has always been one of my favorite books. In fact, it’s a reason I wound up with a motorcycle.

People talk about feeling free on a motorcycle. That’s never been the appeal for me.   Some folks like the speed and the danger, but that always struck me as a sort of external way of getting your jollies.   Some think it’s “badass.”   Bullshit.  Unless you happen to be a great-grandmother in India balancing three sacks of grain, two infants and a baby goat.

That’s badass.

But motorcycles do require a concentration, a presence, a oneness with your environment that is salutary. Riding a motorcycle is an exercise in give and take with your environment, in learning how to discern what is and what is not within your control. A successful journey is the product of a thousand small, thoughtful decisions. It’s applied intelligence. In this sense it is a concrete lesson in the art of living, a lesson in some skills that I’ve struggled with more generally.

The book is actually more about the importance of caring about what you are doing than about motorcycles. When you do something well—with attention, with concern—you make it better. You make you better. And the effect it has on both you and the work ripples outward. People can sense it–the humility, the generosity—and they just might be inspired to do something similar. You can make the world better in ways that you could never have predicted.

Out before 9:00 a.m. this morning for the first time yet, and heading for Broomfield, CO, where my ex-wife and I will stay for two nights with my ex-girlfriend. Will keep you posted.

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And soy.  

Omaha tonight.   Colorado tomorrow.   

Pulling out for the morning.  No trailer brakes.     Here Mike can be seen cutting out the floorboard so we can Fred Flintstone it in a pinch.   

Just a loose wire.  We are fully functional and taking in the beautiful diversity of  Ohio corn fields.  

And her trailer and her Harley.     It’s 1200cc.    My bike is 790.   It’s 500 pounds.   Mine is 400.   When I met her she kickboxed.    She was totally surprised when I told her she was a tad intimidating.  

There’s something freeing about that.  It forces you to think about the difference between what you want and what you need, what would be nice and what’s essential.  And you better choose wisely, because it’s all you’ve got and you’re stuck with it for a while.

On Sunday, July 24, Diane and Mike will throw a Harley Sportster and a Triumph Bonneville America into Diane’s new trailer—attached to Diane’s truck—and head out to Colorado where they will begin a motorcycle trip from the Rockies to the Grand Canyon, with some beautiful stretches of America in between. These bikes are pretty small for a trip like this, so we can’t take a lot of baggage.   Well, that and the fact that we were married.

Even though we can’t take much baggage, we can take you.   We promise to be more edifying than the Trump and Hillary show, and we’ll have you back in time for school and football season.  So, throw a leg up.   We hope you’ll come along.