Being on this 6-month road trip has lead me to lose sight of what's going on in the world. With each day a new adventure, you rarely read the news, and rarely watch television. At least, that's the case with me.
My perspective on life has paired itself down to just eating, riding, working, and sleeping. Working is really just writing blog posts, taking care of business duties, and editing photos. Sometimes the toughest part about work is figuring out which coffee shop to go to.
Nuclear warheads may have rained down on Washington DC and I wouldn't know about it until a few days later.
There's something refreshing and liberating about thinking only where you plan to hang out this afternoon and evening. I used to envy my dogs because all they seem to ever think about is just eating. I imagine life can be very boring that way too, but there are times when you really wish it was that simple.
But there's also something symbolic about it, something I've touched on before. It's like stripping away the layers that block your vision and prevent you from feeling your real self. Often we wear so many hats and take on so many responsibilities that we can't ever take time to hear what our heart is saying.
Sometimes you get so deep into the shit that you find yourself getting angry at others, yelling at the people who love you, and spending personal money on endeavors that you never really wanted to be in. You end up with more enemies than when you started, and then cut off an arm just to make all that shit go away.
And then you wonder why you even bothered with it all.
Standing out in the middle of the desert, with only the sounds of a gentle breeze and an occasional song bird, I take in a deep breath and feel like I have no more enemies and no more responsibilities. It's times like that I can understand why some people become hermits.
Living on a road trip for 6 months, motorcycling across the USA, and never staying in one place for more than a week, is like being a hermit.
You become more in touch with yourself, closer to the Universe, and it makes you want to write stuff like this.
A vagabond who hauls a motorcycle around the country in a toy hauler, earning a living as a website developer. Can often be found where there's free Wi-Fi, craft beer, and/or public nudity. 
Yea, pretty much the way I felt after last year's trip to Alaska.
ReplyDeleteGets to a point that not much matters, only a few necessities are all that's required. Keep on riding.
Steve:
ReplyDeleteI think that all of us get wrapped up in the logistics of existing and for this we require resources so we work. We work to have the funds to buy; food, shelter, clothes. I mean, that's all we really need but then we need luxuries and get wrapped up working more to support our desires when what we really need to do is LIVE life to the fullest and not be a slave to our possessions
bob
Riding the Wet Coast
It's nice to have a break from all off the details that seem to consume us all. Enjoy the time off and the road trip.
ReplyDeleteI just found you recently, and I'm enjoying your posts so far. Keep on doing what you're doing and enjoy the rest of your trip, sir.
ReplyDeleteI feel what you are saying and Bob Skoot hit it....but, then we NEED luxuries.....no we don't...we WANT them because the Jones' got them. We humans are an odd breed of desiring a lot more that we actually need. Maybe that is why the world is so screwed up today.
ReplyDelete6 month trip on motorcycle = only bare necessities = reality of only what is really needed = learning to live without luxuries = finding out what is REALLY important in life.....like writing this thought provoking post.
What I've found is how important you are to me Highway. How much I count on you; how much my heart soars when you turn over and look at me from your motorcycle to mine. I can't see your expression behind the helmet and glasses, but I know you're happy to see me. That thrills me! I ride behind you for hundreds of miles and think about how lucky I am to see the world, ride my motorcycle and be with you.
ReplyDeleteThat's what's important to me.
And my ability to share my story with others. My ability to love others without greed, to share my hardships and growth from them to help others know that serenity can be achieved after misery. You've opened my life to all of these possibilities. You've brought me the chance to be the real me, to be Sash.
I love you for it. I love you for who you are and for who I've become, just from having known you.
That's what's important to me.
Sash
http://www.sashmouth.com
I'm not living on my bike... but we live on the road... 3 and a half years now. Truck, trailer and bike. Some folks think we're retired, though I keep telling them we ONLY found a better way to LIVE! Hell, this month is just like the first when we left, there's allllmost enough $ to make it to the end of the month!
ReplyDeleteFolks keep telling me;"You can't do that!" ... uh... really? Damn, I didn't know that. I wonder how we've made it along for three years and 45 or 50,000 miles?
Whether you do it on the road... or find a way to LIVE in a "fixed" place... there's a hell of a lot better way to do it than we've been taught.
You two are finding YOUR way. You're only a few weeks in. Takes a lil' while to find your rhythm. But when you do, that "new" sense of exhilaration wears off and you find yourself just... comfortable... Comfortable for the first time in my life. I found where I belong.
be careful! That six months may grow into something else. ;) It's hard to think of pulling the plug on what comes to fit so well. The thought of being forced back into the "Normal" way now... well hell, just shoot me in the head ;)