To the thousands of miles, we look forward with anticipation. To the thousands of miles, we look forward towards the horizon.
The Oregon coast is not a stranger to me, as I’ve traversed through the exact same route via Vespa several years back. Yet familiarity does not diminish character, as we pass through the quaint towns and say hello to fellow Bay Window breadboxes on the road and ride alongside the beautiful crashing waves of the Pacific.
Exactly a year ago, I ended my 20’s with a bang and proposed to my beautiful girlfriend by surprising her and serenading her aboard a flight that we frequented between Los Angeles and Oakland.
And in the rest of the year that kicked off my 30’s, I must say we’ve been off to a damn great start. Here we are now, a year wiser, quietly looking at the great adventures that lay ahead of us. One of the things I love the most about our relationship is how we manage to dream big, and take the small steps necessary to pave the way to our goals. In a few hours, we finally head off into our long-awaited honeymoon. The plan is to take our VW bus, Vanessa, and our curious butts all the way north to Alaska. Dream big, or go home.
And so, today is like any other. Because when you choose to live outside the shadows of fear, follow the little curious flame in your heart and quietly nurse them into the fires of passion, each day is like any other, because it will be unlike any other.
It’s my birthday. We’re driving up to Alaska. Hold steadfast in your dreams, and may the gods guide you safely to the destinations that you choose.
I’ve been primarily incognito, wallowing in filth, and sniffing all kinds of volatile compounds. We’ve been laying down serious hours in the garage, getting Vanessa in tip-top shape for the first leg of our honeymoon.
A few days ago, we were paid a visit by Colin. He is a wandering VW ninja of sorts, the type that converts mere key-holders into full fledged owners of an air-cooled machine. And in a span of 9 hours, Kat and I found ourselves completely transformed, stepping into the enlightened role of Volkswagen owners, taking over the basics of maintenance and tuning onto our own hands. This has been, by far, the greatest preparation we have undertaken for this trip.
Why learn ourselves, you ask? While I certainly agreed in the past that certain things should be left to experts (i.e. hire a damn mechanic), I have come to accept that owning an air cooled VW in this day and age simply cannot be (to a certain degree) entrusted to the supposed experts. With the type of travel we choose, and the situations we typically find ourselves in, there is no substitute for knowing to diagnose and having a basic understanding of your vehicle, when you find yourself stranded on the side of the highway in the middle of the night with no one to call.
Another pertinent example, Colin pointed out that whoever had rebuilt my engine – I had pistons replaced a few years ago – had not bothered to warn me that two very important pieces of cooling tin were missing in the engine, one of which provides air to the oil cooler. If you want it done right, you really have to know, and do it yourself.
I’ve taken Vanessa over several thousand miles since we got her in 2007, and while it’s always a blast taking her on the road, there is a constant fear and worry that sits in the back of my mind the entire time. Is the engine making weird noises? Am I smelling gas? Am I going to get stranded soon? This fear, was really just compounded by the lack of understanding.
And so here we are, with thousands upon thousands of miles of pavement ahead of us. We took notes, tightened our bolts, and did our homework. Let’s do this.
The hardships and poverty of my youth had been a good apprenticeship for this form of travel. I had been brought up to understand that material possessions and physical comfort should never be confused with success, achievement and security.
– Dervla Murphy
Such an important lesson to learn. Not only in your youth, but each day you wakeup.. With a heart swollen with ambition, and the day pregnant with opportunity.
Frame by frame via 120fps. Sweet.
To the bestest, cutest, fattest brother anyone could ever ask for. Happy Birthday Bro! I love you!!!
PS I hope this GIF goes viral. Hehe.
Before and after each and every ride, I always give my prayers and thanks to the world – first and foremost, for keeping me and my passengers safe. When you choose to travel on two wheels, you subject yourself to many risks that can very easily compound out of your control. So you try to keep hyper-aware of all your surroundings and environment, which is really part of the trance when you hop into the saddle, and ride off into the horizon.
We pulled 420+ miles this weekend, in a long awaited scooter camping exodus that led us to the fringes of Lake Isabella, and up into the Sequioa National Forest. Our buddy Gerry took his 50cc Honda Ruckus for its furthest journey yet, and marks the second time that Kat and I rode quite a distance fully-loaded. Apart from my sore ass and a very very hot ride home, it was a great weekend full of spectacular views and lonely sweeping pavement.
Did you kiss your passenger yet? All day, every day.
The best part is when you lie down on your mat inside the tent after a long day of riding hard. Through the mesh, you can see countless stars peeking through the branches of the trees, and the fatigue from mental and physical exhaustion sets in. The ground swallows you whole into a deep dreamless slumber.
The road travels fast, without sound, underneath your feet. Your concentration is flush, the past and the future are forgotten. You are in the pocket, and eventually nothing will exist. And soon enough, you quietly sink, into the sunset.
On the way to get the Vespa serviced.
Testing from a mobile device. I usually prefer the tactile of a keyboard, and am wary of spontaneous outbursts that get immediately pushed to the intarweb. But with the current gravitation towards posting images instead of words, this might come in handy.
Oh hello, Milky Way.
Fantastic view from our campsite last weekend, as seen from Cottonwood Canyon in Death Valley NP.
Highly suggest viewing a larger version here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/lovine/7120745483/in/photostream/lightbox/
This is one of the many reasons why I look forward to isolation. There exists several worlds apart from the one we are accustomed to, and the moment we choose to open our eyes, we begin to pick up the hazy edges of our own existence and realise that we are both insignificant and therefore extremely special at the same time.
It makes more sense at the edges. Listen to the silence. Look into the darkness. Give your thanks.
Breakfast of Champions
Breakfast of the Walking Dead