Traveling by motorcycle is enlightening to say the least. The journey to the destination unknown somehow becomes a larger percentage of the whole. Riding a motorcycle filters all of the fluff and chatter of life out, leaving only the purest of experiences to be realized by the senses. Removing two wheels from the equation has a strange multiplication effect, akin to movement squared. There is a saying, “that you never see a motorcycle parked in front of a therapist’s office”, and it is seemingly poignant and true. When I saddle up and head out on a ride the journey is enhanced, I am able to see, smell, and sense things that are out there just beyond the reach of populated society. When I ride with my wife, even though she is rolling along on her own two wheels, we somehow seem more connected than if we were sitting side by side in the cage.
We tour on our bikes religiously, somewhat. During the past five years, riding has been our predominant method of travel, seeking out many of the abandoned places that call to me on a most frequent basis. We have laid tracks down across the southern half of this Province, as well as dipping regularly into the North Western States to the South. It seems apparent, as we hug the corners of the twisty and winding roads in search of these obscure places that somewhere there is a correlation between the quality and fluidity of the paved path and what lies along the roads periphery and beyond.
I should note, that it matters little exactly what you ride……as long as you attempt to ride at least once in your life. I have owned and ridden an assortment of motorcycles in my time, all of which had the necessary goods in common… two wheels, and the ability to allow me to exist in the open air. From the previous incarnation of laid back freedom that were our chrome clad cruisers, to the newest evolution of our riding experience: the ever so sleek and technologically advanced sporty bikes, they have all taken us down the pavement to where we desired in a manner that is unparalleled by any other motorized vehicle.
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Where the motorcycles find their limitations in the traversing gravel back roads that branch off the paved surfaces they dine on, our newest addition relish’s the off road paths that we seek out. The Jeep has allowed us to venture further into the vast wilderness than ever before, while doing so in a manner that still provides a level of excitement and fun that we crave. The Jeep itself is a beast created to explore, its internal guidance system seems pre-programmed to search and navigate the roughest and most overgrown of back roads. These roads, if you can call them that, exist as little more than a small dotted line on any given map.
Minerals, ironically, bury themselves in the hearts and bellies of mountain ranges, and deep into the dark valleys that lay between. Prospectors and miners would willingly trek into these inhospitable places for weeks and months by foot alone, shadowed by their pack mules looking for the tell tale signs that inform them hopefully there is indeed ”gold is in them thar hills”. I am fortunate that we are able to safely and effectively trace their routes in our little red 4x4. We can locate, witness, and explore the remnants of their dream for a better life left behind, and still return home in the evening to enjoy a hot dinner, cold beverage, and a warm bed.
The Jeep is the definition of utilitarian. There are no power windows, power door locks, or thick sound proofing to quash the noises that emanate from below. Every input is met with an immediate output, accompanied by mechanical voices from within. It is purpose built for my needs. I am able to remove both the roof and doors within 15 minutes, and with the carpet removed the entire floor can be hosed down for a quick and effective cleaning. (Try that with an Escalade) It will climb to the heavens, and forge a path thru a river like a salmon returning home to spawn. Its short wheelbase seems a forethought of genius, as it allows us to effortlessly snake up the hairpin turn laden routes cut into the sides of mountains a century ago by the hands of men as hard as the rock they mined.
While the vehicles we use are in reality inert objects, manufactured of steel, rubber, and plastic, what they offer is a catalyst between my obsessive desires to search out the unexpected and the hidden gems of time passed by itself.
Loving the reads Bro!
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