Outside, looking in.
Before I left Seattle, a close family member of mine had passed away. The celebration of life was going to be held in rural Montana. But it wasn’t going to be held for a couple weeks. So I had some time to think about a lot of shit.
No job, no relationship, nothing holding me back but myself. I was in need of some exploration. Maybe it was self exploration that was calling to me. A feeling of desperation that there was something missing from my life. Something that made me feel again. Feel like myself.
Whatever that even was.
I still have dreams of participating in Baja races. A dream I’ve nearly forgotten. Trophy trucks, motorcycles, the ironman class of racing. An interest that’s never been fully lost. Where racers compete in ruthless desert terrain over 1000mi. A true endurance race. This wasn’t the time for that in particular, but it’s good to have longer term goals I guess. I knew I at least liked riding off road on motorcycles. We’ll call that a starting point to do, life.
When I got to Southern California, I was grateful to have family and friends in the area. Most of my closest friends had migrated to SoCal after the military, and my family still lived there. I’ve never been a huge fan of cities or populated places. But I’ve learned to appreciate what they have to offer. San Diego wasn’t my target, and one of my friends lived in the middle of the desert, East of the Sierra mountains. He offered for me to stay there and regroup my life.
The heat is pretty insane during the summer in the desert. Especially being a rock throw away from Death Valley. As if the name needs more of an explanation than just saying it. But that wasn’t an issue. My buddy had a couple acres, a beautiful warm home, an awesome dog, and about 30 chickens. Couldn’t really ask for a better place to be. Plus we both liked motorcycles.
I spent about a month there fixing some motorcycles and planning my trip to Montana for this celebration of life. The plan was to ride the entire way off road. Or at least as much as I possibly could. Backcountry Discovery Routes (BDR) have a lot of great trails that I haven’t yet ridden. But I figured that was a good place to start with some existing dirt trails that have already been vetted. All the connecting sections in-between routes took the most time.
This was turning into a great little adventure plan. The route was probably the only thing that was really planned. Barely. Where to stop, sleep and eat were all up in the air. Making plans on the fly based on how I was feeling seemed appropriate. I think that’s what I needed. Plus it’s easy to over plan these things.
Fast forwarding through the days of riding and time spent with family. It’s only left me with time for reflection.
Spending time explaining the route and all the little things I found on the way is not going to be the point of this post. I’m still working out the point, if there is one. Is one even needed? doesn’t matter. Lets go on a ramble.
Riding fast, and moving slow. A situation that’s encountered on a motorcycle. You can ride through trails as fast as you want. When it comes time for refueling, eating, even having a cup of coffee. This all requires you to slow down. The amount of moments forced to just sit on a curb and have a cup of coffee or eat a snack really add up. And it’s the time you get to really have a look around. Think about the next leg of the trip. Evaluate how you feel. Really explore whats on your mind.
At fueling stations especially. Motorcycles have this weird vulnerability aspect to them. I suppose since they lack doors and any real space to shut out the world. People seem more attracted to saying hello or having a conversation with you about where you’re going. Especially if that person also rides motorcycles. I’ve met a lot of other riders and random people this way during the ride. For whatever reason, most of those people also seem to be the most memorable.
This was my first big motorcycle trip at the time. It’s left me with a feeling I’ve been trying to sort out. It’s been difficult to describe why this trip felt this way. It’s not like it was insane or anything. There was no outlandish event that happened. It was just fun. Why it is fun is where the ambiguity lay.
You could say riding motorcycles is fun in general and I will agree with you. This trip however, explored a different subset of just the enjoyment of riding. There was a deeper sense. I’ve felt this way during BASE jumping trips as well. But it wasn’t the thrill of jumping off of something that I was seeking. Most objects to jump from require exploration through unfamiliar terrain. Getting myself to the jumping area has always been my favorite part of the whole thing. And I’ve never fully understood it.
Bringing me into reflection on my childhood. Mostly spent exploring the desert hills behind my house. Climbing trees, bombing down hills on bicycles and spending days digging in the dirt. Marveling at creatures in the wild and investigating unknown terrain. I think this childlike explorative experience is something that is harder to find as you get older. Often lost and forgotten.
Although there are many that dedicate their lives to fully exploring in whatever sense is practical to them, they are still few. Through hikers, sailors, bike packers, motorcycle travelers etc. Whether or not a clear goal is defined before they set off, their journey often brings clarity. Often times in ways one could never expect.
This form of exploration is what I think is missing for a lot of us. And why we seek it out so frivolously. Or marvel at the ones who do. A seething curiosity of what lies beyond the horizon. This isn’t a statement of the grass may be greener somewhere else. But there could be cool rocks or neat trees.
Whether its a big trip across the world, or a meander to somewhere you’ve never been.
Go for a little explore.
Sluice Boxes, MT
