I made my first journey at three. If my mother was to be believed, I waddled out of the backyard and down the street to the bus stop. I leveraged myself up onto the first step of the Michigan Street bus. The bus driver bolted out of his seat, head swiveling, looking for a pursuer.
Mom soon caught up with me and, in an embarrassed flurry, reeled me in.
Mom is not here to reel me in this morning.
I doubt that she would try.
I am leaving for the Mojave Desert, the first leg of a back-road motorcycle meander across the country to Michigan. I feel like a five-year-old at the top of the stairs on Christmas Eve. Nervous to be sure, although I choose to call it “excited.”
I have no set route beyond North and East. More than enough. The road will show me, one intersection at a time.
The kids threatened to plant a dog-locating microchip in me if I didn’t promise to check in with them each evening. Location and status, maybe a picture. They plan to post the info on this blog page and on my business FaceBook page (https://www.facebook.com/johnrobertotterbacher/).
Please feel free to share them with anyone interested in crazy…
For my part, it’s roll now, rest later. Look around. Report back.
Thursday May 12th, 2016
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