The 2010 calling of my soul was "You need to learn to ride a motorcycle, then you need to ride it to Oregon and back." Your mileage may vary.
Imagine yourself flying along Interstate 40 and seeing a billboard advertising a hot dog stand. How un-compelling is that? Now, same scenario with a Muffler Man holding a hot dog--irresistible!
We think of the Mississippi as an awesome force, which it is...eventually. Here's what I learned about life by visiting its headwaters.
I was tempted to put down my tent at a rest stop before I got to Childress, but the big sign saying "Watch for rattlesnakes" convinced me otherwise.
But I took a wrong turn. By the time I got re-oriented my fuel light appeared. I was down to one gallon of gas, which would carry me about 60 miles.
At first I thought, Oh no, is this a meth lab motel? Then I quieted my mind and tuned in.
Water, Gravel and the Serenity Prayer
Posted on February 19, 2013
Motorcycling is pretty straightforward: Oh, here's water, so I'll take it slow an easy; uh oh, here's a patch of gravel, so I'll get it and go. But life doesn't always present itself in such an easy-to-figure-out way.
Carter dug Denbeigh's grave in the back yard with a little moral support from a neighbor. The old Corgi was the only dog either of my boys had ever known as a family member.
If you had to introduce yourself to a dozen strangers every day, with no naysayers or fact checkers weighing in, what would you say?
