Kevin Bacon's not the only one who's six degrees of separation from the other people in his tribe. We're all drawing closer together each day. Here's a story of how my tribe reached out to me from yesterday's story.
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Category: On the Road
My "sea to shining sea" aspiration at Port Orford, Oregon: is this a case of no guts, no glory? or "pride goeth before a fall"?
I first learned about Redwoods in a Highlights Magazine. Forty years later I met them in person. I hope that these photos and factoids inspire you as they did me.
Trying to find a place to camp in North Dakota oil country took some ingenuity and the help of fellow campers willing to brave Yellowstone River mosquitoes.
Here's a tale of stunning beauty and the kindness of strangers from my favorite national park, Glacier.
George Carlin had it right when he riffed on our relationships with our stuff. "A house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it..." Motorcycle travel helps put this into perspective.
Think of the leggy woman in a tiny bikini and investment-grade boobs who usually adorns a bike, then replace her with a paunchy, hairy guy. I love the cheeky role reversal.
About 100 miles north of Cheyenne, I looked around and didn't see another soul on the road. That's it, I'm gonna throttle up.
I'd seen the Tour de France on TV and noticed that they use motorcyclists for other miscellaneous duties. You probably know where this is headed.
It was lovely, and that loveliness took my mind off the many things that could go wrong after dark, like all the big animals that could run out and clobber me, leaving me vulnerable to other dangers as I waited ten or fifteen minutes for another vehicle to come along.