Getting Lost in the Translation

Kenosha Pass, Park County, Colorado, US-285

When two people look at the same thing, they never see it the same way. No matter how hard one tries to explain their perspective, another person can only struggle to see it exactly as intended.

Instead, two or more people stand at the top of a pass and gaze out across the country, and simply agree that it looks inspiring. There's no need to elaborate in detail, because each person will interpret it into something personal of their own.

Reducing myself so small that I become invisible is something I often get out of riding across North America. That I can go so deep inside my thoughts, by placing myself so far out into the open, somehow seems ironic.

I can just as well as become invisible among the people that walk up and down the sidewalks of San Diego's downtown. But for me, the frenetic chaos of a bustling metropolis is more an intellectual exercise of watching and observing. Perched on my motorcycle however, along a two-lane highway in the middle of America, amid horizons of valleys and mountains, is like a chance to realign my spirit with Earth's energy.

The details of what two motorcyclists get from riding the same stretch of road are best left to each rider. To explain the inspiration I feel inside to someone else only causes layers of detail to get lost in the translation.

I sometimes wonder if maybe all I really need to do is post one single photo as a complete blog post, with no words. Because maybe that's all that needs to be said.

Though I can't help myself but to write long articles, I really try to keep them short, and not go too far into details. I find the less I say, the more you'll interpret it into something meaningful to you.  And I'd rather inspire you than just tell you.