You adventure your way and I'll adventure mine

The last couple of days have been hard. I was torn between continuing my adventure traveling around the country and returning to "the real world." Therefore, instead of taking the time to explore the Mojave and and Moab, I have been driving east. My little '09 Prius reminds me of "The Little Engine that Could." Tug, as I have named her, is pulling a trailer loaded with Dragon, my R1200GS. She just keeps on humming along, slow at times, but never letting us down. At times I think I can actually hear her: "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can." So far, Tug has taken us from Covington, Georgia, across southern Texas to San Clemente, California, and then north up the coast on the Pacific Coast Highway, as far as Manchester and east to Sacramento and Yosemite, south into the Mojave and east again through Utah to Grand Junction, Colorado. In all, this has been a 5,500 plus mile journey for us and Tug just keeps pulling us along.

Meanwhile, Dragon has only clocked a little over 1,300 miles exploring Big Thicket National Preserve and the Sam Houston National Forest in Texas, Yosemite National Park, the Pacific Coast Highway from its beginning in San Clemente up to the Redwood National Park just south of Crescent City, CA. If a year ago, you had told me that I would have seen this much of the country on the trip of a lifetime and that I would spend more time in Tug than on Dragon, I would have thought that idea preposterous. Now, looking back, I think that doing the entire journey this way has been brilliant. I would not trade this for the world. I wish that I had ridden more of the journey and will make a point of doing that going forward, but the addition of Tug and her trailer was born of necessity.

When I first hatched this plan in early April of 2012, I was discussing it and dreaming about making this trip with my loving companion Merlin, whom you may have read about in previous stories. But doing a 10,0000 mile adventure on a motorcycle, even one as comfortable and capable as Dragon, simply was not feasible for little Merlin's frail 14 year old body. So enter Tug and a new trailer as a means of traveling from place to place in comfort, using Dragon as our day tripper to see the sites. Merlin and I planned the entire trip, prepared and accounted for all the know issues of traveling together. We did not see an alternative, but before the official trip began, Merlin passed away. There I was ready to go, all contingencies accounted, ready for to drive Tug and Dragon across this beautiful country. Had I not originally planned on taking Merlin, this trip--like so many others before it--would have been just Dragon and me traveling with the bare essentials. Instead, we have living quarters, air conditioning in the scorching heat of the desert, room for a week's worth of clothing, food and cooking supplies, my guitar, various and sundry electronics, both helmet for different needs (on/off road), shoes, flip flops, and boots, extra jackets and fishing gear, all conveniences that I would have done without and been happy to, but that I have been glad to have at times. Thanks to Merlin, instead of having a vehicle that has to be both transport (rushing to get to the next place to get setup and camped early and for leisure to absorb the countryside from inside my helmet, and miss out on many of the little things along the way), I have been able to take my time getting from place to place. Driving at night is safer. Stopping on the road side on a whim, grabbing my camera from the seat beside me, and hiking into the bush to take a picture is much more comfortable and convenient and less time consuming. I'm not roasting in my suit or taking 15 minutes to remove it. Traveling on Dragon means putting on my motorcycle gear (and taking it off) and it is more likely that my breaks include a quick stop for moment to observe scenic vistas along the roadway and then riding away with nothing more than a memory for myself and no photo to share with the world.

I hope in the future I will remember what a blessing traveling with Tug has been and choose to do it this way again. People give me the most curious looks and other bikers look at me askew for towing my adventure bike from place to place. I keep reminding myself, I have an adventure bike, but this is my adventure. You adventure your way and I'll adventure mine! So, to you I say, "Let your adventure take shape your way, whether it is on two wheels, three wheels, four wheels, or in my my case, eight wheels. Or with no wheels at all! Stay true to your adventure because you're the one out there, not anyone else!

Ride to the Redwoods and Back

Yesterday, I had the best ride of the trip which entailed 11 hours in the saddle and more switchbacks than I could count on the Pacific Coast Highway and CA-101. The purpose of the ride was two-fold: see the Redwoods and complete the spreading of Merlin's ashes.

The rush of adrenaline and endorphins from riding was like nothing else. The pull of the earth as I round each corner, feeling the suspension of my spine and that of the bike enforces the feeling of oneness with the machine as it simply becomes an extension of you or perhaps the other way round. The twinge in my legs and back as the rear tire finds loose gravel on the ground and slides ever so slightly in the turn. The vibration in my hands as the smooth caress of the fresh glistening asphalt abruptly changes to the course, dull, gravelly pavement of old surface. I can feel the wheels of time roll back as the trees and plants around me begin to become larger and more majestic. The road gyrates in all direction, distracting me from the changes that are now rapidly occurring. Signs are posted to beware of Elk crossing. While looking at the huge display of moose statues in the campground, I suddenly notice one of them move, and look back from across the 50 yards of grass to say "Moose? Where? AlI I see are Elk!"

On a quiet road in the midst of Redwood giants, I dismount from Dragon and note as I venture onto a small path that even the smallest vegetation in these woods is almost my height. I look up to see nothing but tree...large enough around to almost encompass my peripheral vision; this tree has burrows in the base large enough for me to easily fit into, yet when I look up, straight up the tree, I cannot see the top, and I can't see sky either. There is a gentle breeze in the forest, but not enough of a breeze to rustle the vegetation as it just did 50 feet away. Seconds later, another sound--only closer and this time from the left. Turning, I realize that I have ventured several hundred feet into the forest, although it didn't seem that far when walking tree to tree and taking pictures. It is now an overwhelming distance between me and the safety of Dragon. Slowly, but with purpose, I make my way across the distance and when, once again, I feel the familiar solidity of paved ground under my riding boots, I turn quickly to see what it was that was following me. There was no movement. At this point, even the wind has ceased. Climbing back on Dragon, we (Merlin and I) set out further north in search of where the Redwood Nat'l Park meets the ocean. I am awestruck at the site! The Redwoods are on one side of me and the Pacific Ocean is on the other. Looking out into the ocean, I walk down the course dark sand that makes up the beaches and shoreline of northern California. The tide is on its way in along with the fog, as it creeps its way onto shore and steals away into the redwoods. Here, I said my last farewell to Merlin, reminding him that we finally made it together. Here is where the last of his ashes will lay, but I am not parting with his loving spirit and wisdom as they will live with me forever in my heart.

The return trip was an exercise in melding stamina, determination, and pure joy into one passionate ride through the same curves that so challenged and inspired my riding some six hours before. Now, however, it is dark, the sweet yet pungent smell of decaying redwood and leaves fills every breath with a reminder that I am in the presence of the most majestic living plants I have ever experienced. They stand tall against the cold and wind, having witnessed the entry of man if not life into their midst. Throughout the course of history, the forest has thrived in spite of the changes it has seen. On the edges of the road where the asphalt impinges on the daily life of the forest, eyes glow in the brilliance of the headlight, many looking back to take heed of the possible danger, others looking askance at the oncoming object, stunned and motionless until the final seconds of my approach when the animal makes a sudden decision to dart one direction or the other while another simply freezes, looking on in horror. On this night, we are not in harms way--me or the animals in the forest.

On the final stretch, I feel the cold dampness of the pacific seeping into my suit. Following the coast in these hills requires many turns and switchbacks and the ocean and wind seem to know it, together finding me at my most vulnerable, leaning hard into a right switch while climbing hard. Just as I accelerate to complete the maneuver, a cold blast of wind races down the road carrying the salty mist of the sea and blurring my vision once again. On the straightaways, the wind hit the cliffs and wraps around the top pulling me closer to the edge. In the distance is a faint light. That's it. The end of today's journey. Ahhh, what a brilliant day! I wonder what tomorrow...

~Topher