Pre-ride Post - FAQs

While I may not fully comprehend the undertaking that I am about to attempt, over the past week it has been made clearly evident that those around me do. The words that have been used to describe this journey are leaving a resounding mark of discomfort within me. The discomfort is by no means negative; it is simply foreign and leaves me twisting in a sense of unexpected pride and humility.

The planning and preparation of this trip seems to have suspended me in a state of cruise control. I’ve been standing in a corner watching a person who resembles me make decisions and take actions, answer questions and receive vast amounts of unanticipated attention. For me, it feels out of character. For me, this is what other people do. Yet I still move forward with this disbelief, propelled by a promise.

Many questions have been asked of late and they are, if nothing else, universal. Until I saddle up on 2/18, this first (of hopefully many) post will try to answer some of your questions.

“When/how do you leave?” – I leave from the airport on 2/14 (the fact that it’s on V-day is nothing more than a coincidence that plasters the greatest of sh!t eating grins across my face) to fly to Burbank. I will pick up my bike from a nearby HD dealer, to which it was shipped. After a couple of days of prep, I saddle-up on 2/18 to begin the journey. The highway and I will own each other until the end of July.

“Do you have a route planned?” - Not really. I have an idea. I do know that I am going to attempt to travel the entire U.S. perimeter, riding as close to a border or coastline as I can possibly ride. As long as there is a paved road, I will be on it. The first leg of the trip will be starting in Los Angeles and riding south. Paralleling the Mexican border, I’ll eventually hit Brownsville, TX and continue along the coastline until I roll into the Florida Keys. After a couple weeks of SCUBA, shrimp and warm weather, I’ll start making my way up the east coast as the seasons catch up to my mileage. My routes will be planned a couple of days in advance, but I will be truly following my own road. Once I reach L.A. upon my return, I will take historic Route 66 back to Chicago in July. As a trip often talked about taking with Ethan and the boys, this will be the last homage.

“Is this a solo-trip? Are you riding with anybody?” This trip is about a lot of things, but it is not about total isolation and reflection. I welcome anybody that can take some time out to meet me, ride with me or simply spend a few days. Fly out, rent a bike. Wait until I’m close then ride up to meet me and hit the highways for a few days. I welcome anyone and will definitely welcome the company, but currently I am starting on my own.

“Where will you stay?” – Camping mostly. I will be knocking on the doors of friends and family when I am near. Every once in a while, I’ll grab a motel for the illusion of a fresh bed and to shave my perpetual face-fuzz. The location of many state parks will help determine my tour, never deviating too far from my original intent.

"What kind of bike are you riding?" - I have a 2009 Harley Davidson V-Rod Muscle. It’s definitely not a touring bike, so it will be an interesting experience. Given that I don’t have a back-rest, furry seat cushion, killer sound-system or a lot of storage room, this isn't your traditional set up for a long-haul.

“Do you have any gear, bags…where do you put your stuff?” – I have 2 saddle bags on the bike which will hold a few changes of clothes. I have a duffle bag that will strap to the backseat. In that bag, my camp gear and tools. I’ll also have a backpack for my camera, net book and other objects of the sort. Obviously, there have been many reflective moments as I get this thing rolling, but one that growls out of the rest, is the realization that my life, for 6 months, fits on a coffee table.

“Where is PETE going to go?!” – Pete will be staying with my dad and family in Milwaukee. This is undoubtedly the toughest part of this trip. Even with his constant shedding that rivals a Yeti after a visit to the barbershop, he is my shadow, my buddy, my smile after a long day and my unconditional love. I’ve not had a dog as incredible as Pete and the absence of having his cold nose flip my hand up for some pets or having that same universal tool be shoved up my bum as I walk down the hallway for 6 months is going to be a rough road to travel. He will be in the best hands though and have a constant wrestling companion in their black lab Kera.

“What about your apartment?” – Keeping it. Too much of a pain in the ass to come back from this and try and get a new one. So if there is anything you’d like to borrow – aside from the TV, you have 6 months.

“What does your family think?” – Wow. This was perhaps the greatest surprise of all. Support. Nothing but support. I barely got the story out before my dad had offered to watch Pete. My mom, while having standard mom worries, supports me as well. The rest of the family probably is getting tested for mental disorders, just in case it’s genetic, but they haven’t let me know and have given me nothing but full support, with the obligatory sentiments of “be safe and be careful.”

“How does this work in regards to your job?” – Again, nothing but support, which is astounding to me and a testament to the integrity of the company that I work for. Since this isn’t a medical leave, I will be unpaid. I will be able to roll over vacation from last year and use that for a while. While nothing about my return is guaranteed, my co-workers are eagerly awaiting my arrival in August and look forward to having me back.

“Are you going to shave or cut your hair?” – Will I go nomad? Will I go castaway? Only time will tell if these blonde locks will be flowing like Fabio or if I more resemble the cacti that I’ll be riding along side in the southwest.

“Are you nervous?” -F@ck yes. I’d be a fool not to be nervous or respect the situations that I will be facing. I will be as safe as I can make myself. I will anticipate situations that are within my power. I will wear leather and a helmet. As great of a trip this will be, there are inherent dangers that I must give the proper attention and respect to. To ignore them would be ignorant and potentially disastrous.

“How does it feel to not be going to work for 6 months?” – THE QUESTION on everyone’s mind. Well, on the surface it feels pretty good. But truthfully, it hasn’t set in and am unsure of what to expect. What will it be like to give it all up? The late nights, the control, the accomplishments…but more importantly, the people, my team, the complacency and the comfort… Maybe I’ll tackle these questions in a few weeks. However, last night as I lay in bed thinking about the most exhaustively wonderful week that I just experienced, memories swam. I thought about the friends that came out to send me off. I thought of new possibilities and opportunities that seemingly came out of nowhere. I thought about the complete selflessness, generosity and support of others that was born from 5 days of drinking and it humbled me. There was also a feeling of tremendous release, as if someone had crept into the darkness of my bedroom and snipped the strings of my soul’s straight-jacket. And then there was an overwhelming elation that I don’t have to go to a bar today.

This should answer some of your questions. I’ll be happy to answer any more that you have…just as soon as I figure out the true power of this fully armed and operational blog. Please share this blog with anyone who may find it interesting.

“The bike may break me. The road may take me. But I will forever be alive knowing that I followed the road paved by my heart.”