Okay, I’m using a throwback selfie this week. How far back is that? October 30th, 2009. Winnie – he’s the handsomer of the two of us – was literally a young pup of almost-three. And that shirt was exactly ten years old. I think I still have that hat, though these days I wear it the other way around (“The kangaroo goes in BACK, son!” the random old man in New Orleans told me earlier THAT SAME YEAR! (though right at the beginning of the year).
I didn’t pick this selfie because of the handsome dog or the kangaroo the wrong way around. No, I took it because we were driving. Heck, I don’t even remember where we were going, but we were moving forward, and usually that’s good enough for me.
True story: just today at my dayjob I was helping a gentleman at BMW Mottorad in Germany and I thanked him for my bike – not that he had anything to do with it other than working at the company in general. He asked where I’d ridden it. I told him from Death Valley to the tip of Washington. Saying that made me think two things simultaneously: one, I really need to head east more. But, two, I was pretty impressed with it myself.
When the Powerball lottery climbs high enough – and at $420 million it’s high enough – Fern and I fantasize about the epic road trip we’d take if we won. We’d set out with no particular destination in mind. On the grid, off the grid, doesn’t matter – we’d have some sort of awesome overland rig funded by our lottery haul – like this Earth Roamer (a guy’s gotta dream, right?). There are so many places I’d go if money and time weren’t critically monitored resources – how about an on- and off-road trip from Mexico to Canada via the Rockies? Or that bucket-listed Four Corners trip where you visit San Ysidro, CA, Blain, WA, Madawaska, ME, and Key West, FL for no other reason than, I don’t know, pick up a tourist coffee mug in each city.
The urge to drive, to travel, to journey, it used to frighten me. I used to think it meant I was running away from my problems. And, yeah, if I’m totally honest there’s something to that, but more than that these days my loved ones are so cast to the wind – family in Anacortes, Washington, Pasadena, California, Cape Cod… friends up and down the west coast and scattered across the country like jewels in a field… And I’m here. Don’t get me wrong, I love my space here in Guerneville. But as I’m getting older the urge to touch base face to face, and to embrace in a real physical hug… it’s becoming more and more precious and priceless.
“But, Jordy,” you say, “Why not just fly?” Well, I don’t mind flying, but it’s expensive and has always seemed a little disorienting to me. I mean, really, door closes in San Francisco and opens again and I’m… in Seattle? Yes, I understand how it works, but there’s a part of my lizard-brain that is suspicious of putting so much space between me and the ground.
Last year, I managed two major road trips – the ride through Shasta, Truckee, and Yosemite, and then Christmas when Fern and I tag-teamed on a straight-through drive to Anacortes – nether were planned too far in advance, which isn’t ideal, sure, but sitting here in March 2018, I’m taking some solace in those two because right now I don’t have any significant road trips planned for this year. When the snow melts, I need to get up to see my uncle in Auburn. I’d love to visit my sisters up in Washington again, but, I don’t know how realistic that is. I definitely need to go visit my brothers who are much closer at hand… We’ll see what the year brings. I’m confident there’s a proper road trip ahead this year. It will come up, certainly.
And when it does I’ll promise you a more updated road selfie than the above picture. Newer shirt, kangaroo in the back, and Winnie and I are both older and wiser.
Well, at least Winston is.
