[x_section style=”margin: 0px 0px 0px 0px; padding: 45px 0px 45px 0px; “][x_row inner_container=”true” marginless_columns=”false” bg_color=”” style=”margin: 0px auto 0px auto; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_column bg_color=”” type=”1/2″ style=”padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_counter num_start=”0″ num_end=”2″ num_speed=”1500″ num_prefix=”” num_suffix=”” num_color=”#2ecc71″ text_above=”Rode for” text_below=”Hours” text_color=””][x_gap size=”45px” class=”x-hide-xl x-hide-lg x-hide-md “][/x_column][x_column bg_color=”” type=”1/2″ style=”padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_counter num_start=”0″ num_end=”90″ num_speed=”1500″ num_prefix=”” num_suffix=”” num_color=”#3498db” text_above=”Covered” text_below=”Miles” text_color=””][/x_column][/x_row][/x_section][x_section style=”margin: 0px 0px 0px 0px; padding: 45px 0px 45px 0px; “][x_row inner_container=”true” marginless_columns=”false” bg_color=”” style=”margin: 0px auto 0px auto; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_column bg_color=”” type=”1/1″ style=”padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_text]I awake cold. Feel around in the dark for the extra blanket. Turning on the headlamp, I see Baylor has somehow commandeered it. Tucked it entirely beneath himself. Lips limp from slumber, he snores lightly. Sighing, I dig for an extra sweatshirt, pull on wool socks. The level of adorableness has reached new heights; I simply can’t disturb him.
Sun filtering through the trees we enter the dense, dry forest. Walk along the path, explore the lakeshore, stretch our legs.
Pulling onto the highway I note how the weather is perfect for a day of riding. Hot when we stop, but pleasantly warm when cruising along. Cotton-fluff clouds floating calmly across the cerulean expanse.
Entering Joplin, I head for a coffee shop that could be the perfect office for the day. Circle the building, leave disappointed. The mid-day sun beats down and there’s not a shady spot in sight for Baylor. On to the next.
Laptop open, Baylor snoozing happily on the covered patio, I clock-in, get to work.
Replanted inside, near an outlet, I look up as the man at the counter turns to the shop. Is that anyone’s sidecar outside?
Years of structured schooling taking over, I raise my hand, Yessir, it’s mine.
I learn that Alan once built a sidecar, went on quite the adventure with his son. We talk about the weirdness of hacks. The fun and hassle of adventure. The goodness of people on the road.
There’s something satisfying about doing something unusual and then finding other people that have done the same. An instant knowing that despite all of our differences, we clearly have something in common. A recognition that someone understands your particular brand of crazy.
And really, that’s all any of us want in life. To show our deepest, truest, weirdest selves understood. To have someone get, like it even.
At the end of the day, we all just want to be seen.
106 days down. Many to come.
[/x_text][/x_column][/x_row][/x_section]