A warm day in February was once the things dreams were made of. I would spend the work week watching the weather forecast for a day predicted to reach  50F. Gradually, that number increased. Whether because of age or whether because of the novelty of riding slowly faded, what was considered a warm day in February gradually changed. And here we are….70-something in February. No excuses.

Deals Gap — February 23, 2012 — A warm day in February. This was once the thing dreams were made of.

I’ve been gradually assembling my kit through the winter months. I have always enjoyed camping off the bike. I am no stranger to it. For some reason, the motivation has left me. And that is how I know I am depressed. The reset that is coming is badly needed. In the meantime, I have to force myself to do it; enjoy motorcycle camping, that is. Convincing myself to gear up, drag the bike out, pack it, and get on it on a 70-degree day in February should’t be this hard. It is really hard, but I manage to do it anyway.

A shakedown run shouldn’t feel like a chore.

I struggle with whether I deserve this trip or not. Am I deserving of such a life-altering experience? Have I earned it? Why do I get to quit work and do something so crazy, expensive, irresponsible, reckless? Why should I get to do this while my wife stays home and in her daily grind? What makes me so special? With all of this static in the helmet, it becomes difficult to enjoy the ride. This is supposed to bring me peace. This was once therapy. The main antagonist is in the helmet with me; once a place he could not penetrate. It’s a very small space to share and an even smaller place for combat. Should be an interesting 6000 miles. I doubt my opponent can last that long. Can I?