & Kate (as well as Bailey, and Livie - and don't forget Charlie).
Thank you also to Bob and Kathy for sharing the Blues, Tupelo Honey for sharing warmth and wisdom, Galen for sharing a trailer and some Elk Chili, Billy for sharing Marriott rewards points and giving me a night of luxury on the road, and Colleen for helping out a friend.
I'm retracing the steps of my trip to try not to forget anyone, but I am 100% certain that I have... It is impossible to thank everyone enough for their support...
But mostly, thank you to those of you who keep coming to these pages and especially those that reach out to share, opine, cajole, remind, challenge, or even agree... I'd love to give each of you a big hug.
The 'Mountain Swing' of the road trip has been filled with amazing vistas, lonely back roads, chilly days and COLD nights, but mostly, it has been filled with an array of nature's beauty... I sat here for a full two minutes trying to figure out how to end that sentence... The sights of New Mexico, Colorado, and Utah have just been too magnificent, too indescribable, too unfathomably incredible for me to even attempt to put into words... Yet, if I don't try, what will I write about tonight?
For the first time since I started this little venture, I don't have a clue what insights I want to share with you. I'll start by sharing a few stories from the road, and perhaps those memories will help me to conjure up some profound observations or discoveries...
First of all, my poor bike (AKA My Faithful Companion or My Trusty Steed)... I have abused the ever-loving crap out of her and she just keeps on going. She has not let me down once on this trip. (I only wish that I could say the same...) Uh oh, you ask - what's happened now? Well, think back to many weeks ago when I was traveling across the Florida panhandle... Remember how I got my poor bike stuck in the sand and I had to work like a dog to dig her out? You do? Okay, now let's all focus our attention on this Tuesday afternoon just south of Hite, Utah. I'll wait while you Google Earth and get your bearings... [Okay, I am certifiably crazy... I've been humming the theme from Jeopardy! - which, by the way I crushed last night in my motel room!!!! I promise I only missed about 6 questions the whole night!!!!]
Okay, you may have located Hite by now... I wondered if it was named after the author and sexologist Shere Hite, but I don't believe it was...
Okay, about 2 miles south of Hite, I crossed over Lake Powell while driving on US 95, Utah Scenic Byway... I really wanted to go down to the water's edge and see the lake, so when I saw a sign that said "Lake Powell Boat Access" three miles thataway I couldn't resist. Down the dirt road I went. Yes, you know I love to ride down dirt roads. Perhaps we can thank my brother, Danny, for that. As I was nearing the water, another rider on an Enduro bike was about 100 yards ahead of me... He went around a large mound to the left, and I chose the road less traveled by, and... promptly buried my poor steed in the sand about 200 yards down the trail.... HEAVY SIGH... Well, being the independent and enterprising young man that I am, I immediately began to dig, and proceeded to move forward some 5 feet. After another repetition of this foolishness, I walked over a ridge to a small trailer inhabited by my new friend, Denise, from Hilton, NY. I will save you the Google Earth search, Hilton is West-Northwest of Rochester, NY, my home for 11 years while I toiled at the big yellow box (Kodak). Denise loaned me a shovel and some wood, and after two failed attempts to extricate the beast with a tow strap, it was back to digging... Just as I was rocking back and forth attempting to dislodge the 800 pound behemoth, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Galen said, "You've almost got it, rock it some more and I'll give you a push." Once was all it took. I climbed out of the deep sand and ricocheted the bike from one shoulder of the trail to the other, looking for purchase on the harder sand edges... It was Steve McQueen-esque stuff, I tell you!
After gasping for air and drinking a water (thank you, Denise), Galen invited me back to his pad for a game of twister and a few cocktails. Well, okay, that's not exactly true... He said, "You got anywhere special to be?" [Sounds just like my friend, Bob, when we met in Clarksdale...] I said, "Nope" or words to that effect. Well, friends, I was tired and hungry and still a good hour's ride from civilization, and a free night in a trailer parked on a ledge over the Colorado River sounded like a damn fine time to me. Of course, me, being all polite and appreciative and everything, said, "You got any food over there? I'm starving!" He laughed and said we'd be okay... And we were, Galen shared three cans of Pepsi Zero with me, each laced with a couple of shots of rum, and for dinner, we ate Elk Chili that Galen had prepared. Well, friends, we sat out by our fire [Slight guilt trip here - Galen had gathered up the wood from under my motorcycle, stating - quite accurately - that if anyone else came ripping down that sand trail, the wood may unexpectedly fly up and tear up their undercarriage... Of course, I think Denise and her husband planned to burn that wood, too..] and enjoyed an evening of stars, drinks, and Elk Chili like I've never experienced before...
Now, Galen had one of those fancy trailers you've seen towed behind pickup trucks. The rear of the unit is open, with a drop deck to roll up your vehicles... Galen had the Kawasaki enduro motorcycle previously featured in this entry, as well as a sweet little ATV which he used to tear around the countryside when he wasn't riding his Kawasaki... The front of the trailer contained a bed, a shower, a terlit (that's hillybilly talk for toilet - Galen and I exchanges some hillbilly talk that night; for instance, he kept telling me about his adventures on his motor-sickle), a fridge, a stove, and a sink. My bed was a recliner stretched out in the back of the trailer... Now, under other circumstances, I would have slept like a baby, however... (you just knew there had to be a 'however' when I said 'under normal circumstances', right?)
It could have been the fact that it was durn cold, or the fact that I had drunk all that Pepsi, but I'm thinking it probably had something to do with the 45MPH wind gusts that kept buffeting the trailer like it wanted to deposit us in the dang blang Colorado River that prevented me from sleeping. I fully expected to hear my bike being driven to the rocks by one of those insane gusts!
I left that encampment the next morning a tired and hungry boy... Galen insisted on feeding me breakfast, but I felt he'd done enough. Besides, the night before, as I related my day's riding to Galen, and my excitement at seeing all the beautiful sights of Utah, he chuckled, held up his fingers about an inch apart, and said, "You've seen that much of it!" We spent at least an hour going over topo maps, tourist maps, maps of Indian territory, BLM maps, AAA maps, maps to the stars homes! (sorry, got carried away there...), I was anxious to go see it for myself. After a tasty breakfast at the Red Rock Cafe in Hanksville, UT, I was down the road to adventure... Still tired, but no longer hungry.
The rest of the day was a blur of reds, yellows, oranges, browns, and earth tones of all magnitudes. I do love riding here in Utah. I just wish they'd have paid their heating bills...
Today, was Bryce Canyon National Park with it's breathtaking views and hoodoos galore. I am told, however, that Zion is even more incredible... Tomorrow, I leave for Zion, and I hope to camp out tomorrow night at Lava Point and explore more of the park on Saturday, before I begin my final push toward Cali. Please, if everyone could hope for a cool (not cold), calm (not windy), comfortable sleeping conditions for me tomorrow, I'd appreciate it... When I come out of the park Saturday evening, I'll head down the road to Mesquite, Nevada (which also means putting my dang helmet back on! Grrrrr) to crash at a hotel that has rooms for $24. I've stopped there on my way to visit my son, Kenny, when he lived in Denver. The plan the following night is to camp in Death Valley and go from there... We shall see...
On the psychological, emotional, spiritual front, I am tired. The time on the road has been invigorating, insightful, inspiring, incredible, indescribable, interesting, and incomparable... It has also been a bit of a grind. I suppose with an unlimited budget, heated grips, perhaps a windshield, and less cold it wouldn't be so exhausting, but it is what it is...
When I return to California in just a few days, I will be a new man; a changed man. I've been trying to figure out whether I will be a more confident man. How can one go through the experiences I've had - alone and independent - and not be a proud man; one sure of my ability to handle whatever life throws at me? I'll try to take it in that direction, but self-belief begins on the inside. Not with what you have or done, but what you are. I guess I am still trying to answer that question after all - just who am I?
Looks like I've got work left to do...
Good night and much love to all...
Thank you also to Bob and Kathy for sharing the Blues, Tupelo Honey for sharing warmth and wisdom, Galen for sharing a trailer and some Elk Chili, Billy for sharing Marriott rewards points and giving me a night of luxury on the road, and Colleen for helping out a friend.
I'm retracing the steps of my trip to try not to forget anyone, but I am 100% certain that I have... It is impossible to thank everyone enough for their support...
But mostly, thank you to those of you who keep coming to these pages and especially those that reach out to share, opine, cajole, remind, challenge, or even agree... I'd love to give each of you a big hug.
The 'Mountain Swing' of the road trip has been filled with amazing vistas, lonely back roads, chilly days and COLD nights, but mostly, it has been filled with an array of nature's beauty... I sat here for a full two minutes trying to figure out how to end that sentence... The sights of New Mexico, Colorado, and Utah have just been too magnificent, too indescribable, too unfathomably incredible for me to even attempt to put into words... Yet, if I don't try, what will I write about tonight?
For the first time since I started this little venture, I don't have a clue what insights I want to share with you. I'll start by sharing a few stories from the road, and perhaps those memories will help me to conjure up some profound observations or discoveries...
First of all, my poor bike (AKA My Faithful Companion or My Trusty Steed)... I have abused the ever-loving crap out of her and she just keeps on going. She has not let me down once on this trip. (I only wish that I could say the same...) Uh oh, you ask - what's happened now? Well, think back to many weeks ago when I was traveling across the Florida panhandle... Remember how I got my poor bike stuck in the sand and I had to work like a dog to dig her out? You do? Okay, now let's all focus our attention on this Tuesday afternoon just south of Hite, Utah. I'll wait while you Google Earth and get your bearings... [Okay, I am certifiably crazy... I've been humming the theme from Jeopardy! - which, by the way I crushed last night in my motel room!!!! I promise I only missed about 6 questions the whole night!!!!]
Okay, you may have located Hite by now... I wondered if it was named after the author and sexologist Shere Hite, but I don't believe it was...
Okay, about 2 miles south of Hite, I crossed over Lake Powell while driving on US 95, Utah Scenic Byway... I really wanted to go down to the water's edge and see the lake, so when I saw a sign that said "Lake Powell Boat Access" three miles thataway I couldn't resist. Down the dirt road I went. Yes, you know I love to ride down dirt roads. Perhaps we can thank my brother, Danny, for that. As I was nearing the water, another rider on an Enduro bike was about 100 yards ahead of me... He went around a large mound to the left, and I chose the road less traveled by, and... promptly buried my poor steed in the sand about 200 yards down the trail.... HEAVY SIGH... Well, being the independent and enterprising young man that I am, I immediately began to dig, and proceeded to move forward some 5 feet. After another repetition of this foolishness, I walked over a ridge to a small trailer inhabited by my new friend, Denise, from Hilton, NY. I will save you the Google Earth search, Hilton is West-Northwest of Rochester, NY, my home for 11 years while I toiled at the big yellow box (Kodak). Denise loaned me a shovel and some wood, and after two failed attempts to extricate the beast with a tow strap, it was back to digging... Just as I was rocking back and forth attempting to dislodge the 800 pound behemoth, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Galen said, "You've almost got it, rock it some more and I'll give you a push." Once was all it took. I climbed out of the deep sand and ricocheted the bike from one shoulder of the trail to the other, looking for purchase on the harder sand edges... It was Steve McQueen-esque stuff, I tell you!
After gasping for air and drinking a water (thank you, Denise), Galen invited me back to his pad for a game of twister and a few cocktails. Well, okay, that's not exactly true... He said, "You got anywhere special to be?" [Sounds just like my friend, Bob, when we met in Clarksdale...] I said, "Nope" or words to that effect. Well, friends, I was tired and hungry and still a good hour's ride from civilization, and a free night in a trailer parked on a ledge over the Colorado River sounded like a damn fine time to me. Of course, me, being all polite and appreciative and everything, said, "You got any food over there? I'm starving!" He laughed and said we'd be okay... And we were, Galen shared three cans of Pepsi Zero with me, each laced with a couple of shots of rum, and for dinner, we ate Elk Chili that Galen had prepared. Well, friends, we sat out by our fire [Slight guilt trip here - Galen had gathered up the wood from under my motorcycle, stating - quite accurately - that if anyone else came ripping down that sand trail, the wood may unexpectedly fly up and tear up their undercarriage... Of course, I think Denise and her husband planned to burn that wood, too..] and enjoyed an evening of stars, drinks, and Elk Chili like I've never experienced before...
Now, Galen had one of those fancy trailers you've seen towed behind pickup trucks. The rear of the unit is open, with a drop deck to roll up your vehicles... Galen had the Kawasaki enduro motorcycle previously featured in this entry, as well as a sweet little ATV which he used to tear around the countryside when he wasn't riding his Kawasaki... The front of the trailer contained a bed, a shower, a terlit (that's hillybilly talk for toilet - Galen and I exchanges some hillbilly talk that night; for instance, he kept telling me about his adventures on his motor-sickle), a fridge, a stove, and a sink. My bed was a recliner stretched out in the back of the trailer... Now, under other circumstances, I would have slept like a baby, however... (you just knew there had to be a 'however' when I said 'under normal circumstances', right?)
It could have been the fact that it was durn cold, or the fact that I had drunk all that Pepsi, but I'm thinking it probably had something to do with the 45MPH wind gusts that kept buffeting the trailer like it wanted to deposit us in the dang blang Colorado River that prevented me from sleeping. I fully expected to hear my bike being driven to the rocks by one of those insane gusts!
I left that encampment the next morning a tired and hungry boy... Galen insisted on feeding me breakfast, but I felt he'd done enough. Besides, the night before, as I related my day's riding to Galen, and my excitement at seeing all the beautiful sights of Utah, he chuckled, held up his fingers about an inch apart, and said, "You've seen that much of it!" We spent at least an hour going over topo maps, tourist maps, maps of Indian territory, BLM maps, AAA maps, maps to the stars homes! (sorry, got carried away there...), I was anxious to go see it for myself. After a tasty breakfast at the Red Rock Cafe in Hanksville, UT, I was down the road to adventure... Still tired, but no longer hungry.
The rest of the day was a blur of reds, yellows, oranges, browns, and earth tones of all magnitudes. I do love riding here in Utah. I just wish they'd have paid their heating bills...
Today, was Bryce Canyon National Park with it's breathtaking views and hoodoos galore. I am told, however, that Zion is even more incredible... Tomorrow, I leave for Zion, and I hope to camp out tomorrow night at Lava Point and explore more of the park on Saturday, before I begin my final push toward Cali. Please, if everyone could hope for a cool (not cold), calm (not windy), comfortable sleeping conditions for me tomorrow, I'd appreciate it... When I come out of the park Saturday evening, I'll head down the road to Mesquite, Nevada (which also means putting my dang helmet back on! Grrrrr) to crash at a hotel that has rooms for $24. I've stopped there on my way to visit my son, Kenny, when he lived in Denver. The plan the following night is to camp in Death Valley and go from there... We shall see...
On the psychological, emotional, spiritual front, I am tired. The time on the road has been invigorating, insightful, inspiring, incredible, indescribable, interesting, and incomparable... It has also been a bit of a grind. I suppose with an unlimited budget, heated grips, perhaps a windshield, and less cold it wouldn't be so exhausting, but it is what it is...
When I return to California in just a few days, I will be a new man; a changed man. I've been trying to figure out whether I will be a more confident man. How can one go through the experiences I've had - alone and independent - and not be a proud man; one sure of my ability to handle whatever life throws at me? I'll try to take it in that direction, but self-belief begins on the inside. Not with what you have or done, but what you are. I guess I am still trying to answer that question after all - just who am I?
Looks like I've got work left to do...
Good night and much love to all...
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
I'm tired and hungry and Utah has been blowing my mind for the past two days... Bryce and Zion are on deck; I can't imagine what's in store for me the next couple of days...
No computer access, so this will be brief.
Thanks again for all the support and positive feedback!!!!
I'm gonna try to grab 40 winks before dinner.
I hope to find a computer soon...
Be well
No computer access, so this will be brief.
Thanks again for all the support and positive feedback!!!!
I'm gonna try to grab 40 winks before dinner.
I hope to find a computer soon...
Be well
Monday, October 15, 2012
I'm afraid that my blog, like me, is dying...
As I get closer to my destination, it dawns on me that I am no closer to finding my place in the world than I was when I left California on July 3. I've had a lot of time to think and I've nurtured a lot of thoughts. I've questioned, pondered, mused, reflected, and considered, but I've had few - if any - real Eureka! moments. So, where does that me, other than sitting in Albuquerque NM? I haven't a clue. I thought I was going to be collecting unemployment for a while once I returned to CA, but it looks like I've got a couple of part time night jobs lined up... This poses an additional dilemma for me; specifically, where do I live when I get back?
This has been an issue that has really been eating at me of late... I really wanted to be in San Diego with my peanut, April, and my granddaughter, Stella. If I can get my schedule worked out, I may be able to spend some chunks of time there and still hang out with my friends in the OC and LA. And, of course, writing my damn dissertation... I'm glad I've always been nice to homeless people, because now I are one. I may have said this previously, but it sucks that a 54 year old man should be this unsettled. All around me, friends and acquaintances are retiring and enjoying life. I do love teaching - most facets of it - and I think I might teach for another 13 years or so, enjoying my summers and drawing strength and energy from my students. This is one of the greatest benefits of teaching, sending out love to students and receiving it back tenfold. I just hope someone will have me...
I am looking forward to some of the places I'm going to visit in the next few days; Zion, Bryce, Monument Valley, Taos, etc... The past several days on the bike have been stress-filled and weather-challenged. The skies have been threatening, and Saturday I rode into a cold headwind that was so strong, it cost me 10 miles per gallon in fuel economy. What Saturday's ride did provide, however, was some deja vu for me, since I had traveled down this same road 10 years ago on my first cross-country excursion. I even took some '10 years after' photos in the same places I did then.
Another bonus in riding at altitude at this time of the year is fall foliage. I didn't get to see a whole lot of foliage before I left New England, so I'm thrilled to be seeing it now.
Friday's ride from Lawton OK, to Portales, NM was stress-inducing. I went due south, then straight west to avoid rain (for the most part, I was successful). I need some new AAA maps and I pulled over to put my helmet on when I entered Texas. At the same time, I called AAA to try and find an office in the panhandle. I got the huge run-around on the phone, and got on the bike pissed because I wasted 20 minutes by the side of the road... Riding in a bad mood is not positive, so I looked for a place for a mental health break. I saw a sign that said "Lake Distraction" and I figured perfect!! I pulled over, started stripping off layers of clothing and actually stood on this dirt road in the middle of Texas shirtless, letting the sun wash over me...
I was still singing "American Tune", but this time I was focusing on the lyrics I wonder what went wrong...
What went wrong? In my two marriages? First, I got married too young (19? too young!). In the second, I got married too quick (10 months from first date to the altar).
What went wrong? In my professional career? I don't know... Too much doing things my way, perhaps? Heck, I don't know, but Im sure I'll think about that some more today...
Stay tuned.
As I get closer to my destination, it dawns on me that I am no closer to finding my place in the world than I was when I left California on July 3. I've had a lot of time to think and I've nurtured a lot of thoughts. I've questioned, pondered, mused, reflected, and considered, but I've had few - if any - real Eureka! moments. So, where does that me, other than sitting in Albuquerque NM? I haven't a clue. I thought I was going to be collecting unemployment for a while once I returned to CA, but it looks like I've got a couple of part time night jobs lined up... This poses an additional dilemma for me; specifically, where do I live when I get back?
This has been an issue that has really been eating at me of late... I really wanted to be in San Diego with my peanut, April, and my granddaughter, Stella. If I can get my schedule worked out, I may be able to spend some chunks of time there and still hang out with my friends in the OC and LA. And, of course, writing my damn dissertation... I'm glad I've always been nice to homeless people, because now I are one. I may have said this previously, but it sucks that a 54 year old man should be this unsettled. All around me, friends and acquaintances are retiring and enjoying life. I do love teaching - most facets of it - and I think I might teach for another 13 years or so, enjoying my summers and drawing strength and energy from my students. This is one of the greatest benefits of teaching, sending out love to students and receiving it back tenfold. I just hope someone will have me...
I am looking forward to some of the places I'm going to visit in the next few days; Zion, Bryce, Monument Valley, Taos, etc... The past several days on the bike have been stress-filled and weather-challenged. The skies have been threatening, and Saturday I rode into a cold headwind that was so strong, it cost me 10 miles per gallon in fuel economy. What Saturday's ride did provide, however, was some deja vu for me, since I had traveled down this same road 10 years ago on my first cross-country excursion. I even took some '10 years after' photos in the same places I did then.
Another bonus in riding at altitude at this time of the year is fall foliage. I didn't get to see a whole lot of foliage before I left New England, so I'm thrilled to be seeing it now.
Friday's ride from Lawton OK, to Portales, NM was stress-inducing. I went due south, then straight west to avoid rain (for the most part, I was successful). I need some new AAA maps and I pulled over to put my helmet on when I entered Texas. At the same time, I called AAA to try and find an office in the panhandle. I got the huge run-around on the phone, and got on the bike pissed because I wasted 20 minutes by the side of the road... Riding in a bad mood is not positive, so I looked for a place for a mental health break. I saw a sign that said "Lake Distraction" and I figured perfect!! I pulled over, started stripping off layers of clothing and actually stood on this dirt road in the middle of Texas shirtless, letting the sun wash over me...
I was still singing "American Tune", but this time I was focusing on the lyrics I wonder what went wrong...
What went wrong? In my two marriages? First, I got married too young (19? too young!). In the second, I got married too quick (10 months from first date to the altar).
What went wrong? In my professional career? I don't know... Too much doing things my way, perhaps? Heck, I don't know, but Im sure I'll think about that some more today...
Stay tuned.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Friday, October 12, 2012
When last I left you, I was waking up to (more!) slate-grey skies at the Rocky Point campground on the Natchez Trace. I joined my generous neighbors for a cup of coffee and headed back up the parkway. I had mentioned to Bobby that I wanted to go up and ride in the Ozarks, and he immediately said, "You need to go to Mena!" This was the same advice I'd gotten from Bob Welling - my guardian angel in Clarksdale. After enduring some rain on Interstate 20, I was in Arkansas - home of the worst drivers I've seen on the trip to date. Of course, I may change my mind once I return to California.
The ride up and over the Talimena Scenic Parkway was a series of breathtaking vistas in either side of the road... I was hard-pressed to pay attention to the business at hand. I set up camp in Queen Philamena State Park at the top of Rich Mountain. (The entire area was the Winding Stair Mountain National Recreation Area - just gorgeous!) After I set up my tent, I took a little time to read. I had stopped along the way and purchased a 12" sub at Subway, eating half at the time and saving the rest for dinner. As I ate, I read my book. I am almost finished with the Celestine Prophecy. I will probably read it again when I ride through Zion and Bryce in Utah. It seems a mystical place for me; perfect for the message in the book.
After I read and climbed into my sleeping bag, an overwhelming feeling came upon me... For the first time in this trek, I felt very lonely. The irony of this was not lost on me... In the altitudinal nadir of the Mississippi Delta, my spirits had soared to their highest heights. Yet, on the zenith of my trip, I felt my lowest... I had been traveling alone for many miles (just about 9000 at last count), yet I had not felt lonely until now. I wonder why? Is there someone in particular who I wished was by my side? Am I growing tired of the journey? Perhaps after camping in the presence of such sweet people traveling as a family, I realized I was totally alone out here on the road... Whatever the reason, the melancholy and the fading sunlight made for a doleful evening.
In the middle of the night, the winds kicked up and the temperatures dropped considerably. Clearly, this was my coldest night of camping out... I think the temperatures were in the low 40s, and I don't even want to think about the wind chill with those sustained winds. Inside my tent, I was snug and warm, that is until I needed to pee. Ugh. Well, one must hydrate as my dear friend Tom Hemingway reminded me. And, when one hydrates, one needs to evacuate as necessary. I opened the tent, stepped out and did my business. There were incredible lights glowing in the valley below me, but for the most part, it was a starless, windy night. When I returned to my tiny little tent, I was unable to get the tent peg back securely into the ground, so.... My nice, cozy, warm tent now had ingress for the wind and cold. Ugh. I shoved my rolled up jeans and rainpants into the corner to stretch the nylon as far as it could go and returned to restless slumber...
When I arose in the morning, I was all business. I was out of the tent at 8:05 and on the bike by 8:30 - easily a record time for breaking camp. Cold and hunger are incredible motivators :) On the way down the mountain - accompanied by The Band serenading in my cranium Up on Cripple Creek (When I get off of this mountain, you know where I want to go...) When I get off of this mountain, I know where I want to go - food! Bur first, there was business to conduct... I had promised my beloved sister, Kathy, that I would shout her name into an awesome vista. I found the perfect place at the Sugarloaf turnout and I shouted at the top of my lungs, "Kathy Petronis Forrister sends peace, love and positive energy out to the world... I love you, Sissy!"
At the bottom of the long, winding, beautiful road, I stumbled into Talihina, Oklahoma, and the Red Arrow Cafe. Breakfast was fabulous and cheap! ($4.67 for two pieces of french toast, two pieces of bacon, and coffee) When I related my trip to my waitress, she said, "You must be very lonely!" Wow. Up until now, whenever I'd told people of my adventure, the reactions were typically ones of jealousy, awe, wonder, incredulity, or inquisitiveness. This was the first time that anyone had ever asked if I was lonely... Am I that transparent? How could she know as she watched me sip coffee, study road maps, and ingest my tasty breakfast? Hmmm...
East central Oklahoma was shockingly hilly and very beautiful. I stopped along the way to photograph some pretty yellow flowers (I noticed lately that I'm attracted to yellow flowers) and I cool metal sculpture featuring a butterfly atop an outstretched index finger. I thought about that sculpture for 4.2 miles before I turned around to go back and snap the photos... I regret, however, that I did not snap a shot of the gas station that I passed earlier that had an official, professionally made sign that said, "GORILLA STORE." Hmmmm.... That will be forever a mystery now.
Well, as I mentioned earlier, rain awaits me today. If I were a man on unlimited means, I'd stay here and let the storms pass in the comfort of my hotel. However, well, you know...
I hope to see you all again soon!
I remain hopeful and happy, despite my loneliness.
The ride up and over the Talimena Scenic Parkway was a series of breathtaking vistas in either side of the road... I was hard-pressed to pay attention to the business at hand. I set up camp in Queen Philamena State Park at the top of Rich Mountain. (The entire area was the Winding Stair Mountain National Recreation Area - just gorgeous!) After I set up my tent, I took a little time to read. I had stopped along the way and purchased a 12" sub at Subway, eating half at the time and saving the rest for dinner. As I ate, I read my book. I am almost finished with the Celestine Prophecy. I will probably read it again when I ride through Zion and Bryce in Utah. It seems a mystical place for me; perfect for the message in the book.
After I read and climbed into my sleeping bag, an overwhelming feeling came upon me... For the first time in this trek, I felt very lonely. The irony of this was not lost on me... In the altitudinal nadir of the Mississippi Delta, my spirits had soared to their highest heights. Yet, on the zenith of my trip, I felt my lowest... I had been traveling alone for many miles (just about 9000 at last count), yet I had not felt lonely until now. I wonder why? Is there someone in particular who I wished was by my side? Am I growing tired of the journey? Perhaps after camping in the presence of such sweet people traveling as a family, I realized I was totally alone out here on the road... Whatever the reason, the melancholy and the fading sunlight made for a doleful evening.
In the middle of the night, the winds kicked up and the temperatures dropped considerably. Clearly, this was my coldest night of camping out... I think the temperatures were in the low 40s, and I don't even want to think about the wind chill with those sustained winds. Inside my tent, I was snug and warm, that is until I needed to pee. Ugh. Well, one must hydrate as my dear friend Tom Hemingway reminded me. And, when one hydrates, one needs to evacuate as necessary. I opened the tent, stepped out and did my business. There were incredible lights glowing in the valley below me, but for the most part, it was a starless, windy night. When I returned to my tiny little tent, I was unable to get the tent peg back securely into the ground, so.... My nice, cozy, warm tent now had ingress for the wind and cold. Ugh. I shoved my rolled up jeans and rainpants into the corner to stretch the nylon as far as it could go and returned to restless slumber...
When I arose in the morning, I was all business. I was out of the tent at 8:05 and on the bike by 8:30 - easily a record time for breaking camp. Cold and hunger are incredible motivators :) On the way down the mountain - accompanied by The Band serenading in my cranium Up on Cripple Creek (When I get off of this mountain, you know where I want to go...) When I get off of this mountain, I know where I want to go - food! Bur first, there was business to conduct... I had promised my beloved sister, Kathy, that I would shout her name into an awesome vista. I found the perfect place at the Sugarloaf turnout and I shouted at the top of my lungs, "Kathy Petronis Forrister sends peace, love and positive energy out to the world... I love you, Sissy!"
At the bottom of the long, winding, beautiful road, I stumbled into Talihina, Oklahoma, and the Red Arrow Cafe. Breakfast was fabulous and cheap! ($4.67 for two pieces of french toast, two pieces of bacon, and coffee) When I related my trip to my waitress, she said, "You must be very lonely!" Wow. Up until now, whenever I'd told people of my adventure, the reactions were typically ones of jealousy, awe, wonder, incredulity, or inquisitiveness. This was the first time that anyone had ever asked if I was lonely... Am I that transparent? How could she know as she watched me sip coffee, study road maps, and ingest my tasty breakfast? Hmmm...
East central Oklahoma was shockingly hilly and very beautiful. I stopped along the way to photograph some pretty yellow flowers (I noticed lately that I'm attracted to yellow flowers) and I cool metal sculpture featuring a butterfly atop an outstretched index finger. I thought about that sculpture for 4.2 miles before I turned around to go back and snap the photos... I regret, however, that I did not snap a shot of the gas station that I passed earlier that had an official, professionally made sign that said, "GORILLA STORE." Hmmmm.... That will be forever a mystery now.
Well, as I mentioned earlier, rain awaits me today. If I were a man on unlimited means, I'd stay here and let the storms pass in the comfort of my hotel. However, well, you know...
I hope to see you all again soon!
I remain hopeful and happy, despite my loneliness.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Blogging has proved to be more challenging than I had anticipated. It's not the physical act of blogging, but trying to keep track and sort all the myriad thoughts that go racing through my brain while motoring down the road. Some take root and I ruminate on them for hours, while others lie dormant and succumb to a lonely demise...
I'm in Lawton, Oklahoma, and I rode almost 400 miles to get here today. I arrived in a somewhat foul mood, circling the city looking for food that did not at least remotely resemble fast food. After seemingly hours (okay, it was closer to 25 minutes) I stumbled into a sports bar had a fine pulled pork sandwich and a nice Newcastle.
This will be a herculean, if not impossible task, but I've got to try to summarize events since I left Tupelo, MS on Tuesday morning. Let's start there, shall we?
I left Tupelo at about 11:15AM, much later than I really do like to get on the road. I'd spent the morning, as you may recall, blogging, and I took full advantage of the 11AM check out. Within minutes of exiting my motel, I was back on the incredibly beautiful Natchez Trace Parkway, with a destination in mind (yes, I know, I said no destination riding, but this one was within easy reach on the parkway...), a campsite at mile marker 54.5 on the Trace. When I got on, I was near marker 280, so I knew a 240 mile ride at 55 miles per hour (this is a parkway, remember, no traffic lights, stop signs, commercial truck traffic, etc. - pure bliss with a posted speed limit of 50MPH).
The day's ride was one of the best of my life. I was happy, relaxed, unhurried, and well fed. All important components for a great ride. The ride began well... and only got better!
As I was riding down the Trace, I became totally overcome with such elation that tears of joy were running out of my goggles... For the first time in my life, I had to pull over to the side of the road because I couldn't see due to tear of pure happiness. At the time, I was singing "American Tune" and as I sang "I dreamed I was flying", I felt as if I were literally flying. It was a moment of pure and total euphoria (and those of you following on Facebook, may recall that in approx. 8 miles from the moment I experienced this elation, I passed by an exit sign for the town of Eupora (yes, I know the spelling is not the same, but close enough...).
Now, the trouble is, I am motoring down the Trace, a parkway with no shoulder - grass grows right up to the edge of the road - so I have to fight through these tears to find a safe place to pull over... The only places with shoulders are exits, exhibits, turn-outs, and bridges. Since bridges are far more plentiful, I pulled over at the first bridge I came to, sat upon it, and documented the moment in my journal. (I took a photo of the location to commemorate the event)
Ten minutes later, I'm pulled over at another bridge and I'm writing in my journal again! This is the essence of what I meant when I decried destination riding and its attendant tunnel-vision riding mentality. Today, I was going to ride, write, reflect, and revel in the experience. The campground would still be there when I arrive (and, lo and behold, it was when I arrived at 6PM)! I noted the irony of the town of Eupora, and jotted down in my journal, "No coincidences!! We make our own reality -- I am the captain of my soul!" Okay, that might be a tad melodramatic, but I was beyond exaltation at this point in time...
I reminded myself that we make our lives what we will them to be, regardless of: Social Status, Perceived Prejudices, History, or Habits... This launched me into another line of thinking which I will politely reserve for the time being.
Another 5-10 miles, and another bridge later (that's three stops within 20 miles for those of you keeping score at home...) and I've been thinking about my students. I activate my phone (I keep it on Airplane Mode most of the time to try and save my battery; I can't charge it when I'm camping) and at the moment in time (no coincidences!) I got a text from Tyler Mulvaney who tells me that he had been in bed and feeling under the weather. He said he read my blog and felt so much better - and he began planning his own trip. This is just one example of the type of feedback I've heard from my students... Thanks, Tyler. Your comments were very timely for me!
I began to think about dating (no, not you, Tyler), but of the online methods I'd tried and the artificial, forced, contrived situations that it creates. For a long time I had told myself, "Do the things you love to do, and you will find others who love the same things that you do. Wouldn't that be a good way to start a relationship?" And I thought about how much I love the blues and that being in Clarksdale was no accident, and... [I don't yet know where and... goes at this point, but I promise to keep you posted]
RULES OF THE ROAD: (Continued)
In a previous post, I had shared a draft of my rules of the road. As I was riding this day, I thought of a few more rules - albeit a little more mundane than those I've already shared...
1. Make sure you pull your rainpants down far enough when you stop by the side of the road to relieve yourself.
2. Always have a bottle of water on hand.
3. Try not get sunscreen in your eyes.
4. Floating leaves are pretty, but they hurt as much as raindrops when they smack you in the face.
5. Bungee cords are worth 10 times their weight in gold (thank you to my son for reminding me that you can never have too many...)
6. To prevent shin contusions, watch out for the low-lying footpegs!!!
The bungee cord comment reminds me of some successful field modifications that I've used to great benefit during my t rip:
A. Bungee cords around the pant cuffs prevent cold air from blowing up the pant legs.
B. Wearing your watch on top of your long sleeve shirt means you can actually see what time it is.
C. A leather jacket secured to the T-Bag (yes, bungee cords) with it's sleeves inverted makes an excellent water bottle holder
D. My nylon laundry bag containing socks and underwear is a fabulous pillow (simply cover with a tee-shirt)
Those are all the ones that come to mind presently, but there are countless decisions made on the road, and some are better than others ;)
Back to Tuesday (Yes, I'm still talking about Tuesday's ride, deal with it!)...
I saw a beautiful vista and I just had to stop and get a photo... It was one of those days, after all. I'd stopped no fewer than 10 times to write, photograph, hike, take a mental health break, etc.
As I pulled over to take the photo, I stopped on the side of the parkway (remember, this means grass unless as noted above). I leaned the bike to the right, so I could throw out the kickstand to the left, aaaaaaand... the bike kept leaning right. It leaned so far that it rolled right over on it's side and as it did so, I swear I heard it whisper, "Take that Bee-atch!" I stood there momentarily, threw down my gloves in disgust and moved into place to lift the great beast. Just as I did so, a gentleman pulled over to help. "Are you okay, buddy?" Yes, I said. I'm getting ready to pick this thing up... How is your back? "Well," he says, "It's pretty jacked up... What do you want me to do?" Just hold the handlebars and steady it when I get it upright (the last thing you want is to get so much momentum going the bike just flops over the other way). Well, after some effort, the bike is erect and my Good Samaritan escapes unharmed.
We exchange pleasantries (I would have included his name here and thanked him, but then we had the following exchange... Tell me if you would have published his moniker.) He tells me he just left a funeral for an old hippie friend he'd known for 40 years. He's got a catch in his voice and a lump in his throat. I tell him I'm sorry and he tells me a little about the funeral... "I'm standing there with my arm around a friend I hadn't seen in several years..." I'm genuinely touched, as he continues... "Yeah, I just texted her and said 'I really wanted to grab your ass!'" Okaaaay... this is not where I envisioned this going, but okay, it's been a long time since he's seen her. Then, "She's divorced, but I'm still married. But my wife is leaving town this Thursday and all the whores I know, you need to plant you flag too deep in concrete, if you know what I mean..." I feigned understanding and started the bike; the moment had clearly taken off in a direction that was somewhere south of 'poignant.' [Later on, I think I deciphered what he meant about 'burying your flagpole in concrete.' I think he meant, you might need to wear 7 or 8 condoms to avoid catching some horrific social disease, whereas his 'friend' was presumably somewhat cleaner, and therefore safer...]
Let's change the subject, please!
I made it to Rocky Point campsite and my neighbor, Bobby, was as helpful as could be. I spent some time with his wife and their 88 year-old traveling companion, a World War II Veteran who had walked a 10K in each of the fifty states (joined by his departed wife). I believe that he learned to do this in Germany, and it is called VolksWalking... More on these lovely folks when I talk about my departure on Wednesday. For now, a hot bubble bath is calling me after 400 gritty miles today. Yes, I said a bubble bath!!!
Tuesday's soundtrack:
I was 'Going to Jackson' again, as I was backtracking down the Trace... (you can't go wrong singing Johnny Cash)
'Crazy Train' - Was Ozzy Osborne insinuating that I was crazy for backtracking some 400 miles just to accompany someone to dinner?
'Never Been to Spain' - Three Dog Night: I think since I knew I was heading for Oklahoma...
I've never been to Spain, but I've been to Oklahoma...
I love you all...
I'm in Lawton, Oklahoma, and I rode almost 400 miles to get here today. I arrived in a somewhat foul mood, circling the city looking for food that did not at least remotely resemble fast food. After seemingly hours (okay, it was closer to 25 minutes) I stumbled into a sports bar had a fine pulled pork sandwich and a nice Newcastle.
This will be a herculean, if not impossible task, but I've got to try to summarize events since I left Tupelo, MS on Tuesday morning. Let's start there, shall we?
I left Tupelo at about 11:15AM, much later than I really do like to get on the road. I'd spent the morning, as you may recall, blogging, and I took full advantage of the 11AM check out. Within minutes of exiting my motel, I was back on the incredibly beautiful Natchez Trace Parkway, with a destination in mind (yes, I know, I said no destination riding, but this one was within easy reach on the parkway...), a campsite at mile marker 54.5 on the Trace. When I got on, I was near marker 280, so I knew a 240 mile ride at 55 miles per hour (this is a parkway, remember, no traffic lights, stop signs, commercial truck traffic, etc. - pure bliss with a posted speed limit of 50MPH).
The day's ride was one of the best of my life. I was happy, relaxed, unhurried, and well fed. All important components for a great ride. The ride began well... and only got better!
As I was riding down the Trace, I became totally overcome with such elation that tears of joy were running out of my goggles... For the first time in my life, I had to pull over to the side of the road because I couldn't see due to tear of pure happiness. At the time, I was singing "American Tune" and as I sang "I dreamed I was flying", I felt as if I were literally flying. It was a moment of pure and total euphoria (and those of you following on Facebook, may recall that in approx. 8 miles from the moment I experienced this elation, I passed by an exit sign for the town of Eupora (yes, I know the spelling is not the same, but close enough...).
Now, the trouble is, I am motoring down the Trace, a parkway with no shoulder - grass grows right up to the edge of the road - so I have to fight through these tears to find a safe place to pull over... The only places with shoulders are exits, exhibits, turn-outs, and bridges. Since bridges are far more plentiful, I pulled over at the first bridge I came to, sat upon it, and documented the moment in my journal. (I took a photo of the location to commemorate the event)
Ten minutes later, I'm pulled over at another bridge and I'm writing in my journal again! This is the essence of what I meant when I decried destination riding and its attendant tunnel-vision riding mentality. Today, I was going to ride, write, reflect, and revel in the experience. The campground would still be there when I arrive (and, lo and behold, it was when I arrived at 6PM)! I noted the irony of the town of Eupora, and jotted down in my journal, "No coincidences!! We make our own reality -- I am the captain of my soul!" Okay, that might be a tad melodramatic, but I was beyond exaltation at this point in time...
I reminded myself that we make our lives what we will them to be, regardless of: Social Status, Perceived Prejudices, History, or Habits... This launched me into another line of thinking which I will politely reserve for the time being.
Another 5-10 miles, and another bridge later (that's three stops within 20 miles for those of you keeping score at home...) and I've been thinking about my students. I activate my phone (I keep it on Airplane Mode most of the time to try and save my battery; I can't charge it when I'm camping) and at the moment in time (no coincidences!) I got a text from Tyler Mulvaney who tells me that he had been in bed and feeling under the weather. He said he read my blog and felt so much better - and he began planning his own trip. This is just one example of the type of feedback I've heard from my students... Thanks, Tyler. Your comments were very timely for me!
I began to think about dating (no, not you, Tyler), but of the online methods I'd tried and the artificial, forced, contrived situations that it creates. For a long time I had told myself, "Do the things you love to do, and you will find others who love the same things that you do. Wouldn't that be a good way to start a relationship?" And I thought about how much I love the blues and that being in Clarksdale was no accident, and... [I don't yet know where and... goes at this point, but I promise to keep you posted]
RULES OF THE ROAD: (Continued)
In a previous post, I had shared a draft of my rules of the road. As I was riding this day, I thought of a few more rules - albeit a little more mundane than those I've already shared...
1. Make sure you pull your rainpants down far enough when you stop by the side of the road to relieve yourself.
2. Always have a bottle of water on hand.
3. Try not get sunscreen in your eyes.
4. Floating leaves are pretty, but they hurt as much as raindrops when they smack you in the face.
5. Bungee cords are worth 10 times their weight in gold (thank you to my son for reminding me that you can never have too many...)
6. To prevent shin contusions, watch out for the low-lying footpegs!!!
The bungee cord comment reminds me of some successful field modifications that I've used to great benefit during my t rip:
A. Bungee cords around the pant cuffs prevent cold air from blowing up the pant legs.
B. Wearing your watch on top of your long sleeve shirt means you can actually see what time it is.
C. A leather jacket secured to the T-Bag (yes, bungee cords) with it's sleeves inverted makes an excellent water bottle holder
D. My nylon laundry bag containing socks and underwear is a fabulous pillow (simply cover with a tee-shirt)
Those are all the ones that come to mind presently, but there are countless decisions made on the road, and some are better than others ;)
Back to Tuesday (Yes, I'm still talking about Tuesday's ride, deal with it!)...
I saw a beautiful vista and I just had to stop and get a photo... It was one of those days, after all. I'd stopped no fewer than 10 times to write, photograph, hike, take a mental health break, etc.
As I pulled over to take the photo, I stopped on the side of the parkway (remember, this means grass unless as noted above). I leaned the bike to the right, so I could throw out the kickstand to the left, aaaaaaand... the bike kept leaning right. It leaned so far that it rolled right over on it's side and as it did so, I swear I heard it whisper, "Take that Bee-atch!" I stood there momentarily, threw down my gloves in disgust and moved into place to lift the great beast. Just as I did so, a gentleman pulled over to help. "Are you okay, buddy?" Yes, I said. I'm getting ready to pick this thing up... How is your back? "Well," he says, "It's pretty jacked up... What do you want me to do?" Just hold the handlebars and steady it when I get it upright (the last thing you want is to get so much momentum going the bike just flops over the other way). Well, after some effort, the bike is erect and my Good Samaritan escapes unharmed.
We exchange pleasantries (I would have included his name here and thanked him, but then we had the following exchange... Tell me if you would have published his moniker.) He tells me he just left a funeral for an old hippie friend he'd known for 40 years. He's got a catch in his voice and a lump in his throat. I tell him I'm sorry and he tells me a little about the funeral... "I'm standing there with my arm around a friend I hadn't seen in several years..." I'm genuinely touched, as he continues... "Yeah, I just texted her and said 'I really wanted to grab your ass!'" Okaaaay... this is not where I envisioned this going, but okay, it's been a long time since he's seen her. Then, "She's divorced, but I'm still married. But my wife is leaving town this Thursday and all the whores I know, you need to plant you flag too deep in concrete, if you know what I mean..." I feigned understanding and started the bike; the moment had clearly taken off in a direction that was somewhere south of 'poignant.' [Later on, I think I deciphered what he meant about 'burying your flagpole in concrete.' I think he meant, you might need to wear 7 or 8 condoms to avoid catching some horrific social disease, whereas his 'friend' was presumably somewhat cleaner, and therefore safer...]
Let's change the subject, please!
I made it to Rocky Point campsite and my neighbor, Bobby, was as helpful as could be. I spent some time with his wife and their 88 year-old traveling companion, a World War II Veteran who had walked a 10K in each of the fifty states (joined by his departed wife). I believe that he learned to do this in Germany, and it is called VolksWalking... More on these lovely folks when I talk about my departure on Wednesday. For now, a hot bubble bath is calling me after 400 gritty miles today. Yes, I said a bubble bath!!!
Tuesday's soundtrack:
I was 'Going to Jackson' again, as I was backtracking down the Trace... (you can't go wrong singing Johnny Cash)
'Crazy Train' - Was Ozzy Osborne insinuating that I was crazy for backtracking some 400 miles just to accompany someone to dinner?
'Never Been to Spain' - Three Dog Night: I think since I knew I was heading for Oklahoma...
I've never been to Spain, but I've been to Oklahoma...
I love you all...
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Okay, I just read my memory jogger from my Memphis posting. I need to cover songs in the head (not to be confused with "Songs in the Key of Life" by the brilliant Stevie Wonder).
"All Things Must Pass" - While I don't know the lyrics, I kept repeating the refrain... All things must pass; all things must pass away
Perhaps this is just a reminder to LIVE. That I will be, as Robin Williams put it in 'Dead Poets Society', worm food someday. I wish I could say that I do live each day to the fullest (Carpe Diem), but I must be honest in admitting that I have spent many a day telling myself, "I'm going to do insert name of important or perhaps mundane task here today." But all I manage to accomplish is listening to music, completing the Sudoku puzzle, and perhaps washing the dishes. This falls squarely under the category of regret. Before I left upstate NY, my brother Danny, who I love, well, like a brother, and I were talking and he was in a philosophical mood. Now, my brother is one of the all time great guys. I have had more fun with him in the course of my lifetime than everyone else I know combined. We've hiked, biked, motorcycled, snowshoed, canoed, kayaked, swam, motorcycled, camped, partied, laughed, cried, road tripped, bone cruised, cross-country skiied, heck, we've even golfed together. In all of those years, in all of those moments, we've talked a lot. (Okay, most of the time, I talk and he listens - he's a lot quieter than me...) But I can probably count on one hand the number of those conversations that have been deeply philosophical. Don't get me wrong - we don't just laugh and argue and talk about stuff, we have great talks - but deeply philosophical conversations are rare. So, he tells me just before I leave, the two things you should not live with are regret and envy. Amen, brother. I am trying... And I love you.
All things must pass; all things must pass away
"American Tune" Paul Simon
Many’s the time I’ve been mistaken
And many times confused
Yes, and I’ve often felt forsaken
And certainly misused
Oh, but I’m all right, I’m all right
I’m just weary to my bones
Still, you don’t expect to be
Bright and bon vivant
So far away from home, so far away from home
I don’t know a soul who’s not been battered
I don’t have a friend who feels at ease
I don’t know a dream that’s not been shattered
Or driven to its knees
Oh, but it’s all right, it’s all right
For lived so well so long
Still, when I think of the road
We’re traveling on
I wonder what went wrong
I can’t help it, I wonder what’s gone wrong
And I dreamed I was dying
And I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly
And looking back down at me
Smiled reassuringly
And I dreamed I was flying
And high above my eyes could clearly see
The Statue of Liberty
Sailing away to sea
And I dreamed I was
I wanted to share all the lyrics with you from this song, because I sing this a lot when I am riding, and I did so on my last cross-country trip in 2002 as well.
As usual, I seem to land on the chorus:
And I dreamed I was dying
And I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly
And looking back down at me
Smiled reassuringly
And I dreamed I was flying
And high above my eyes could clearly see
The Statue of Liberty
When I sing this song, it is not with regret, sorrow, mournfulness, etc. No, it is sung with a smile on my face, and often a tear in my eye; just like the one running down my cheek right now...
I dreamed I was flying... When I am riding down a backroad, and I'm the only person around, the sun is on my face, mother nature is on full display, and the endless road unwinds before me... I feel like I am flying. That my soul rose unexpectedly and was looking back down at me... And life is good :)
I love being on the road. I love being me.
"Dixie Chicken" Little Feat
You'll be my dixie chicken and I'll be your Tennessee man, and we can live together down in Dixieland.
I was singing this song on the way to Memphis last week. I assumed it was because of the opening lyrics to this Lowell George classic... I see the bright lights of Memphis and the Commodore Hotel, but I wonder if there is more to it than that. I have really begun to love the south and could see myself living here. I've never felt like I fit in California, even though I was comfortable with who I'd become after my last CC trip (this will be my new shorthand for Cross-Country trip). When I returned to CA in 2003, I was transformed. I no longer felt compelled to race traffic all over town, to engage in reckless, aggressive driving (I had even semi-retired the dreaded 'dirty look' that many clueless drivers were exposed to over the years). Over the course of the next 10 years, though, something happened. Even as I crowed that I no longer felt compelled to be first in line, aggressive driving, impatience - and 'the look' crept back into my forays on the freeway and even the side streets. (Just ask me about the time I hit a parked bus!!)
IF I do settle back in California again, it will NOT be in the city. I am a country boy at heart. Okay, I don't drive a pickup truck, own a gun, chew tobacco or listen to George Strait, but that don't mean I ain't country.
Which brings me back to the south. I love the people, the pace, the kindness, the wonder, the simplicity (don't misunderstand that word, please - I'm not saying simple-mindedness; I've enjoyed some of the most intelligent, warmest conversations with people here, it's genuine), the music, the food, the people. Yes, I know I said people twice!
A contrast: Riding through Trenton, NJ on my way to Billy's house, I was viewed with distrust, disdain, and disregard. In Mississippi, everyone sees me and waves (okay, not everyone). Yesterday I stopped on my way to Tupelo and was taking a picture of a river. I was on the middle of a bridge and I heard someone yelling at me. This African-American gentleman was coming out of his house and just wanted to wave at me, so he yelled to get my attention!
Now there do appear to be a few downsides to the south. It appears that you have to special order shock absorbers for your car with beefed up driver side shocks. In the collateral count of corpulent corpses to be, Mississippi is the clear winner.
"Please Come to Boston" Dave Loggins
This is an old 70s song about two people who clearly love each other, but they can't seem to get together. The ultimate in "Geographically Undesirable" as we used to hear on that dating show with Chuck Woolery.
"Tupelo Honey" Van Morrison
I think these last two songs refer to someone I met at the Blues festival in Clarksdale. She is warm, funny, beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful, tactile, open, caring, reflective, sweet, southern, sensitive, kind, cute, fun, fit, fabulous, she's as sweet as Tupelo Honey...
Time to go. I'll write again when I can. Still so much more to say and to share.
Much love.
"All Things Must Pass" - While I don't know the lyrics, I kept repeating the refrain... All things must pass; all things must pass away
Perhaps this is just a reminder to LIVE. That I will be, as Robin Williams put it in 'Dead Poets Society', worm food someday. I wish I could say that I do live each day to the fullest (Carpe Diem), but I must be honest in admitting that I have spent many a day telling myself, "I'm going to do insert name of important or perhaps mundane task here today." But all I manage to accomplish is listening to music, completing the Sudoku puzzle, and perhaps washing the dishes. This falls squarely under the category of regret. Before I left upstate NY, my brother Danny, who I love, well, like a brother, and I were talking and he was in a philosophical mood. Now, my brother is one of the all time great guys. I have had more fun with him in the course of my lifetime than everyone else I know combined. We've hiked, biked, motorcycled, snowshoed, canoed, kayaked, swam, motorcycled, camped, partied, laughed, cried, road tripped, bone cruised, cross-country skiied, heck, we've even golfed together. In all of those years, in all of those moments, we've talked a lot. (Okay, most of the time, I talk and he listens - he's a lot quieter than me...) But I can probably count on one hand the number of those conversations that have been deeply philosophical. Don't get me wrong - we don't just laugh and argue and talk about stuff, we have great talks - but deeply philosophical conversations are rare. So, he tells me just before I leave, the two things you should not live with are regret and envy. Amen, brother. I am trying... And I love you.
All things must pass; all things must pass away
"American Tune" Paul Simon
Many’s the time I’ve been mistaken
And many times confused
Yes, and I’ve often felt forsaken
And certainly misused
Oh, but I’m all right, I’m all right
I’m just weary to my bones
Still, you don’t expect to be
Bright and bon vivant
So far away from home, so far away from home
I don’t know a soul who’s not been battered
I don’t have a friend who feels at ease
I don’t know a dream that’s not been shattered
Or driven to its knees
Oh, but it’s all right, it’s all right
For lived so well so long
Still, when I think of the road
We’re traveling on
I wonder what went wrong
I can’t help it, I wonder what’s gone wrong
And I dreamed I was dying
And I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly
And looking back down at me
Smiled reassuringly
And I dreamed I was flying
And high above my eyes could clearly see
The Statue of Liberty
Sailing away to sea
And I dreamed I was
I wanted to share all the lyrics with you from this song, because I sing this a lot when I am riding, and I did so on my last cross-country trip in 2002 as well.
As usual, I seem to land on the chorus:
And I dreamed I was dying
And I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly
And looking back down at me
Smiled reassuringly
And I dreamed I was flying
And high above my eyes could clearly see
The Statue of Liberty
When I sing this song, it is not with regret, sorrow, mournfulness, etc. No, it is sung with a smile on my face, and often a tear in my eye; just like the one running down my cheek right now...
I dreamed I was flying... When I am riding down a backroad, and I'm the only person around, the sun is on my face, mother nature is on full display, and the endless road unwinds before me... I feel like I am flying. That my soul rose unexpectedly and was looking back down at me... And life is good :)
I love being on the road. I love being me.
"Dixie Chicken" Little Feat
You'll be my dixie chicken and I'll be your Tennessee man, and we can live together down in Dixieland.
I was singing this song on the way to Memphis last week. I assumed it was because of the opening lyrics to this Lowell George classic... I see the bright lights of Memphis and the Commodore Hotel, but I wonder if there is more to it than that. I have really begun to love the south and could see myself living here. I've never felt like I fit in California, even though I was comfortable with who I'd become after my last CC trip (this will be my new shorthand for Cross-Country trip). When I returned to CA in 2003, I was transformed. I no longer felt compelled to race traffic all over town, to engage in reckless, aggressive driving (I had even semi-retired the dreaded 'dirty look' that many clueless drivers were exposed to over the years). Over the course of the next 10 years, though, something happened. Even as I crowed that I no longer felt compelled to be first in line, aggressive driving, impatience - and 'the look' crept back into my forays on the freeway and even the side streets. (Just ask me about the time I hit a parked bus!!)
IF I do settle back in California again, it will NOT be in the city. I am a country boy at heart. Okay, I don't drive a pickup truck, own a gun, chew tobacco or listen to George Strait, but that don't mean I ain't country.
Which brings me back to the south. I love the people, the pace, the kindness, the wonder, the simplicity (don't misunderstand that word, please - I'm not saying simple-mindedness; I've enjoyed some of the most intelligent, warmest conversations with people here, it's genuine), the music, the food, the people. Yes, I know I said people twice!
A contrast: Riding through Trenton, NJ on my way to Billy's house, I was viewed with distrust, disdain, and disregard. In Mississippi, everyone sees me and waves (okay, not everyone). Yesterday I stopped on my way to Tupelo and was taking a picture of a river. I was on the middle of a bridge and I heard someone yelling at me. This African-American gentleman was coming out of his house and just wanted to wave at me, so he yelled to get my attention!
Now there do appear to be a few downsides to the south. It appears that you have to special order shock absorbers for your car with beefed up driver side shocks. In the collateral count of corpulent corpses to be, Mississippi is the clear winner.
"Please Come to Boston" Dave Loggins
This is an old 70s song about two people who clearly love each other, but they can't seem to get together. The ultimate in "Geographically Undesirable" as we used to hear on that dating show with Chuck Woolery.
"Tupelo Honey" Van Morrison
I think these last two songs refer to someone I met at the Blues festival in Clarksdale. She is warm, funny, beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful, tactile, open, caring, reflective, sweet, southern, sensitive, kind, cute, fun, fit, fabulous, she's as sweet as Tupelo Honey...
Time to go. I'll write again when I can. Still so much more to say and to share.
Much love.
Frequently, when I'm teaching or just in conversation with someone, I mutter those immortal words, "Where was I?"
Sooooo... Where was I?
While riding, I have started to compile a list of rules (okay, guidelines) to assure - or at least improve the chances of - a good day riding. Here are the eight I've come up with so far:
1. Keep the pen with the journal (seems obvious, I know, but it's hard to take notes in the journal without a writing implement)
2. Shower when you have the opportunity (I don't which nights I'll be camping, etc. so when you're in the hotel, shower at night, shower in the morning, sailors take warning - wait! hat's a different axiom)
3. Be flexible
4. Be open
5. Be yourself
6. Don't fixate on destination!!!! I have violated myself on this rule many times on this trip so far... It kind of looks like this (insert weird flashback music and swirling visual effect here): You wake up in the morning - this is usually a good start - and look at a map (Wait - take a shower first!). While looking at the map, you decide, gee, insert town name here looks like a cool place to spend the night. Hmm, it's only 280 miles away. That's doable. The day then unfolds like this: Get bike ready. Get food. Wait for temperature to rise above 50 degrees. Get on the road. See something cool. Stop and take photos. Pull over to write in journal, take a pee, a mental health break, grab a drink of water, get gas, stretch, read map, etc. See something cool. Go down dirt road, ride through waterfall, shoot and upload videos, check in on Facebook. Hmmm... What is absent in all this - oh, yeah - RIDING! After all the distractions and singing and writing and photographing, etc. I've gone 61.4 miles and it's 1PM. Uh oh, insert town name here is still 220 miles away and now I've got to bust my ass to get there by a reasonable time. BTW, reasonable time varies by season, temperature, direction of travel, etc. I'm currently riding westerly directly into a setting sun, and the fall has proven to be very brisk since the jet stream decided to get lazy and sag down over the whole of the central US. That makes reasonable time somewhere close to 6:17:42PM (that's approximate, of course). So, what does the afternoon ride look like? Hanging on for dear life and pounding the throttle, driving past cool stuff and creative photo ops. And the whole time the little voice inside my head is saying, go back, that would be a cool photo, detour, etc.
Whew... I typed that all in one breath (not!) Now, let's relax, take a deep breath, and look at a trip the way it should be conducted (insert obnoxiously upbeat soundtrack here replete with annoying voiceover):
Get up, take a shower, grab food, look at map, decide on general direction of travel for the day, including the first few routes, get on bike, go. Stop as often as necessary. Repeat. Find place to crash. More deep breaths.
7. Don't pull over for Mental Health Breaks or Map Checks on active dirt roads (I believe I may have addressed this in a previous post, so we will move on without further commercial interruption).
8. Be specific when memorizing directions. Internalizing "take Route 9 North, then 9W" is good, but, "take Route 9 North approx. 10 miles, then pick up 9W north of Oxford" is even better. This way, when my brain has traveled off to faraway places and I've stopped reading road signs (I mean, I see "Bridge may ice before roadway in cold conditions" in my sleep!), I won't have to ask myself, "Self, did you see the intersection for 9W?" Alright mister, pull it on over, get out that map, berate yourself for zoning out, put away map, lather, rinse, repeat... No, chances are that I won't entirely miss the city of Oxford, or at least I'm less likely to do that than to miss a road sign.
Those are the rules as they are currently constituted. They are subject to revision, removal, renovation, and complete disregard.
A health update (physical, not mental):
My surgically repaired left thumb is aching due to cold weather.
My right shoulder throbs with the effects of tendinitis.
I seem to be afflicted with allergies (stuffy nose and a weird rash on my arms, torso, and - spoiler alert! those of you who are 'sensitive' may want to skip this part - my buttocks)
My nose is starting to peel, which would be okay if that meant my nose was actually getting smaller, but I seem to be getting one of those W.C. Fields bulbous numbers instead.
Hair is growing out of my ears (I have no idea what that has to do with anything, other than, perhaps, W.C. Fields).
I need a haircut.
Sooooo... Where was I?
While riding, I have started to compile a list of rules (okay, guidelines) to assure - or at least improve the chances of - a good day riding. Here are the eight I've come up with so far:
1. Keep the pen with the journal (seems obvious, I know, but it's hard to take notes in the journal without a writing implement)
2. Shower when you have the opportunity (I don't which nights I'll be camping, etc. so when you're in the hotel, shower at night, shower in the morning, sailors take warning - wait! hat's a different axiom)
3. Be flexible
4. Be open
5. Be yourself
6. Don't fixate on destination!!!! I have violated myself on this rule many times on this trip so far... It kind of looks like this (insert weird flashback music and swirling visual effect here): You wake up in the morning - this is usually a good start - and look at a map (Wait - take a shower first!). While looking at the map, you decide, gee, insert town name here looks like a cool place to spend the night. Hmm, it's only 280 miles away. That's doable. The day then unfolds like this: Get bike ready. Get food. Wait for temperature to rise above 50 degrees. Get on the road. See something cool. Stop and take photos. Pull over to write in journal, take a pee, a mental health break, grab a drink of water, get gas, stretch, read map, etc. See something cool. Go down dirt road, ride through waterfall, shoot and upload videos, check in on Facebook. Hmmm... What is absent in all this - oh, yeah - RIDING! After all the distractions and singing and writing and photographing, etc. I've gone 61.4 miles and it's 1PM. Uh oh, insert town name here is still 220 miles away and now I've got to bust my ass to get there by a reasonable time. BTW, reasonable time varies by season, temperature, direction of travel, etc. I'm currently riding westerly directly into a setting sun, and the fall has proven to be very brisk since the jet stream decided to get lazy and sag down over the whole of the central US. That makes reasonable time somewhere close to 6:17:42PM (that's approximate, of course). So, what does the afternoon ride look like? Hanging on for dear life and pounding the throttle, driving past cool stuff and creative photo ops. And the whole time the little voice inside my head is saying, go back, that would be a cool photo, detour, etc.
Whew... I typed that all in one breath (not!) Now, let's relax, take a deep breath, and look at a trip the way it should be conducted (insert obnoxiously upbeat soundtrack here replete with annoying voiceover):
Get up, take a shower, grab food, look at map, decide on general direction of travel for the day, including the first few routes, get on bike, go. Stop as often as necessary. Repeat. Find place to crash. More deep breaths.
7. Don't pull over for Mental Health Breaks or Map Checks on active dirt roads (I believe I may have addressed this in a previous post, so we will move on without further commercial interruption).
8. Be specific when memorizing directions. Internalizing "take Route 9 North, then 9W" is good, but, "take Route 9 North approx. 10 miles, then pick up 9W north of Oxford" is even better. This way, when my brain has traveled off to faraway places and I've stopped reading road signs (I mean, I see "Bridge may ice before roadway in cold conditions" in my sleep!), I won't have to ask myself, "Self, did you see the intersection for 9W?" Alright mister, pull it on over, get out that map, berate yourself for zoning out, put away map, lather, rinse, repeat... No, chances are that I won't entirely miss the city of Oxford, or at least I'm less likely to do that than to miss a road sign.
Those are the rules as they are currently constituted. They are subject to revision, removal, renovation, and complete disregard.
A health update (physical, not mental):
My surgically repaired left thumb is aching due to cold weather.
My right shoulder throbs with the effects of tendinitis.
I seem to be afflicted with allergies (stuffy nose and a weird rash on my arms, torso, and - spoiler alert! those of you who are 'sensitive' may want to skip this part - my buttocks)
My nose is starting to peel, which would be okay if that meant my nose was actually getting smaller, but I seem to be getting one of those W.C. Fields bulbous numbers instead.
Hair is growing out of my ears (I have no idea what that has to do with anything, other than, perhaps, W.C. Fields).
I need a haircut.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Okay,. so I'm not so smart... it just took me 10 minutes to find the 'create new post' icon. It's a big, giant orange pencil. Duh.
Soooo.... it's almost 9AM on Saturday morning and I'm typing this in the lobby of my hotel in Memphis. I'm staying at the Super 8 about 2 miles from downtown. More on that later (but don't hold me to that).
Let's start with last night. (I'm proofing this now, and I didn't even come close to starting with last night!) I have been trying hard to write this chronologically so that people (like future social scientists and archaeologists can trace my extremely non-linear road (and off road) ramblings. For those of you who are also following along on Facebook, I hope you have enjoyed the videos. And, yes, I am crazy. If I weren't, would I be out on the road for 8000 plus miles (and counting) seeking sanity? Perhaps sanity can be found in my kitchen cupboard? Oh, wait, I don't have a cupboard... or a kitchen... or a bathroom... or a bed...
It did strike me at one point this week that I am officially homeless. I don't have a place to call my own. It adds an element of uncertainty to my return trip (return to where?), but I haven't dwelt on it too much otherwise...
Since I last updated you:
I camped out on St. George's Island State Park on the Florida panhandle. (I'd hoped to pay only a modest fee for camping on state land, but it was $26.16!!!! Ouch! For another 15 bucks, I could stay at a Motel 6, after all, they left the light on for me (okay, couldn't resist) :)
Riding along the Gulf of Mexico was beautiful and I didn't hit any rain. I rode down a dirt road in a wildlife preserve - great 'mental health break' stop!!! I posted a video on Facebook...
Along about 5PM, it was time to find a place to hunker down for the night. I had read about a campground in Carrabelle FL, but I went to the wrong one and it was an RV only joint with all concrete slabs. I backtracked to an abandoned motel I'd seen on a small promontory about 10 miles back. I thought I could pull the bike in behind the buildings and hide it, then pitch my little tent down by the gulf undetected. Well... this is where things went horribly wrong. I realized I was still visible from the road, so I pulled the bike up as far as I could behind one of the dilapidated structures. In doing so, I got about a thousand small prickers on me from what looked like a small daisy bush. (It's 4 days later, and I'm still finding them on my clothes...)
Well, I started to unpack; dragged out my tent and sleeping bag; and came to the sudden realization that this site just wouldn't work. Argh. It was 6PM and I wasn't yet settled for the night :( Not good. I did a quick internet search on my phone and found St. George's Island State Park. I called and (as I was to find out subsequently, the most attractive Park Ranger I had ever met) said they had plenty of capacity, as long as I got there by 7:30. I looked at my watch and thought, I've got about 40 miles to cover in 90 minutes... No problem. Uh oh.
Repacked the bike. Took off as many of those friggin prickers as I could given the circumstances. Then, started to back the bike out the way I'd pulled it in. Now, fully loaded, my bike weighs about 700 pounds. There is no reverse. Put my fat ass on it, and you're just shy of a half ton of inert mass. To back up a motorcycle, sometimes it's best to use the engine to create forward movement, then use this momentum to rock the bike back in the opposite direction. Since I had pulled the bike into high weeds near the old building, I had very little room to maneuver. Back and forth I rocked - until I realized I was only spinning my wheel in a huge rut I'd created. Ugh. I was able to get off the bike and stand there without touching the bike and it stood there all by itself, buried up to the axles! Not good. Not good at all. Hmm... Clock is ticking. I'm by myself. I'm sweating, swearing, sweltering, swatting flies, and STUCK. I start to dig out the rear tire. Of course, as I do so, the weight of the bike causes it to list to one side. I'm holding the bike with one hand, and digging with my foot. I finally create a rut big enough so that I can roll back... A whopping 15 inches! I look at my watch, and time is ticking away. It's about 6:20 and I know that much of the ride to the state park is posted at low speeds (I found out later 25MPH and 15MPH). Panic is beginning to set in. I decide that if I can turn the wheel, clear the building, get enough purchase in the loose sand with my rear wheel, I might be able to ride forward out of this predicament. I managed to do just that, while riding through the pricker bushes - of course! #self-inflicted wounds....
After my clean-scrubbed, extremely cute, very sweet (married) ranger checked me in, I headed down the peninsula (okay, I know it's an island - I'd already crossed the bridge from the mainland, and now I'm going down a peninsula on the far eastern end of the island). I find the campsite in the gloaming - man, I wish I had some prescription motorcycle goggles; I miss so many turns when squinting doesn't work - and I get down to business. I'm rushing, it's humid, it's warm, and I'm fresh meat for all those mosquitoes.
FLASHBACK TO TWO DECADES AGO: My brother, Brian, and I head to Yosemite from San Francisco, leaving Foster City at 5:15PM. After fighting through rush hour traffic on the San Mateo bridge, we arrive at Yosemite in the dark... The rangers show us pictures of bear damage, warn us of bears, admonish us not to leave food in the car, cabin, etc. They were very thorough in their cautions.
RETURN FROM FLASHBACK: My lovely park ranger warned me about mosquitoes and, sure enough, there were signs and pictures of mosquitoes, and warnings about all the diseases you could get from mosquitoes!!! Mosquitoes were certainly the bears of St. George's Island State Park (only they actually bit me, unlike all the rocks my brother and I thought were bears in our hysterical paranoia when we insisted on hiking in the dark with no flashlights at Yosemite).
Non sequitur warning: I actually typed this next part before describing my camping experience noted in number 1 above... I am now tired of typing and losing my focus. I'm going to leave you now, but don't go until you read this next part, okay?
I left Biloxi and went Northwest (NW) to Jackson, MS. (See if you can guess what Johnny Cash song I was singing out loud during this leg of the trip?) Then, I got on the Natchez Trace and rode NE. So where was I going? Memphis - which is pretty much due North of Biloxi (Quick Geography quiz: What foreign country lies due south of Detroit, MI? - First person to submit the correct answer as a reply to this blog wins a fabulous prize! [shameless bid to increase blog responses])
The Natchez Trace is a single lane scenic byway that runs from Natchez, in the southwestern corner of MS, to Nashville, TN. The speed limit is 50MPH, which is right in my wheelhouse! I love putting along at 50, watching the trees, the wildlife, the clouds, the grass, the water, the ROAD! Wake up, and pay attention to BUSINESS... When you are riding 7-8 hours a day for days on end, it's not hard to let your focus wander. Speaking of wandering focus :)
It was a pretty uneventful ride, but a great evening. I found a free campsite along the trace (with the help of my friend, Jim, at the AAA in Jackson, MS - he was very enthusiastic about my trip!). I set up camp and just as I was doing so, Jesse pulled in on his Honda Shadow - the same model my son used to own [how I miss riding my my son, I hope we can do it again someday]- and I helped him set up his brand-new tent. (His old tent opened up while riding down the Thruway in Upstate NY - that's not ideal) Jesse is a young school teacher from Windsor, Ontario, Canada who was teaching in the Yukon Territory. He grabbed a bike in Halifax, Nova Scotia, headed to New Orleans by way of friends, couch surfing, and camping. (He said he had two out of three good experiences using couchsurfing.com; I may check it out yet as funds continue to dwindle) Next arrivals in a motor home were Jim and Patty, retired educators from Florida. They had attended a wedding in New Orleans and were meandering back to St. Augustine, FL. Irony alert: They had also 'camped' on St. Georges Island on the Florida panhandle - home of 70 gazillion mosquitoes!
I had such a nice evening visiting with these fellow teachers, camping, sleeping in my pajamas, listening to mother nature - including a nearby barn owl. I did a much better job crafting my pillow than I had done on the Gulf. (I have a mesh laundry bag filled with my socks and underwear, do that I don't have to fish around in my bag for them... I use this bag and stuff it with rolled up shirts, etc. then cover the nylon mesh with a T-shirt; voila! Instant pillow!) It was one of my best nights on the road to date.
The morning dawned crisp, clear, and hungry. Jesse and I broke camp by 8:15 and headed out for breakfast after saying our goodbyes to Jim and Patty. Good times.
After breakfast with Jesse in Mathiston, MS, I backtracked down the Trace, passing Jim and Patty as they departed the campgrounds heading northeast. I took Route 9 and headed north.
I pulled over to do a map check and to have a 'mental health break' on a dirt road in Bellafontaine, MS. NOTE TO SELF: DON"T PULL OVER ON ACTIVE DIRT ROADS!!! Not one, not two, but three different jacklegs went flying by me... Uh, dude... dirt road... guy with maps spread out and nice motorcycle... could I get a courtesy 10 or 20 MPH reduction? Uh, no? Okay, be that way... Karma is a bitch!!!!
Anyhoo... while I was pulled over by the side of this dirt road, I noticed a few things. One was a jawbone laying on the ground. I'm not sure, it could have been canine, coyote, maybe something a little bigger... The second was some beautiful flowers. I tried to take some artistic shots, but I prolly failed. Finally, just as I was leaving, a beautiful butterfly landed on my boot. I took several pictures and was moving gingerly so as not to spook it... every time i tried to snap a shot with his wings open, all I got was wings closed. Couldn't time the exposure properly. I started to give up and was walking toward my freshly dusted bike (I felt like Cary Grant in North by Northwest!) when the butterfly moved up onto my shin. He wouldn't let go! Maybe he was trying to tell me something. We got in the rhythm together and I got several good photos of him. Later, while unpacking my saddle bag in Memphis, I found a dead butterfly... Not that same one, but... (Cue the Twilight Zone music...)
IN THE INTEREST OF FULL DISCLOSURE, THESE ARE THE LAST WORDS I AM TYPING IN THE BLOG TODAY. I've still got so much more to tell you, but now I've gotta go live :)
Much love from the road <3
(Memory jogger for future posting: Songs in the head, health update, rules for the road I've created in my journal, random observations about the South, and fun Memphis times)
Soooo.... it's almost 9AM on Saturday morning and I'm typing this in the lobby of my hotel in Memphis. I'm staying at the Super 8 about 2 miles from downtown. More on that later (but don't hold me to that).
Let's start with last night. (I'm proofing this now, and I didn't even come close to starting with last night!) I have been trying hard to write this chronologically so that people (like future social scientists and archaeologists can trace my extremely non-linear road (and off road) ramblings. For those of you who are also following along on Facebook, I hope you have enjoyed the videos. And, yes, I am crazy. If I weren't, would I be out on the road for 8000 plus miles (and counting) seeking sanity? Perhaps sanity can be found in my kitchen cupboard? Oh, wait, I don't have a cupboard... or a kitchen... or a bathroom... or a bed...
It did strike me at one point this week that I am officially homeless. I don't have a place to call my own. It adds an element of uncertainty to my return trip (return to where?), but I haven't dwelt on it too much otherwise...
Since I last updated you:
I camped out on St. George's Island State Park on the Florida panhandle. (I'd hoped to pay only a modest fee for camping on state land, but it was $26.16!!!! Ouch! For another 15 bucks, I could stay at a Motel 6, after all, they left the light on for me (okay, couldn't resist) :)
Riding along the Gulf of Mexico was beautiful and I didn't hit any rain. I rode down a dirt road in a wildlife preserve - great 'mental health break' stop!!! I posted a video on Facebook...
Along about 5PM, it was time to find a place to hunker down for the night. I had read about a campground in Carrabelle FL, but I went to the wrong one and it was an RV only joint with all concrete slabs. I backtracked to an abandoned motel I'd seen on a small promontory about 10 miles back. I thought I could pull the bike in behind the buildings and hide it, then pitch my little tent down by the gulf undetected. Well... this is where things went horribly wrong. I realized I was still visible from the road, so I pulled the bike up as far as I could behind one of the dilapidated structures. In doing so, I got about a thousand small prickers on me from what looked like a small daisy bush. (It's 4 days later, and I'm still finding them on my clothes...)
Well, I started to unpack; dragged out my tent and sleeping bag; and came to the sudden realization that this site just wouldn't work. Argh. It was 6PM and I wasn't yet settled for the night :( Not good. I did a quick internet search on my phone and found St. George's Island State Park. I called and (as I was to find out subsequently, the most attractive Park Ranger I had ever met) said they had plenty of capacity, as long as I got there by 7:30. I looked at my watch and thought, I've got about 40 miles to cover in 90 minutes... No problem. Uh oh.
Repacked the bike. Took off as many of those friggin prickers as I could given the circumstances. Then, started to back the bike out the way I'd pulled it in. Now, fully loaded, my bike weighs about 700 pounds. There is no reverse. Put my fat ass on it, and you're just shy of a half ton of inert mass. To back up a motorcycle, sometimes it's best to use the engine to create forward movement, then use this momentum to rock the bike back in the opposite direction. Since I had pulled the bike into high weeds near the old building, I had very little room to maneuver. Back and forth I rocked - until I realized I was only spinning my wheel in a huge rut I'd created. Ugh. I was able to get off the bike and stand there without touching the bike and it stood there all by itself, buried up to the axles! Not good. Not good at all. Hmm... Clock is ticking. I'm by myself. I'm sweating, swearing, sweltering, swatting flies, and STUCK. I start to dig out the rear tire. Of course, as I do so, the weight of the bike causes it to list to one side. I'm holding the bike with one hand, and digging with my foot. I finally create a rut big enough so that I can roll back... A whopping 15 inches! I look at my watch, and time is ticking away. It's about 6:20 and I know that much of the ride to the state park is posted at low speeds (I found out later 25MPH and 15MPH). Panic is beginning to set in. I decide that if I can turn the wheel, clear the building, get enough purchase in the loose sand with my rear wheel, I might be able to ride forward out of this predicament. I managed to do just that, while riding through the pricker bushes - of course! #self-inflicted wounds....
After my clean-scrubbed, extremely cute, very sweet (married) ranger checked me in, I headed down the peninsula (okay, I know it's an island - I'd already crossed the bridge from the mainland, and now I'm going down a peninsula on the far eastern end of the island). I find the campsite in the gloaming - man, I wish I had some prescription motorcycle goggles; I miss so many turns when squinting doesn't work - and I get down to business. I'm rushing, it's humid, it's warm, and I'm fresh meat for all those mosquitoes.
FLASHBACK TO TWO DECADES AGO: My brother, Brian, and I head to Yosemite from San Francisco, leaving Foster City at 5:15PM. After fighting through rush hour traffic on the San Mateo bridge, we arrive at Yosemite in the dark... The rangers show us pictures of bear damage, warn us of bears, admonish us not to leave food in the car, cabin, etc. They were very thorough in their cautions.
RETURN FROM FLASHBACK: My lovely park ranger warned me about mosquitoes and, sure enough, there were signs and pictures of mosquitoes, and warnings about all the diseases you could get from mosquitoes!!! Mosquitoes were certainly the bears of St. George's Island State Park (only they actually bit me, unlike all the rocks my brother and I thought were bears in our hysterical paranoia when we insisted on hiking in the dark with no flashlights at Yosemite).
Non sequitur warning: I actually typed this next part before describing my camping experience noted in number 1 above... I am now tired of typing and losing my focus. I'm going to leave you now, but don't go until you read this next part, okay?
I left Biloxi and went Northwest (NW) to Jackson, MS. (See if you can guess what Johnny Cash song I was singing out loud during this leg of the trip?) Then, I got on the Natchez Trace and rode NE. So where was I going? Memphis - which is pretty much due North of Biloxi (Quick Geography quiz: What foreign country lies due south of Detroit, MI? - First person to submit the correct answer as a reply to this blog wins a fabulous prize! [shameless bid to increase blog responses])
The Natchez Trace is a single lane scenic byway that runs from Natchez, in the southwestern corner of MS, to Nashville, TN. The speed limit is 50MPH, which is right in my wheelhouse! I love putting along at 50, watching the trees, the wildlife, the clouds, the grass, the water, the ROAD! Wake up, and pay attention to BUSINESS... When you are riding 7-8 hours a day for days on end, it's not hard to let your focus wander. Speaking of wandering focus :)
It was a pretty uneventful ride, but a great evening. I found a free campsite along the trace (with the help of my friend, Jim, at the AAA in Jackson, MS - he was very enthusiastic about my trip!). I set up camp and just as I was doing so, Jesse pulled in on his Honda Shadow - the same model my son used to own [how I miss riding my my son, I hope we can do it again someday]- and I helped him set up his brand-new tent. (His old tent opened up while riding down the Thruway in Upstate NY - that's not ideal) Jesse is a young school teacher from Windsor, Ontario, Canada who was teaching in the Yukon Territory. He grabbed a bike in Halifax, Nova Scotia, headed to New Orleans by way of friends, couch surfing, and camping. (He said he had two out of three good experiences using couchsurfing.com; I may check it out yet as funds continue to dwindle) Next arrivals in a motor home were Jim and Patty, retired educators from Florida. They had attended a wedding in New Orleans and were meandering back to St. Augustine, FL. Irony alert: They had also 'camped' on St. Georges Island on the Florida panhandle - home of 70 gazillion mosquitoes!
I had such a nice evening visiting with these fellow teachers, camping, sleeping in my pajamas, listening to mother nature - including a nearby barn owl. I did a much better job crafting my pillow than I had done on the Gulf. (I have a mesh laundry bag filled with my socks and underwear, do that I don't have to fish around in my bag for them... I use this bag and stuff it with rolled up shirts, etc. then cover the nylon mesh with a T-shirt; voila! Instant pillow!) It was one of my best nights on the road to date.
The morning dawned crisp, clear, and hungry. Jesse and I broke camp by 8:15 and headed out for breakfast after saying our goodbyes to Jim and Patty. Good times.
After breakfast with Jesse in Mathiston, MS, I backtracked down the Trace, passing Jim and Patty as they departed the campgrounds heading northeast. I took Route 9 and headed north.
I pulled over to do a map check and to have a 'mental health break' on a dirt road in Bellafontaine, MS. NOTE TO SELF: DON"T PULL OVER ON ACTIVE DIRT ROADS!!! Not one, not two, but three different jacklegs went flying by me... Uh, dude... dirt road... guy with maps spread out and nice motorcycle... could I get a courtesy 10 or 20 MPH reduction? Uh, no? Okay, be that way... Karma is a bitch!!!!
Anyhoo... while I was pulled over by the side of this dirt road, I noticed a few things. One was a jawbone laying on the ground. I'm not sure, it could have been canine, coyote, maybe something a little bigger... The second was some beautiful flowers. I tried to take some artistic shots, but I prolly failed. Finally, just as I was leaving, a beautiful butterfly landed on my boot. I took several pictures and was moving gingerly so as not to spook it... every time i tried to snap a shot with his wings open, all I got was wings closed. Couldn't time the exposure properly. I started to give up and was walking toward my freshly dusted bike (I felt like Cary Grant in North by Northwest!) when the butterfly moved up onto my shin. He wouldn't let go! Maybe he was trying to tell me something. We got in the rhythm together and I got several good photos of him. Later, while unpacking my saddle bag in Memphis, I found a dead butterfly... Not that same one, but... (Cue the Twilight Zone music...)
IN THE INTEREST OF FULL DISCLOSURE, THESE ARE THE LAST WORDS I AM TYPING IN THE BLOG TODAY. I've still got so much more to tell you, but now I've gotta go live :)
Much love from the road <3
(Memory jogger for future posting: Songs in the head, health update, rules for the road I've created in my journal, random observations about the South, and fun Memphis times)
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
October 1, 2012
Ironies and coincidences (if there be such a thing...) abound. I stopped at a Starbucks in Brunswick, GA to get a coffee and a bite to eat. A couple of really weird things happened to me there... First, I used a gift card that I had gotten last Christmas from one of my students, Sam Moore. To be fair, many of my students gave me gift cards for coffee - both Starbux and CBTL, but this particular card has Sam's signature on it and a note that says, "Hope you have a wonderful happy break!" (Did I mention I love my students?)
I ordered my usual, which is a Grande Soy Hazelnut Latte (stop snickering!), and a Cinnamon Swirl Coffee Cake. I handed the barista my card and waited for her to tell me that the card does not have a sufficient balance to cover the purchase. (Why am I forever carrying cards with no balance on them in my wallet?) She paused, and I had my wallet open; poised to cover the inevitable shortfall... She looked puzzled, handed me the receipt, and we both reacted the same way... The card covered exactly the balance owed of $7.31 and not a penny more. The remaining balance was ZERO. She said, "That never happens. I had to look twice at that." I have no idea what this means, but I wonder if it's part of a zero sum gain in energy between teacher and student? If you recall in my last post, I mentioned that I feel like I put out more energy in my classes than I expect students to spend in return. Clearly, I'm not the kind of person or teacher who would be comfortable asking students to kill themselves to excel in my class, but I am killing MYSELF trying to help them learn... Like the Starbucks transaction, shouldn't their be an equilibrium in this equation?
I am still sorting through this and reading the Celestine Prophecy and it's focus on the give-and-take of energy from one person to the other, so this is a work in process. Hey, I've got another 4000 miles to go to figure it out (and a lifetime after the trip...).
Today's song was "All Things Must Pass" by George Harrison. I really don't know the lyrics; I just kept repeating the refrain, "All things must pass; all things must pass away..."
Perhaps I was just reminding myself of my own mortality?
Very tired now. Riding. Eating. Drinking. Blogging. I'll leave you with one final set of observations from the road:
- South Carolina had the most people riding in the bed of pickup trucks.
- Florida panhandle area had the most people hanging out in front of gas stations
Not sure what any of that means, nor I am trying to figure it out... All things must pass....
Good night, all.
Ironies and coincidences (if there be such a thing...) abound. I stopped at a Starbucks in Brunswick, GA to get a coffee and a bite to eat. A couple of really weird things happened to me there... First, I used a gift card that I had gotten last Christmas from one of my students, Sam Moore. To be fair, many of my students gave me gift cards for coffee - both Starbux and CBTL, but this particular card has Sam's signature on it and a note that says, "Hope you have a wonderful happy break!" (Did I mention I love my students?)
I ordered my usual, which is a Grande Soy Hazelnut Latte (stop snickering!), and a Cinnamon Swirl Coffee Cake. I handed the barista my card and waited for her to tell me that the card does not have a sufficient balance to cover the purchase. (Why am I forever carrying cards with no balance on them in my wallet?) She paused, and I had my wallet open; poised to cover the inevitable shortfall... She looked puzzled, handed me the receipt, and we both reacted the same way... The card covered exactly the balance owed of $7.31 and not a penny more. The remaining balance was ZERO. She said, "That never happens. I had to look twice at that." I have no idea what this means, but I wonder if it's part of a zero sum gain in energy between teacher and student? If you recall in my last post, I mentioned that I feel like I put out more energy in my classes than I expect students to spend in return. Clearly, I'm not the kind of person or teacher who would be comfortable asking students to kill themselves to excel in my class, but I am killing MYSELF trying to help them learn... Like the Starbucks transaction, shouldn't their be an equilibrium in this equation?
I am still sorting through this and reading the Celestine Prophecy and it's focus on the give-and-take of energy from one person to the other, so this is a work in process. Hey, I've got another 4000 miles to go to figure it out (and a lifetime after the trip...).
Today's song was "All Things Must Pass" by George Harrison. I really don't know the lyrics; I just kept repeating the refrain, "All things must pass; all things must pass away..."
Perhaps I was just reminding myself of my own mortality?
Very tired now. Riding. Eating. Drinking. Blogging. I'll leave you with one final set of observations from the road:
- South Carolina had the most people riding in the bed of pickup trucks.
- Florida panhandle area had the most people hanging out in front of gas stations
Not sure what any of that means, nor I am trying to figure it out... All things must pass....
Good night, all.
September 30, 2012
Had to pry myself away from Larry and Tina Gartz. What awesome friends! I enjoyed spending time with them just outside of Wilmington, NC. Larry and I played golf and I think I shot a gazillion - or maybe it was 95. Tina (Elizabeth) turned me on to an excellent book called "The Celestine Prophecy." This trip is all about spiritual awakening and Tina cleared played a role in this process. I found a copy of the book in paperback at a store in Daytona Beach and I am reading a chapter a day (more or less). MUCH MORE ON THE BOOK LATER... PS - thank you, Tina!!!
I headed south from Leland, NC, headed for Savannah, GA. Unfortunately, mother nature had other plans and I ended up in a Super 8 Motel in Yemassee, SC, dodging raindrops and watching the US blow another Ryder Cup!!!! WTF!!!! I was reminded of a couple of things as I made my way south through the rain:
45MPH - A little rain in the face, no problem
60MPH - A little rain feels like a bunch of stinging needles
75MPH - A little rain feels like getting slapped in the face with a blanket made of nails!!!!
As I ride, there is usually a soundtrack for the day... Remember, I've got no stereo, no iPod, no MP3 player, etc. Whatever song comes to mind, I sing. When I say I sing it, I mean out loud as if no one were around and no one could see me - I mean I belt it out! On Sunday, that song was an old favorite of mine - Bob Seger's "Turn the Page" is a classic song of life on the road... (Lyrics in italics)
Now, remember, I am reading this book that I started at my Friend Tina's house, and one of the tenets of the book is that we are surrounded by coincidences. As we learn, these coincidences happen for a reason... I cannot control these events, any more than I can control the songs that come into my head. For the uninitiated, here are the lyrics (as I sang them - they could be off just a little bit...) along with my thoughts on the salient meaning for me:
On a long lonesome highway, East of Omaha
You can listen to the engine moanin out it's one lone song
And you think about the woman, or the girl you knew the night before
.... Yes, I think about the woman.... When I became single again a few years ago, I went to reconnect with an old friend, Mandy. She told me as a single man that I would be - her words, not mine - a 'hot commodity.' Remember, I was coming off my second failed marriage and I don't feel like a hot anything, except maybe a steaming pile of horse dung. Mandy, however knew better than I...
Yes, I am thinking about the woman. I am thinking about where I am going next, relationship-wise... During my period of singlehood, I have had the good fortune of getting to know some very classy, beautiful, desirable women... If I were a Lothario or a lover of lesser scruples, I am certain I could have taken advantage of these kindnesses... I, for what it is worth, seem to be incapable of this kind of behavior. When I love, I love passionately and deeply, and if I don't feel these things... well, cheap thrills just don't do it for me. In the meantime, I think about the woman....
But your thoughts will still be wandering
... Oh, my God, I am nothing but wandering thoughts - have you read this blog?
The way they always do,
When you're riding 16 hours and there's nothing much to do
You don 't feel much like ridin, you just wish the trip was through
... There are days I do wish that the trip was through, but I am happy out here on the road. I am living, making my own decisions, living with the consequences of those decisions, gathering experiences, thinking, exulting, LIVING!!!
REFRAIN - I'm going to save the refrain for last.
You walk into a restaurant, strung out from the road
And you feel the eyes upon you as you're shaking off the cold
You pretend it doesn't bother you, but you just want to explode.
... I do feel the eyes upon me. I feel as if I am always being judged; not necessarily by strangers in a restaurant, but employers, principals, students, and anyone who sees me on the dance floor. Why do I care so damn much about what these people think!??! As I said previously, I LIKE who I am... Why can't I just be confident in that fact and let everything else go like water off a duck's back? [I thought very long and very hard about this question as I rode... In the end, I am my mother's son - she is always aiming to please and I am always aiming to not disappoint, to rile, to create conflict... I am always about trying to keep the peace. This has cost me dearly in my life, especially my professional life... MORE after the refrain...]
Most times you can't hear 'em talk, other times you can
All the same old cliches, is that a woman or a man
And you always seem outnumbered, you don't dare make a stand.
... There we go again... Why not just make a stand? Make a decision, stand my ground, support my position - why so much equivocation????
Out there in the spotlight you're a million miles away
Every ounce of energy you try to give away
As the sweat pours out your body like the music that you play
... As a teacher, I relish the spotlight. I love being on stage and I feel like each class period is a performance. I definitely ascribe (subscribe?) to the theory that you cannot teach anyone anything until you have their attention - hence the 'performance.' Unfortunately, as Bob points out so eloquently, every ounce of energy you try to give away - teachers, can I get an 'AMEN?' I am so drained each and every day. I know I am doing something wrong here, and it is something I need to improve as an educator - I have to put some of the heavy lifting onto the students' shoulders!!! I feel like I am trying to do too much. Too much lecture, too much modifying, too much giving, too much leniency. IF I AM TO CONTINUE AS A TEACHER, I NEED TO LEARN HOW TO MANAGE MY ENERGY AND THE "EFFORT BALANCE" BETTER - MORE STUDENT EFFORT... I make it too easy, I fear.... Why? I think it goes back to not wanting conflict. But rather than saving me energy by not engaging in conflict, it is costing me energy in finding ways to avoid it...
Later in the evening as you lie awake in bed
With echoes of the amplifier ringing in your head
You smoke the days last cigarette, remembering what she said.
Well, I don't smoke cigarettes, but I can recall many a night I lay awake in bed agonizing over something I'd heard, said, not said, written, not written, should have said, should have written, should have ignored, etc., etc. You get the picture.... Which leads me to the REFRAIN:
Here I am on the road again
Here I am up on the stage
Here I am playing the star again
Here I go, turn the page...
TURN THE PAGE INDEED!!!! I have to learn to LET IT GO! Whatever it is LET IT GO! It does no good to invest so much energy in any negative comments... Why do I let them weigh me down? Why do I let them rule my mood; my actions? WHY, INDEED.
It was a productive day on the bike. Raindrops notwithstanding. Thank you, Bob Seger. From now on, I will try to turn the page...
Much love, everyone. THANK YOU for the wonderful feedback!!!
Had to pry myself away from Larry and Tina Gartz. What awesome friends! I enjoyed spending time with them just outside of Wilmington, NC. Larry and I played golf and I think I shot a gazillion - or maybe it was 95. Tina (Elizabeth) turned me on to an excellent book called "The Celestine Prophecy." This trip is all about spiritual awakening and Tina cleared played a role in this process. I found a copy of the book in paperback at a store in Daytona Beach and I am reading a chapter a day (more or less). MUCH MORE ON THE BOOK LATER... PS - thank you, Tina!!!
I headed south from Leland, NC, headed for Savannah, GA. Unfortunately, mother nature had other plans and I ended up in a Super 8 Motel in Yemassee, SC, dodging raindrops and watching the US blow another Ryder Cup!!!! WTF!!!! I was reminded of a couple of things as I made my way south through the rain:
45MPH - A little rain in the face, no problem
60MPH - A little rain feels like a bunch of stinging needles
75MPH - A little rain feels like getting slapped in the face with a blanket made of nails!!!!
As I ride, there is usually a soundtrack for the day... Remember, I've got no stereo, no iPod, no MP3 player, etc. Whatever song comes to mind, I sing. When I say I sing it, I mean out loud as if no one were around and no one could see me - I mean I belt it out! On Sunday, that song was an old favorite of mine - Bob Seger's "Turn the Page" is a classic song of life on the road... (Lyrics in italics)
Now, remember, I am reading this book that I started at my Friend Tina's house, and one of the tenets of the book is that we are surrounded by coincidences. As we learn, these coincidences happen for a reason... I cannot control these events, any more than I can control the songs that come into my head. For the uninitiated, here are the lyrics (as I sang them - they could be off just a little bit...) along with my thoughts on the salient meaning for me:
On a long lonesome highway, East of Omaha
You can listen to the engine moanin out it's one lone song
And you think about the woman, or the girl you knew the night before
.... Yes, I think about the woman.... When I became single again a few years ago, I went to reconnect with an old friend, Mandy. She told me as a single man that I would be - her words, not mine - a 'hot commodity.' Remember, I was coming off my second failed marriage and I don't feel like a hot anything, except maybe a steaming pile of horse dung. Mandy, however knew better than I...
Yes, I am thinking about the woman. I am thinking about where I am going next, relationship-wise... During my period of singlehood, I have had the good fortune of getting to know some very classy, beautiful, desirable women... If I were a Lothario or a lover of lesser scruples, I am certain I could have taken advantage of these kindnesses... I, for what it is worth, seem to be incapable of this kind of behavior. When I love, I love passionately and deeply, and if I don't feel these things... well, cheap thrills just don't do it for me. In the meantime, I think about the woman....
But your thoughts will still be wandering
... Oh, my God, I am nothing but wandering thoughts - have you read this blog?
The way they always do,
When you're riding 16 hours and there's nothing much to do
You don 't feel much like ridin, you just wish the trip was through
... There are days I do wish that the trip was through, but I am happy out here on the road. I am living, making my own decisions, living with the consequences of those decisions, gathering experiences, thinking, exulting, LIVING!!!
REFRAIN - I'm going to save the refrain for last.
You walk into a restaurant, strung out from the road
And you feel the eyes upon you as you're shaking off the cold
You pretend it doesn't bother you, but you just want to explode.
... I do feel the eyes upon me. I feel as if I am always being judged; not necessarily by strangers in a restaurant, but employers, principals, students, and anyone who sees me on the dance floor. Why do I care so damn much about what these people think!??! As I said previously, I LIKE who I am... Why can't I just be confident in that fact and let everything else go like water off a duck's back? [I thought very long and very hard about this question as I rode... In the end, I am my mother's son - she is always aiming to please and I am always aiming to not disappoint, to rile, to create conflict... I am always about trying to keep the peace. This has cost me dearly in my life, especially my professional life... MORE after the refrain...]
Most times you can't hear 'em talk, other times you can
All the same old cliches, is that a woman or a man
And you always seem outnumbered, you don't dare make a stand.
... There we go again... Why not just make a stand? Make a decision, stand my ground, support my position - why so much equivocation????
Out there in the spotlight you're a million miles away
Every ounce of energy you try to give away
As the sweat pours out your body like the music that you play
... As a teacher, I relish the spotlight. I love being on stage and I feel like each class period is a performance. I definitely ascribe (subscribe?) to the theory that you cannot teach anyone anything until you have their attention - hence the 'performance.' Unfortunately, as Bob points out so eloquently, every ounce of energy you try to give away - teachers, can I get an 'AMEN?' I am so drained each and every day. I know I am doing something wrong here, and it is something I need to improve as an educator - I have to put some of the heavy lifting onto the students' shoulders!!! I feel like I am trying to do too much. Too much lecture, too much modifying, too much giving, too much leniency. IF I AM TO CONTINUE AS A TEACHER, I NEED TO LEARN HOW TO MANAGE MY ENERGY AND THE "EFFORT BALANCE" BETTER - MORE STUDENT EFFORT... I make it too easy, I fear.... Why? I think it goes back to not wanting conflict. But rather than saving me energy by not engaging in conflict, it is costing me energy in finding ways to avoid it...
Later in the evening as you lie awake in bed
With echoes of the amplifier ringing in your head
You smoke the days last cigarette, remembering what she said.
Well, I don't smoke cigarettes, but I can recall many a night I lay awake in bed agonizing over something I'd heard, said, not said, written, not written, should have said, should have written, should have ignored, etc., etc. You get the picture.... Which leads me to the REFRAIN:
Here I am on the road again
Here I am up on the stage
Here I am playing the star again
Here I go, turn the page...
TURN THE PAGE INDEED!!!! I have to learn to LET IT GO! Whatever it is LET IT GO! It does no good to invest so much energy in any negative comments... Why do I let them weigh me down? Why do I let them rule my mood; my actions? WHY, INDEED.
It was a productive day on the bike. Raindrops notwithstanding. Thank you, Bob Seger. From now on, I will try to turn the page...
Much love, everyone. THANK YOU for the wonderful feedback!!!
It's been waaaaay too long. But first, I have to start with what is freshest in my mind.
And that would be... dinner! I had the most incredible meal tonight at the Palace Casino Resort in Biloxi, MS. The manager, Brad Maples, and my server, Grayson, could not have been better!! Service only goes so far, however, it's the food that makes the meal! As I told Brad, until I met my second wife, Colleen, I didn't know the difference between a pickle and a pinot! Now that I have a more sophisticated palate (thanks, Colleen), I can honestly say that this is the best meal dollar-for-dollar that I've had in a long time!!! For a $35 prix fixe menu, I got an incredible appetizer of stuffed prawns over baby bok choy and a side of slaw. Incredible! The entree was a perfectly prepared 6 oz. filet with mushroom sauce and purple mashed potatoes. Purple!!! As any of my students will tell you, purple is my favorite color; because it rhymes with maple syrple! Desert was a sweet and salty ice cream - vanilla bean with a balsamic vinaigrette drizzle, raspberries, and whipped cream. (Say 'whip', now say 'cream' - Okay, sorry, Family Guy reference for the uninitiated.)
NOW, where was I? It has been way too long and way too much has happened... For that reason, tonight's entry will be sponsored by - stop it! No corporate sponsors!!! Tonight's entry will be divided into days... In fact, I think I will start a brand new entry and the header will be the date in question... ready?
And that would be... dinner! I had the most incredible meal tonight at the Palace Casino Resort in Biloxi, MS. The manager, Brad Maples, and my server, Grayson, could not have been better!! Service only goes so far, however, it's the food that makes the meal! As I told Brad, until I met my second wife, Colleen, I didn't know the difference between a pickle and a pinot! Now that I have a more sophisticated palate (thanks, Colleen), I can honestly say that this is the best meal dollar-for-dollar that I've had in a long time!!! For a $35 prix fixe menu, I got an incredible appetizer of stuffed prawns over baby bok choy and a side of slaw. Incredible! The entree was a perfectly prepared 6 oz. filet with mushroom sauce and purple mashed potatoes. Purple!!! As any of my students will tell you, purple is my favorite color; because it rhymes with maple syrple! Desert was a sweet and salty ice cream - vanilla bean with a balsamic vinaigrette drizzle, raspberries, and whipped cream. (Say 'whip', now say 'cream' - Okay, sorry, Family Guy reference for the uninitiated.)
NOW, where was I? It has been way too long and way too much has happened... For that reason, tonight's entry will be sponsored by - stop it! No corporate sponsors!!! Tonight's entry will be divided into days... In fact, I think I will start a brand new entry and the header will be the date in question... ready?
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