Monday, April 2, 2012
MotoMorphosis (Part 2)
Welcome back. If you made it through part 1, you are either a psychologist looking for fodder for your next paper, or, perhaps, there are others out there like me. I'm betting on the prior, but over the last few months, I have realized that I am not as alone in my thoughts as I once believed.
In fairness, the logo of the Iron Butt Association above is not where my journey started. That would have been easier, but it may have proved a little daunting had it been the case. I guess technically the idea started with watching Long Way Round. I've never ridden off road, though I will. The miles were not huge by super slab standards. But two well-heeled dudes had a dream and a passion and they made it a reality. My little girl is 8 and I can't hardly stand to leave her for the week which I ride in the summer. I do realize that those kind of trips are a mental requirement for my makeup and it doesn't necessarily make me a bad dad to take 7 days away. I can't envision taking the months away required to go around the world, nor can my mortgage company. Making that kind of trip a dreamers dream. Maybe in 10 years and 1 Mega-Millions jackpot it will be a reality, but it's not a goal. Goals are things I achieve. Dreams are things that keep me interested between goals.
Long Way Round led me to Jupiter. Not via space travel, but via Ted Simon's excellent book Jupiters Travels, and the follow-up Dreaming of Jupiter. Now don't go all Lloyd Bentsen on me, but I feel a distant kinship to Mr Simon. He picked up and decided to ride a motorcycle, seemingly out of nowhere, at about the same age as I. He had a desire and passion that 2 wheeled adventure allowed him to satiate. He over-packed. He didn't have lots of friends who rode (now he does, seemingly to his chagrin). He is a man with thoughts and feelings, not a machine who simply hopped on and bore down. He had doubts, failures, successes and "moments" about how he fit in to the collective. Through it all, his tires on his Triumph rolled, but stopping where and when he felt to enjoy his journey.
If I am no Jack Kennedy, Charley Boorman, Ewan McGregor or Ted Simon, then who am I? Well, I'm Joel, and I am damned pleased to meet you. So. Riding around the world was out, but the adventure was in. What next? I had heard the term Iron Butt before, but I do not recall it being associated with motorcycles. On a whim, because I knew not having one would be the Achilles heel to the implementation of a dream, err goal, I used my pal Google to see what made an Iron Butt, simply out of jest. "The Goog" on the innerweb doesn't mess around. No sir. "How do I get an Iron Butt" your protagonist types. Iron Butt Association is hit number 1. He clicks, he scores....
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