Paragraphs of Daily Thoughts and much Mental Therapy. Photos. Sometimes Videos. Published Weekly or so.
“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”
~ Oscar Wilde ~
So we are ready to roll. The excitement builds up as my jetlag turns it’s back for a vanishing act. I am finding our "stuff", surprising myself how well organized I have been. All "is" where it should be. Just about. Spirit’s bell goes back on his collar, we are moving on with a feel as turning our back to this urban setting we have been navigating throughout for the past 2 months. Just another Lifestyle which needs to be rebooted. Lives are lost every instant around us, other Lives are born, the cycle is incessant as the the circles keep on spinning. I cannot help feeling a sense of emptiness while the bags are packed one more time for this road which I know is my savior, which I hope is, as it has been all along.
All is so much carried within as even words too often are not verbally expressed even if around Friends as everyone has their own path to rake and smooth in preparedness for their own days and times to come. All has become a strange concept feeling such sadness needing to be contained and not expelled. I feel fortunate more than ever having here these pages I can spill my thoughts. They are “these pages” always my Friends with no barrier and no boundaries, infinite in their ability to receive my thoughts when my lost two Stars keep on bouncing their images morning after morning, night after night, too often not believing their own vanishing acts.
North is our destination for now trying to maybe catch some cooler temperatures within some empty spaces where "my" and "self" will conversate to no end and pull back the strength needed to go on while throughout such times I can display the only face that belongs to me and not having to wear a smile only because I have to even if that is the "thing" to do. How did Life become suddenly so complex? My intentions were never as such. It happens.
We are in Utah for now. Some errands to run in Salt Lake City and on up the Mountains later on to set up camp for a few days. Life on the Road is slowly coming back to me as the memories can’t help themselves lingering. "Adapting" is the key word. Nature herself will again heal I know. Some moments easier than others, some moments harder when I still reach for the phone to no avail.
We were done early afternoon and as I do not have a method for our destinations, the closer the better I thought, a space to rest it all for a few days and ride around some unpaved roads empty of traffic. I remembered 89 towards "Bear Lake", beautiful twisted black top lined with many camping opportunities. It was afternoon already after fueling and some provisions for the days to come. Spaces fill up quickly and no one moves throughout the weekend. Sure enough the primitive areas were filled with campers and ATV’s. I remembered a quiet campground called "Sunrise" and without wasting anymore time I secured a nice secluded site.
2 months of intermission and here we are back listening again for the music so dear to my ears. The birds are giving the Friday night free concert. No encores needed. They will go on till my eyes close for the night. A chipmunk adventures toward us. I can even hear the footsteps. Closer and closer, Spirit does not feel a threat and is only pointing his ears toward it. Suddenly his courage gives up and the little creature is up a tree. It is cool, a perfect temperature with the need of a sweater, I like it cold. Keeps also the food longer.
Is it as we have never left? It is not. I did not expect it to be as such, yet, there is a relief toward again regaining this luxury of ours, "time". A quick dinner now. A stand by, simple and fast. Avocado, tomatoes and cilantro on a tortilla. Back to basics and healthy. So out of shape after two months of physical inactivity. I feel as the proof is now this morning as the sun shines between the trees realizing I have, we have, slept for more than twelve hours. The inner clock has stopped and the stage of appointments and knocking on doors has also repressed. Coffee tastes better than ever and breakfast is on it’s way. A serious ride also if only I get moving.
My drug of choice has made it’s way back into our lives today. Spirit, or should I say "Mr. Spirit", was cool as ever back into his car taking it all in as I did riding the Summit rd. to Temple Canyon rd. to Bear Lake and back here to camp for a great dinner. Louisiana wild shrimp (bought frozen), zucchinis, tomatoes, sundried tomatoes, lots of garlic, all over some pasta. Life is so simple on the road. Living without refrigeration makes it even simpler.
Many stops, no schedule, none till an appointment in Portland for Crusty to be fitted with some new shocks, a new sponsor for us. Kind and helpful people from "GAZA Shocks". I cannot help thinking we live in such a beautiful Country with such friendly people as when we chatted with others also stopped on the shoulders of the trails. I breathe easier tonight compounded by some great cool weather again literally looking forward to another night of sleep and another day forward of riding. Some photos also if it happens.
I had to go back on the Summit Rd before Temple Canyon Rd towards this clearing carpeted with yellow flowers and trees lining for some shade. It is Peaceful. I only hear the many birds singing, Spirit’s bell when he tries to catch a fly, the wind blowing between the trees, that is it. Once in a while an ATV comes around the bend at high speed leaned over as if they are going to miss the road and topple not so gently over the bed of yellow flowers, but they make it in a cloud of dust. I am sure they do not see anything but the road they are on. I remember those days with the need of speed. They are gone now replaced by the need of a present time filled with a quality hard to describe. Life’s changes.
Our last night here. We could stay for a long time, all surrounding us is perfect. If only I had made Crusty’s appointment at a later date. We can come back. I have learned a lot of roads and free camping spaces here. Very inviting. No cooking tonight. Left over pasta and a good book. The winds have shifted and playing harmony with the trees as I often lift my head watching the tops sway as a well rehearsed dance. On this Father Day the mind has struggled when the body has stopped being entertained. My Mother’s images keep coming back as, out loud, I ask my surroundings if all is real. I keep asking "how can this be?". Wasn’t Lance enough. How can we be talking one day and gone the next? No one to talk to now. Such emptiness I am trying to surmount. I need to keep moving.
Ara and Spirit