Category: Travel

A Change In Priorities

We had a death in the family this week. Two, actually. Both had massive strokes on the same day and both passed away on the same day. A very odd coincidence. Anyway, I was talking to the widow of one of them and, in an attempt to offer comfort, had mentioned that now is the time to relish the memories they had made together. He brightened up and went into a long list of all the cruises, trips, excursions, and sailing outings they’d done. They’d actually done a lot more than I’d realized. It was obvious how fondly he remembered all those things they’d done together. Ultimately, our life is defined by the experiences we had.

I just finished a book that drove this concept home. It’s called Die With Zero by Bill Perkins. In it, the author has some very unique ideas about money, resources, and what’s important in life. To quote the old saying, “nobody dies wishing they’d spent more time at the office“. He encourages you to use your money to maximize the experience points you accumulate throughout life. He gives an example of when he was just out of school, dirt poor and eating ramen for dinner every night.

His roommate quit his job and borrowed money so he could backpack through Europe for a few months. The author thought he was nuts for being so irresponsible. The roommate came back with fantastic stories of meeting girls, beautiful beaches, and pictures of gorgeous scenery. The roommate found a new job shortly after returning and had paid back the borrowed money before long. Years later the author had built up some savings and thought about the trip the old roommate had taken. He realized that at age 30, he’d never be able to experience or recreate a carefree trip like that. That was an experience reserved for youth, and he’d missed it because he was being responsible with his money. Meanwhile the roommate had an experience he’ll remember forever and suffered no long term financial impacts because of it.

As the name of the book implies, the point is to die with zero. If you’ve got money and savings still in the bank when you’re gone, you left experiences on the table that you could have had. As you lay on your deathbed, wouldn’t you rather have had one last cruise or a trip somewhere with your loved one than a few extra dollars in the bank?

While much of the book is geared towards younger people and helping them think about how to manage their resources long term, there were a few chapters that really hit home for me. He uses the concept of “time buckets” to help prioritize experiences. The things you do in your twenties and thirties can be wild and more risky. You have time to recover, both physically and monetarily. As you move into your forties and fifties you can still have “active” experiences – ski trips, climbing the thousands of stairs in tiny towns in Italy, hiking national parks, etc…

But reality is that by the time you hit your sixties and seventies, the experiences you can have – change. While we all hope we’re still physically fit, for most of us a week long ski trip to Taos is not realistic at 65. Driving and long plane flights are harder. Our experiences tend to be more sedate – cruises, museums, and sitting on the beach enjoying sunsets. If you make it to eighty… well, very few of us are still active. Median life expectancy in the US is 77. Experiences become pretty limited at that point. Most of what you have at that age are memories of the past.

Having someone pass away, combined with the concepts in the book, hit me hard. Based upon average life expectancy, I have twenty years left. That’s only 1,000 weeks. If I did an “experience” every four weeks, that means I’ll have 250 more experiences in my life. That’s sobering. And out of those remaining twenty years, how many do I have left where I can still be relatively active? I hope a lot, but there’s no guarantee.

Why don’t we come to that realization when we’re younger?

So no more farting around and waiting until next month, six months from now, or next year to have those experiences. The clock is ticking and I want those life experiences in the bank. I don’t want to be on my deathbed, with money still in the bank, wishing I’d taken that trip when I was still fit enough to do it.

You only have this life once and you don’t get to take your things with you. You die with nothing more than the memories of what you’ve done and the people around you.

Let’s go make the most out of those remaining weeks.

Chasing The Stoke

The stoke is a surfing term that started appearing in the 1950’s. “Stoke” is a feeling of exhilaration or happiness that you find in something. It can also be a feeling of confidence. “Dude, I’m so stoked – did you see that wave I caught!” Surfers spend their time “chasing the stoke”, meaning driving up and down the coast (or flying to exotic destinations) looking for that perfect wave to fuel the stoke. I mention this because once upon a time in a galaxy far, far, away, I fancied myself as a surfer. In reality I was a really bad surfer, but it didn’t matter. When I caught a decent wave, it gave me such a feeling of exhilaration… I knew exactly what the stoke was at those moments. And I wanted more.

I am officially declaring the next 356 days the year of the stoke. I’ll admit that I’ve lost the stoke lately. It’s time to get it back. It’s time to do things that get you excited and wanting more. This year will be about experiences that make you want to wake up early so you can plan out the next thing. I want to get back to chasing the stoke.

So in no particular order, here are the stoke-inducing resolutions for the coming year:

  • You can’t chase the stoke if you look like a homeless street bum. Regardless of setting – island wear, city exploration, or climbing mountains, if you look good you’ll feel better about yourself. And if you feel good, you’ll be more pumped to go find the stoke. We will look good this year.
  • It goes without saying, if you resemble the Pillsbury Doughboy it’s hard to look good. Not impossible, but certainly harder. We want to remove obstacles to finding the stoke. Not being squishy around the middle is a priority.
  • With the zombie apocalypse and/or civil war looming at any moment, we will strive to be harder to kill. Confidence makes finding the stoke easier.
  • I have plenty of adrenaline-producing hobbies. Mountain bikes, motorcycles, skiing, etc… These things shall be a daily priority to keep the desire for chasing the stoke primed.
  • Documenting the stoke helps maintain that need to keep finding it. Looking back at pictures or video and thinking whoa that was cool, makes you want to go do it again. Creativity will be a priority this year. Besides, let’s be honest – who doesn’t like showing off your stoke a bit?
  • It’s harder to feel the stoke when you only surf at the same spot. It gets boring. We will chase the stoke this year. Little towns, museums, epic landscapes, picturesque barns, quirky stores and tacky tourist spots are all on the menu. We will hit the road to find the stoke this year.
  • Part of finding the stoke is developing habits that make you happy and content. Finding your zen. Making a point to go to the coffee shop several times a week to relax and talk about where to find your stoke next. Getting massages. Creating morning routines that don’t involve hours of mindless TV or surfing the internet. Walks after dinner and sitting in the sun first thing in the morning. There’s a reason so many surfers are into Buddha, mindfulness, and connecting with nature – being grounded leads to contentment. You can’t find the stoke if you start your day angry about geopolitics.
  • When I was a teenager, I was able to chase the stoke fueled by pop tarts, gas station burritos and NoDoz. That is not a recipe for success now. This year we will be mindful and deliberate about food. We will take the time to make a decent cup of coffee or tea. We will spend time cooking with a focus on real food, taste, and healthy recipes. We will combat the urge to eat crap because we were too lazy to plan ahead. Clean, simple, and not processed. Life is too short to not enjoy food (in appropriate portions).
  • It’s hard to chase the stoke when you’re weighed down with things. If something isn’t adding value to my life, or I haven’t used it in a year – it’s gone. I’m too old to be collecting stuff. This year needs to be a focus on minimalism and being deliberate. The things I surround myself with need to be comfortable, make me happy to be around, be of good quality, and be utilitarian. If it’s not helping me chase the stoke, or improving my mood and environment – it’s gone. Clean and simple is the answer. Clutter and disarray are the enemy of finding the stoke.

So that’s it. My plan for the year. Easier said than done, I know. But when you sit back and look at the list, why wouldn’t you be doing those things? The mere fact that I have to make these resolutions to myself shows just how off track I’ve gotten from what’s important.

We’re only here once. Let’s make sure we make it a life worth living.

“We are what we repeatedly do, therefore, excellence is not an act but a habit.” - Aristotle

Time To Hit The Road

The other day I saw one of those on-line questionnaires designed to phish for security info disguised as a quiz; “how many of these states have you visited?” But it did get me thinking, so I put together a list of all the states and countries I’ve been to. It’s not overwhelming. Nobody is going to mistake me for a travel influencer. The official count – 23 states and 6 countries. I’d guess that makes me an average traveler, maybe a touch above? It is possible my state count is higher… early on in my career there was a bunch of flying to visit customers that’s mostly a blur now. Anyway, I’ve been to about half the country.

Here’s the reality though – of those 23 states, I’ve only really seen a handful. “Seen”, meaning drove through a significant portion. Did sightseeing. Ate at restraunts. Did the tourist thing. The rest were business trips, driving through to get somewhere else, or saw only a tiny portion.

And now that we’ve reached retirement age, it’s time to truly travel and see ’em all. Both Mrs Troutdog and I have been talking about travel for some time. We both agree that we want to see the USA more than other countries at the moment. The problem? We can’t agree on how to see the country.

Mrs Troutdog wants to travel in a mega-land-yacht RV so we can sleep in our own bed each night and not be pooping in public toilets. She wants home cooked meals rather than eating out every day and having to go to a restaurant just to get coffee in the morning. I want to travel by car so we can be nimble and flexible, able to easily stop at every roadside stand advertising deep fried Twinkies. We’re at a bit of an impasse.

Full disclosure – we used to own a mega-land-yacht. In fact we lived in it for a year, so we’re very familiar with that sort of travel.

Impassioned pleas have been made on both sides of the argument. Power point presentations and white boards have been involved. Hundreds of hours of YouTube videos have been viewed looking for an edge to win the discussion. Friends and family now cringe and leave the room if anyone brings up the “travel” question.

The thing is, when you step back and think about it… it’s a silly discussion. Two thirds of the people in this country would give anything to be fortunate enough to be in our shoes. We’re very blessed to even be having this discussion. We worked hard, saved our pennies, and now find ourselves in a great place in life. We’re able to do as much or as little travel as we want. I don’t take that for granted.

So here we are. I think we’ve come to a temporary compromise. We’re going to pick a handful of things to see and places to visit in shorter 3-4 day trips. We’ll either drive, or fly and rent a car, and do the hotel thing. We’ll use this to not only sightsee, but to evaluate that sort of travel. Do we like that sort of flexibility, or is the whole hotel/motel, eating out every meal vibe a no-go for us?

It will be an interesting experiment. One I’m looking forward to. I see Route 66 calling my name. How about you? What’s your preferred method of vacation/travel?

Of course with the price of gas, food, and lodging these days… we may have already missed our grand travel window.

Get Off The Main Road

Are you someone who sticks to the main road, always following the route Google Maps gives you? Or are you willing to wing it and explore the backroads? A few weeks ago, I wrote a bit about pushing my limits skiing. One of the things I’ve noticed about myself, when it comes to skiing, is that I mostly stick to the main runs. I tend not to venture into unknown territory unless I’m with someone who’s been there before. I like the security of knowing exactly what type of run it is and where it leads to.

But as I said in that previous post, I’ve made a vow this year to push my limits and explore more. I’ve started going in and out of the trees and venturing into terrain I wouldn’t normally try. I’m loving it. It’s also scary. I’m not that great of a skier, so the possibility of getting myself into trouble is high. Even though my confidence is rapidly improving, I still question myself.

Yesterday was one of those days when I decided I was going to explore an area of the resort I’d never been to. I spent a couple of runs skirting the area and scouting it out from the chairlift. The terrain was hard to see, so I couldn’t judge if it was above my skill level. Was I going to end up down in some gulley, or would I inadvertently ski out of bounds?

I wrestled with those thoughts and the asked myself, what’s the worst thing that could happen? And the answer was that I’d have to take my skis off and hike a bit. So off I went. You can already guess the outcome. It was awesome! I now have a whole new area to explore. Why in the world didn’t I do this before? And suddenly, as I skied other areas of the resort, I started seeing new trails and areas I’d never noticed before.

There’s nothing wrong with using Google maps to get you from point A to point B. But if you never get off the main road, you’ll never know what you might be missing.

You’re only here once, so you might as well explore.

I Like Pickles

  • This week Mrs Troutdog and I celebrated our 29th wedding anniversary. It’s still a mystery how she’s managed to put up with me for that long. An even greater mystery is how I managed to hide my love of pickles for this many years. As part of our anniversary celebration we flew down to Palm Springs to play some golf and see the in-laws. On day one of our visit I discovered a giant Costco tub of pickles in her mom’s fridge. I spent the next few days diligently working my way through the giant vat of pickles. At one point Mrs Troutdog declared, “all these years and I had no idea you liked pickles so much?”. My secret is out. I guess I have to confess. I’ve been hiding pickles to eat when she’s not there. I’ve been sneaking out of bed to visit late night pickle stores. If we can get through the shock and shame of my pickle secret, I’m pretty sure we can make it through another 29 years of marriage.
  • While looking stuff up for my pickle story, I discovered that there are a ton of pickle of the month clubs. Who knew? I never would have guessed that the pickle community was large enough to support monthly deliveries of pickles. So, if any of you are looking to buy me a gift… now you know.
  • If I ever become super-woke and feel compelled to list my pronouns, I’m going with… rib/eye. Stole that from twitter. Not sure why that amused me so much.
  • Speaking of Palm Springs, we played a couple of days of golf at some high-end courses. I tend to be a local muni-course type of player. I bring my own water, walk the course whenever possible, and expect to see the condition of the fairways and greens as… “variable”. These Palm Springs courses are not that. You pull up to the clubhouse and dudes run out and put your clubs in the cart. They supply tees, wet towels, water, and divot repair tools. The greens and fairways are perfectly manicured. You truly feel bad taking a divot on the fairway. It’s honestly intimidating if you’re not much of a golfer. I was a bit worried leading up to the trip. Spent a bunch of money on travel bags for the clubs, dealing with checking them in at the airline, and the super expensive green fees – last thing in the world I wanted to then play horribly. It got in my head leading up to the trip. This is why I could never turn pro. Well, that and that whole lack of coordination thing. But, I played really well (for me). It was a fun experience and I look forward to our taking more golf trips. Except how do I now go back to regular people courses where you have to load and unload your own clubs from the car?
  • There was a political bloodbath last night. Shockingly, it turns out that when the economy is tanking and crime is through the roof people stop caring about frivolous topics. First and foremost people want safety, security, jobs, and a working economy. In times of scarcity, climate change, race, race, race, race, race, race, and socialist spending are not high on peoples list of concerns. It will be interesting to see what the democrats do in response. At the moment the progressive wing is claiming the problem was that they didn’t go hard enough on progressive demands. We’ll see how that works out.
  • COP26 has wrapped up and the end result was… nothing. Zip. Zero. Nada. Not a single accomplishment. Oh, how will the climate survive? The two biggest greenhouse gas emitters chose not to attend. Too busy building out coal fired electrical power plants I suppose. The African countries did make it clear that they’re pissed though. Why? We’ve reneged again on the 2009 pledge to pay them 100 billion a year to “cope with climate change”. Clearly John Kerry wasn’t on top of his game this year. But hey, at least he got to take his private plane out for a spin again. Along with 400 others carbon spewing planes, 85 car caravans, and massive gala dinners (where I’m sure they at least used paper straws).
  • This trip we took was the first time I’ve traveled out of state since the pandemic started. My state is mostly anti-mask and I haven’t had to wear a mask anywhere (other than work) for a long time. Traveling to California is different… mask mandates everywhere, vaccine cards required to eat inside restaurants. Masks in the airport and on the plane. And all of it is just theater. Wearing a mask to walk twenty feet into a restaurant only to take it off at the table is absurd. Sigh… and the plane – both Mrs Troutdog and I were scolded by flight attendants several times for letting our masks drop. Until food and drink service arrived – then yay! Everyone can eat, drink, talk and cough. The ‘rona is smart enough not to spread while you’re eating and drinking. I still cannot grasp that our public officials continue to push this nonsense. If you had told me two years ago that the entire country would soon think it was normal to walk around outside with a mask on your face, I would have sworn you were smoking something.
  • Speaking of smoking something, California is one of the states who has legalized the ‘herb. It was odd to see marijuana dispensaries on every corner. I could care less. I do wish there was a test or definition for what “under the influence” was, but otherwise each to their own. It may or may not be true that the bottle of vitamin gummies that came back no longer contains “vitamins”. The challenge at our age is remembering to grab the right bottle when taking the morning vitamin regime.

Song of the day: Macka B Legalize the herb

Not Enough Electronics

Sitting here at my desk, I’m surrounded by an array of cords, chargers, batteries, and electronic devices. I don’t think I realized how dependent upon devices we’ve become until I did my last trip on the ginormous motorcycle. Here is the complete list of electronic things that had to be managed at the end of each day:

  • Helmet communications system. Due to a weird system requirement of Android Auto, the motorcycle’s GPS/mapping won’t work without the helmet communication. This got charged first each night.
  • Phone. Duh.
  • A giant bag of GoPro batteries. GoPro batteries last approximately 27 seconds so you need quite a few of them for all-day filming. I probably shouldn’t bother because anytime I came upon something interesting, the GoPro battery would be dead and I wouldn’t be in a spot where I could pull over and change them.
  • DSLR batteries. They last slightly longer than GoPro batteries. Unless it’s cold. Cut cold weather battery time in half. Then to be safe, assume it’s half of that.
  • InReach satellite device. I use it so folks can track my location/progress in real time. Plus it has the handy “Oh Shit” SOS button that I pray I never have to use.
  • Backup GPS device. Because I’m positive that the one time I really need to figure out my location my phone will die, I carry a handheld GPS. Just in case. Doesn’t mean I know how to use it, but at least I have it.
  • Kindle. I like to read. Unfortunately my Kindle is at least a decade old and the battery lasts less than a day.

Each of those devices has it’s own cord and charger. At the end of each day’s ride, my motel room would have cords and devices plugged into every outlet in the room. It looked like an FBI sting operation preparing to eavesdrop on some Jan 6 Boogaloo Bois. How have we gotten to the point that it takes this many electronics just to go for a ride?

Here’s where I do the standard old man, “when I was a kid”… Seriously, when I was a kid you got a paper map. If you were serious you had a fancy road atlas. You had to drive with the map spread out on the passenger seat, stealing glances at it from time to time to make sure you were on the right road. See an interesting sight? Pull out your trusty instamatic camera (no battery) and snap a pic. When the roll was done you’d drop it off at the drug store and come back a week later to see if any of the pictures came out.

The closest to a GPS device was the wonderous AAA Triptik. We’d go to the local office and describe the trip and route we were taking. Come back a few days later and they’d have a narrow spiral bound map book printed for you showing the route. You’d follow along bottom to top, then flip the page. As a kid I’d spend hours before the trip going through the book, looking at the route and all the cities and sights on the map.

Here’s something that will blow the younger readers minds. Imagine this scenario. You need to find a part for something. There’s no computers, internet, or cell phones. You’d pull out the trusty yellow pages and try to find stores that might have what you’re looking for. You’d have to call each of the stores to see if they had what you need. If it was a store someplace on the other side of town where you’d never been before, you’d pull out the map and figure out where it was. It wasn’t uncommon to have to call the store back and figure out the closest large cross-streets so you could locate it on the map. My strategy was to write down all the street names and turns on piece of paper so I wouldn’t have to look at the map while driving (safety first!). It seems so strange to think about, now that we have instant look-up and same-day Amazon delivery.

We’ve certainly come a long way. Progress is a good thing. Although I’m questioning if I really need that many electronics to go on a trip? Of course the answer is yes. Oh, and I’m contemplating adding another motorcycle-specific GPS to the bike. And then come winter I’ll need the heated vest that will have to be recharged each night. And when I go off-grid, that requires battery power blocks and solar panels to keep everything charged. I’ll soon need a chase vehicle to follow me with all my electronics and gear.

What’s the point of all of this? There really isn’t a point other than I was thinking about it while I was watching some money management, minimalist lifestyle advocate last night on YouTube. He was describing the three things that are worth spending money on. Number one? Experiences. Buying meaningless stuff in an attempt to keep up with the Jones won’t bring you happiness. But spending money on a trip or an activity that provides lasting memories or experiences does give long term happiness. You’re only here once, go make the most of it.

What’s Your Risk Tolerance?

  • I just got back from a four day road trip on the ginormous motorcycle. It was a fantastic trip with a couple of “bucket list” rides. I mentioned in my last post that I almost cancelled due to a threat of inclement weather. Sure enough, day one I got caught in a pretty severe rain and hailstorm. Let’s just say that large hail at 60 mph on a motorcycle hurts! The important part is that I survived and it wasn’t nearly as scary as I’d built it up to be in my head. I rode a few other sections that were high speed highway (70 and 80 mph speed limits) with plenty of large semi’s and some high winds. Serious white knuckle time in the beginning, but I wasn’t thinking about it much towards the end of the day. The point is that the unknown is scary and it’s easy to let that fear get the better of you when try to visualize what it’s going to be like. I guarantee that most of the time reality will prove to be nothing like the horrible scenarios you let run away in your imagination.
  • Which leads me to my question on risk tolerance. Pushing through fear is all well and good, but you still need to do a reasonable risk assessment of the situation. A brand new motorcycle rider attempting a busy freeway on his first day is stupid. The lack of skill makes the risk factor way too high. So how do you evaluate risk? When it comes to hiking, backpacking, mountain biking, I have a reasonable amount of life experience. I’m an RN, was a member of a search and rescue team for years, comfortable with navigation, and feel pretty comfortable with knowing my physical limits. My risk tolerance for hiking in the backcountry is pretty high. Barring serious injury, I’m not terribly worried about surviving a few days if something went wrong. I’m reasonably confident I could put myself in a position to be found or self-rescue. More importantly, I feel like I’m less likely to put myself in a bad position in the first place. Most of our rescues on the SAR team were for people who had no idea they were even putting themselves at risk until it was too late.
  • Which brings me back to the ginormous motorcycle. I have many years of riding experience. Unfortunately most of it was simply commuting back and forth to work. The long road trips are new to me, but I feel like I still have enough overall street experience in those scenarios to make good risk assessments. But what I really want to do is spend more time riding in the backcountry. I have no dirt experience. At what point, when riding by myself, am I being stupid? Most of my fears revolve around being stranded. A crash or other mechanical issue that disables the bike. Dropping the bike and not being able to pick it up. A navigation error and running out of fuel or getting into a scenario I’m not capable of riding. Now what? With the motorcycle it’s easy to go distances beyond a simple hike out.
  • So, do I not go out by myself? Do I simply start slowly and go a little further each time? Do I spend days beforehand making a battle plan with every possible scenario for each ride? At some point that’s no longer fun. On one hand, what’s the worst that could happen? Again, assuming no serious injury, the bike breaks down and I’m stuck. A few days of hiking or until someone finds me. While it would suck, very survivable. It’s extremely rare that someone goes missing and perishes before being found. But that’s not a fair burden to put on loved ones waiting at home, thinking the worst.
  • At what point are you being so cautious you’re limiting activities due to fear of the unknown? At what point are you placing yourself needlessly at risk because you failed to adequately prepare and didn’t recognize that you were in over your head? For me I think the answer will be to go slow and over-prepare initially. Of course I’ll seek out more experienced riding partners… but I don’t want to sit at home waiting for that to happen. The other option is to sign up for one of the various riding schools and learn/improve my dirt skills. I suppose I should do that regardless. How do you evaluate risk? Pro’s/con’s on a spreadsheet? Avoid it at all costs? Just do it and whatever happens, happens? I’m honestly curious how others evaluate risk?

Song of the day: Lily Allen | The Fear

I Feel Kinda Guilty

  • Our hospital is in the midst of a horrible staffing shortage. Every day I receive texts from unit supervisors pleading for folks to come in because the floor is short staffed. They offer overtime, premium pay, Covid pay, any combination of hours you want. I delete the texts immediately. Yesterday, while at work, the floor unit coordinator came to me and asked if there was any way I could work tomorrow? I actually would have said yes, but I’m leaving on a trip today on the ginormous motorcycle. I felt a little bad telling her no, but I did have a legitimate reason. Later that night I got an SOS text message from the hospital. They were so short staffed, patients were being treated in ambulances parked in the emergency room bays because there were no beds or staff available to bring them into the hospital. Supervisors were pleading for anyone available to come into work. I felt pretty guilty after reading that. My coworkers are going to have a horrible shitshow of a day today and I’ll be off playing. I don’t feel bad for the hospital, but I don’t like feeling as if I’ve let my coworkers down.
  • In my previous life as an engineer for mega-corp software company, I fully embraced the do or die for the company attitude. I never took time off. There was always some project that, if we just worked really hard for another few months, we’d deliver to the customer and then everyone can relax and take time off. And then we’d miss that deadline. And another. I had hundreds of hours of accumulated vacation time, never used. It was so bad Mrs Troutdog and I actually bought a time-share in Mexico thinking that at least that will force us to take a vacation once a year. We went quite a few years with that warped sense of priorities. Slowly it began to dawn on me that the corporation doesn’t care about you. Oh sure, they pay lip service to “our employees are our strongest link” and other such happy horseshit. Eventually you realize that you’re just a cog in the wheel. I don’t care how important you think you are to the company, if you leave you’ll be forgotten within the week and someone else will take your place. Work hard, do a good job, but realize that any company exists to make a profit and it’s their job to extract every last ounce of work and time from the employees. You can be replaced at any moment. Take all of your vacation time. Stay at a company only as long as it’s benefiting you. If another opportunity comes up, take it. Life is too short to waste it thinking the corporation actually cares about you. I know that sounds terribly negative. Yes, there are companies out there that treat their employees fantastically. Just don’t lose sight of that fact that you are still just an employee and your life is not work.
  • Today I leave for another multi-day trip on the ginormous motorcycle. And sure enough, all of a sudden the forecast is now calling for strong winds and a chance of thunderstorms this afternoon. My brain immediately thought, oh I should probably cancel and go another time. I have to continually remind myself not to be that guy anymore. Don’t let fears get in the way of experiences. If it rains, then I’ll get a little wet. So what? Am I really going to postpone a trip because conditions may not be perfect? I always thought I was a semi-adventurous person. Looking back, my “adventures” were only well within my comfort zone and with activities and places I knew well. On my own I’d rarely try something new or go someplace completely unknown. The “new” things and adventures I’d do were with friends who were experienced and able to lead and plan the activity. It’s amazing how ingrained worry about the unknown can be if you you’ve spent a lifetime being cautious. So, I’m going to hop on the bike and go. Maybe I’ll get wet and the ride might be miserable. Maybe I won’t find much sightseeing and this will end up being days spent being bored in crappy motels. Maybe the bike will break down and I’ll get stuck on the side of the road with no cell service. All of that may happen. But I’ll never know if I don’t try.
  • The interesting balance that I need to learn to strike is at what point is a “just do it” mentality crossing the line into a stupid risk scenario? This weeks adventure is just a road trip to a handful of smaller towns. Probably a few areas with limited cell coverage. Very little risk, other than being on a motorcycle. The other type of riding I really enjoy is dirt and getting into the backcountry. I did a ride a few days ago where I ventured a ways into the forest. Nothing dramatic, but far enough away from civilization that a breakdown or a crash starts having more potential for bad outcomes. On this ride I still saw a few vehicles and if I had to I could have hiked out pretty easily. But the trips I really want to do are much further in the backcountry. At what point is doing a ride like that by myself becoming too risky? At the moment, those fears of the unknown are overcoming the “just do it” attitude. I suppose time and more experience on the bike will dictate how far I’ll push my risk scenarios.
  • My last trip (which was also my first one) on the ginormous motorcycle went mostly undocumented. Just a few pics from my phone. I didn’t want to deal with cameras, video, or more electronics than necessary. I wanted to concentrate on riding and just absorbing the experience. This time I think I’ll try to make a video. I’m not entirely sure how to go about it. I’m no Ken Burns. Most of my video footage ends up being two hours of nothing but a view of the gas tank because I didn’t realize the camera moved. We’ll see how this goes.

Song of the day: The Big Push – These boots are made for walking’ / Satisfaction / Everybody

It’s In The Books

It’s done. I’ve been babbling about, prepping for, and anticipating this moment for quite a while now. The first official “summer of George” event. If you haven’t been following along, I made the decision a while ago that I wanted to explore, travel, and see small town America. I’ve been preparing for this for far too long. I purchased a ginormous new motorcycle and began outfitting it with the things needed for on and off road travel. I put in a thousand miles of short, local rides to get used to the bike and improve my riding skills. I sorted through navigation equipment issues, backordered equipment, and some challenging mechanical installation problems. Finally, everything was ready.

In my part of the world, we’ve had a vexing spring. Extremely windy, wet, and lingering snowmelt. This has delayed any sort of real trip. But the weather finally broke and summer arrived. As is customary in my state, we went from cold, wet, and windy to a hundred degrees overnight. Sigh. I’d managed to pick the week for my first trip with record high temps forecast. I was going to postpone until the following week and then saw a post on Instagram from David Goggins. If you don’t know who he is, it’s worth reading his book. Former SEAL, lost over a hundred pounds just to make the teams. Had to go through BUD’s/hell week three times due to injuries. He’s kinda crazy, but still manages to be very motivating. Anyway, out of the blue he posted this on the day I was contemplating postponing:

“Don’t be the person that looks at the weather report the night before to decide what you are going to do the next day. What that means is don’t be the person who sees if it is going to rain or snow or be too hot or cold and make your decision off of that forecast. Whatever Mother Nature puts in front of you, go out and attack it.”

Well damn. I guess I’m not much of an adventurer if I have to wait for the perfect forecast. So… the next day I kissed Mrs Troutdog goodbye and left. Now, it’s not like I was heading off into the wilderness for a week (that’s still to come). The purpose of the trip was twofold. First was to see if equipment worked, can I navigate without too much hassle (on a motorcycle it’s not like you can work a map/GPS while driving like you can with a car), and how will I do with hours in the saddle. The second, and perhaps more important, will I even like this sort of travel? Will I make the effort to stop and take pictures? Will multiple days on the road, alone, get to be too much? Did I just waste a crapload of money on something that I don’t even like?

In short, I didn’t know what to expect. I worried that I’d built all this up a bit too much in my head. I’ve watched many YouTube videos of cross country travelers who make it look easy. Riding from town to town, interacting with interesting locals, taking fabulous pictures, dining at quirky out of the way spots… what if this isn’t what I find? Enough with the suspense.. while my short trip wasn’t a soul-changing experience, I had a blast.

The equipment mostly all worked as expected. A few minor tweaks are still needed. I didn’t get lost. I saw almost all the sights I’d planned on seeing. Survived riding 700+ miles over three days in near 100 degree temps. Made it through 180 miles of high speed, brutal crosswinds and double (and triple!) trailer semi-trucks nearly blowing me out of my lane. Got a few pictures. Talked to a few people. Stopped and helped a guy stranded with a couple dogs and no water. Confirmed that I am able to travel alone and pushed through my introvert tendency to not make an effort to stop and see something or talk to someone because I’m by myself.

Not everything was a magical experience. It was hot. Traveling on a motorcycle can be a pain in the ass. See something you want to take a picture of? Find a place to stop and park the bike where it won’t fall over. Pull off sweaty gloves and helmet. Unplug the phone and or pull the camera out of the tank bag. Clomp around in heavy motorcycle boots, getting hotter and hotter because there’s now no airflow going through your riding suit. Take your picture. Put everything back on, reconnect things, get ridding again while unzipping to get air flowing again. Tiny little towns in the middle of nowhere aren’t always charming. Sometimes they’re just rundown spots on the road. When those little towns only have one motel for $40 a night… well, you can imagine that it’s not the Hyatt.

So all in all, was this the life changing experience I’d pictured? Maybe not life changing, but I loved it. I proved to myself that I can take off alone on an adventure, explore, and make the most of whatever I encounter. I feel like I accomplished something. I wished I’d make a video because there were moments on the road where I was seeing some jaw dropping beauty that is hard to describe. Early morning and come around a corner as the only vehicle on the road, to see a majestic mountain range lit up by the early morning sun is worth the price of admission. Images and experiences you won’t get sitting on the couch.

It’s amazing how inhibiting fear of the unknown is. Worries about weather, getting lost, what if I don’t like it, being by myself – all things that if you spend too much time thinking about, will stop you from doing the actual thing. But if you push past the worry about the unknown, you’ll find that most everything you worried about was no big deal. I’m left with excitement for whatever my next trip will be. It seems silly, but getting the first one out of the way was a big weight off my mind. Why oh why didn’t I do this sooner? As I’ve said many times – we’re only here once, so you may as well make the most of it.

A Sacrificial Offering

  • I’ve clearly managed to piss off someone, I’m just not sure who. We’ve had a pretty crappy spring, weather-wise. Cold, rain, and a ridiculous amount of wind. I hate the wind. It’s been windy virtually every day for what seems like months. And not just “breezy” wind, but 20-30 mile an hour winds in the afternoon. Being on a bike or motorcycle in that sort of wind just saps the fun out of everything. I spent too much time this morning trying to figure out what gods I need to appease. Being of Swedish heritage, naturally I first turned to the Norse god Njoror, but his background is really complicated and he leans towards providing wind for sailors. The Aztec god Cihuatecayotl is the god of the west wind, so he seems like a good candidate. Plus, the Aztecs were into the whole sacrifice thing. I haven’t looked into it extensively, but unfortunately I suspect sacrifices are frowned upon in our neighborhood covenants. Perhaps I can just go with a Sopranos style payoff. Meet some intermediary god at a park bench and slip him an envelope. Anyone know the going rate for 3-4 weeks with no wind?
  • I haven’t written much lately. My outrage reservoir overfilled and shorted out the main circuit board. I’ll read and watch the news, feel my outrage temperature rising, sit down to write (vent), and boom, it simply shuts off. I’ll be filled with an overwhelming feeling that there’s simply no point in writing or even thinking about the outrage of the day. I’m not sure if it’s apathy, sensory overload, or just interested in other things, but it’s been hard to figure out what, if anything, I want to write about. I think staying away from nonstop outrage and contrarian thinking may be a healthier choice. Life is too short to sacrifice many brain cycles to crap we can’t do anything about anyway.
  • The travel plans on the ginormous motorcycle have been stalled for multiple reasons. One is weather (see wind rant). Another has been parts outfitting. We’re almost done there. The last piece has been luggage. The bags I ordered were on backorder, but supposedly would be available again at the beginning of this month. I contacted them a week ago and they said another 7-10 days. Fingers crossed. The luggage delay did work out because the bike was due for it’s first service, and due to our massive influx in population, the shop was booked out a month. I finally got that done yesterday, so the bike is good to go. The delay also let me work on improving my riding skills confidence. I’ve spent some time in the dirt now and am really starting to feel better. Now I just have to actually commit to my first trip.
  • A myriad of health issues have plagued me lately, which I will detail for you in excruciating detail at another time. One of them however deserves a special mention because it illustrates how dorky I really am. I developed a neuroma on my foot, which causes a sharp, hot poker stabbing sensation when I run, play golf, etc… I got desperate enough to consult Dr’s Google and YouTube for my diagnosis and treatment. I believe that the root cause was years of shoes that were too small and had too narrow of a toe box. My toes are all janky, overlapping, and I have terrible bunions. The non-surgical solution is something called toe spreaders worn in shoes that look suspiciously like Ronald McDonald clown feet. I’ve been wearing them for a week and so far the neuroma seems to be a bit better. So my only real complaint is one of fashion. Google “natural toe box shoe” and see what comes up. Why do all minimalist and natural fitting shoes have to be so ungodly ugly? Sigh.
  • I got kicked at work the other day. We had a patient who went absolutely batshit crazy (drugs and untreated psych issues) and had to be restrained. We got the patient tied down and I went back to my patients. I got a call a while later to come help and sure enough this patient had managed to get out of all but one restraint. We had about eight people in the room waiting for security to arrive, while the patient frantically tried to get the remaining restraint off. I started getting worried what would happen if he got free and started running amuck in the room. So each time he reached over to try and undo the restraint I’d reach in and move his hand. Every time I did that he’d screech and try to bite me. We did that five or six times until the next time I started to reach in he gave a lightning fast roundhouse kick. I jumped back, but my cat-like reflexes have slowed a bit in my old age. He caught me on my upper thigh. Grrrr. Security arrived and we swarmed him, multiple people on each limb and got restraints reapplied. Funny, I don’t remember reading this chapter in school. I must have been out that day. I’m not sure what was worse, the kick or the amount of paperwork and interviews that had to be done afterwards.
  • An ode to trying new things.

Song of the day: R.E.M. – Shiny Happy People (Official Music Video) I never realized that Kate Pierson of the B-52’s collaborated on this.