Interlude - Catching Up

This blog has gotten way behind. Sorry about that! I've been keeping busy and using my free time to rest, and the days are getting shorter. The last post got as far as Phoenix, and now I'm writing this from back in Cobb Camp at Osceola National Forest in Florida, which means I've made a complete loop around the country: 23 states and over 9,000 miles on a pair of old Honda CT90's. I'll try and catch up soon, now that this journey is drawing to a close and I'm headed back home to North Carolina. I may switch to another format for the next adventure, but I'll keep you posted on that.

To those arriving here from Mike Walley's post on Facebook, welcome! A YouTuber who goes by Biker Dad reached out and asked for a summary of the who, what, when, where, and why of the trip, which I never wrote down because this started out as a way to keep friends and family up to date, and I never had any kind of master plan. The whole blog up to now is the length of a good sized novel, so I'll just take a moment to answer those questions in a shorter form.

In the summer of 2020, I'd planned to take a solo trip to kayak around the Stockholm archipelago in Sweden, but that fell through because of travel restrictions. I'd been wanting to try motorcycling for a long time, and casting longing looks at every Honda Ruckus that passed by, so I bought one, named it Kiddo, improvised some saddlebags, filled them with camping gear, and rode up into the mountains of Virginia from Durham NC, where I lived at the time. I thoroughly enjoyed the trip, and it helped me get over my anxiety about driving, which had kept me from ever getting a drivers license. My office had already closed and gone remote back in March, and when my marriage fell apart and my house was sold, there was nothing keeping me anywhere in particular, so in September of 2020 I started riding Kiddo around North Carolina and Virginia (where no license was needed). I carried my stuff in two 18 gallon plastic bins strapped to the sides.

Meanwhile I'd become somewhat obsessed with watching bikers on YouTube, especially Ed March of C90 Adventures, who'd ridden a 1980's Honda C90 from Malaysia to the UK and all over the Americas. I wanted some of his spirit. When I told a mechanic friend I'd like to fix up an old C90 for touring, and he had a friend with a 1968 CT90 sitting in a shed that I could have for free, it seemed like fate was guiding my way. I spent three months living in a tent over that cold wet winter, getting my first drivers license and motorcycle permit, learning about motorcycle mechanics and fitting a Lifan 125 engine into the bike, which I named Punkin. In trying to get a title for it, I found out that the original owner was Santa Claus and he gifted it to me as a Christmas present. As soon as I had a license and a license plate, I headed south to Florida for some warmer and drier weather, then back up through Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, Kentucky, Ohio, Indiana, and Michigan, following the spring as it moved north. From the Upper Peninsula I headed west through Wisconsin, Minnesota, South Dakota, and North Dakota to Montana, where I took a break of almost two months, flying back to North Carolina for the month of August. Along the way I was working remotely from a cellular connection and riding mostly on the weekends, camping in national forests or in the yards of friends both old and new.

As I was leaving from Montana, Punkin broke down, and I decided to leave it there and buy a 1971 CT90 with only 2000 miles on it, which I named Sugar. On Sugar I rode across Idaho, Nevada, California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama, arriving back in Florida where I'd been in the spring. Along the way I connected with friends and family, met many interesting people, saw more of my country, and got a better idea of just how big the world is. I also got steadily healthier and happier, and grew spiritually, usually when I wasn't really planning to. When I started, I had no real idea what I was getting into, but then again I believe a real adventure is one where the world pokes its head in with plans of its own. Slowly but surely, I've started learning to treat these moments as gifts to accept rather than obstacles to overcome. The important journey happens on the inside, and can't be measured in miles or any other unit I know of. And home is with the people I care about, and can't be located on any map.

I hope this finds you all well!