[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]As a child I had a rule. “I visit places during the day, but go home at night,” I’d announce as the sun lowered. I’ve never really grown out of this, which I suppose is why I like road tripping so much. In the way of the turtle, I get to adventure but still take my home with me.
So it comes as no surprise that even though it’s one in the morning and the sun has finally gone down, I’m trying to figure out a way to fix things. Get back to my camp. Be home for the night.
After the fun of the softball game, I’d followed the guides back to their base. In a lapse of sound judgement, I trailed the jeep up the dark, uneven hill. As punishment for this lapse, I didn’t see a rock as it knocked squarely into the attachment link of the sidecar.
Despite my fervid desire to return home, I give into the advice given. Lie down for a couple hours fitful rest, until the sun rises once again and I can spread out my tools. Put things back together. Regain a semblance of control.
Fighting uneven terrain and muddy conditions, I attach the sidecar to the best of my ability. I jump on the links, take a test drive. It holds steady. Should get us the six miles back to camp where I can give it a level ground reassessment.
Driving cautiously, I’m hyper-aware of every turn. The lean out is definitely too extreme. The angles of the attachments not quite right. I feel a slight shift in the bike, slow even more. The sidecar slumps down. Jerking to the left, I kick out my leg. Apply the brakes evenly and pull off to the right. Breathing hard, heart pumping I look at Baylor. He’s calmly lying in his sidecar home, wondering what all of the hullabaloo is about.
With help from a camp friend, the sidecar is reattached, reinforced with ratchet straps. We inch slowly towards Hope.
Having tweaked my knee during the jerky kick, I limp to the tent. Pile all of my squishy belongings around me, creating a nest of recuperation. There’s plenty of daylight left, but I know I should take my own advice, exit the mistake cascade and just start fresh in the morning.
Left hand full of silky dog ear, I crack open the book with my right. Begin to feel less crazy. Or at least in good crazy company, as I read of the men and women who push the extremes of flight. Who don wing suits and jump off cliffs. Who take something that people dismissed as impossible and make it reality.
Perhaps as the world is modernized, the unknown minimized, those of us with pioneer genes simply have to find ways to push the limits. The outcome unknown and at times risky. The journey an unforgettable ride of exploration. The current of adventure leading to places, people and abilities never before dreamt.
I drift to sleep full of adventurous hope. Grateful for my furry bestie. Relieved to spend the night at home.
31 days down. Many to come.[/x_text][/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_line][x_creative_cta padding=”25px 25px 25px 25px” text=”Read More from
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