St. Louis Routine – Post Mortem

Last Thursday my partner and I took off from Myrtle Beach to visit her family in St. Louis. This was the first real challenge to our health and fitness routine and, overall, things went pretty well. It is always really difficult to keep a food and work-out schedule while travelling, particularly when four out of the seven days we were driving 10ish hours a day. Disrupting the routine also creates opportunities to have a good time (which is kind of the point of increasing our fitness, to have more opportunities to enjoy life), but those opportunities cash in some of the health credits we’ve racked up over the last couple of weeks.

So, here is a rundown of how we did. I don’t have any regrets or anything, though there were areas for improvement next time we travel (probably in mid-September).

Perfect: There were only two areas where I wasn’t disrupted at all… I kept track of my calories and I weighed myself daily (we brought our scale with us).

Pretty Good: We only missed one run day while traveling, which is pretty good. We also only ate out for three meals out of twenty, and we were relatively healthy during those times. My calories were only significantly higher than average on two nights.

Okay: I blogged most days, but missed a couple. My orgasm frequency was also pretty good (which is definitely a challenge when you are staying in other people’s homes). I drank a little bit more beer than I wanted, but it wasn’t anything too crazy and it was only at social occasions.

Needs Improvement: I didn’t do any reading, German practice, meditation, book writing, or working out (except for running). I really don’t have an excuse for this. I was lazy and thrown off by being in a new environment. I also justified slacking because I was “on vacation”, which is kind of true but I need to want to be able to keep some sort of routine even when traveling or on vacation. Life is never ideal.

Overall, I did okay, but I’m excited to get back to Myrtle and into my routine. I am almost a month into our time in Myrtle and it is time for me to re-evaluate my schedule and add more areas for improvement. I’m particularly interested in adding weight-lifting and intermittent fasting into my routine. I also need to really put some thought into things like learning a new language, I don’t seem to have a strong passion or desire for it and I’m not sure if it will provide a good return on investment.

Anyway, life is in flux and we will see what the future brings.

Off to St. Louis

This morning my partner and I took off to visit her family in St. Louis. It is going to take us about two days to drive there, then we are spending three days in STL, and then two days driving back. This is going to be the first real challenge for our workout and health routine. Travel and time away from our kitchen is not ideal for maintaining a consistent health practice, but that is life… things are never going to be perfect and we need to be able to thrive in imperfection.

So far, my biggest concerns are staying consistent with my push-ups, pull-ups (we brought our pull-up bar), and planks. I already struggle with motivation to do those daily and sitting in a car most of the day is not going to help with that. I imagine this is also going to really effect my body’s metabolism because it is used to getting up and going for pretty decent walks 3-4 times per day, in addition to any running we do in the morning. I’m not really going to be too embarrassed or anything to do push-ups at rest stops, any discomfort I had for that type of thing has disappeared due to the bike ride… we spent a lot of morning brushing our teeth and having meals in public, I’m just going to lack motivation. Maybe I can try and shoot for some sort of maintenance exercise instead of my normal routine.

We did shift our running schedule around to be more flexible. Our two rest days each week are now during our driving days, and I’m optimistic that we will keep each other motivated to get up and run while in St. Louis. Our diet is also a small concern… we aren’t going to be nearly as strict as we’ve been for the last three weeks but we are going to eat and drink in moderation. We agreed to confront each other directly if we try to order a second drink on any given night and when we go out to eat we are going to have salads for appetizers and probably share a entree to keep the portions in size with what our bodies are used to. My best case scenario is we don’t lose any ground on our fitness, but I imagine that we will have taken a step or two backwards by the end of the weekend.

That’s okay though. Life is about living and not just preparing for the future. Even if I stumble completely and gorge myself on 3,000 calories of beer and pizza and don’t exercise one day I won’t be mad at myself. All I can do is dust myself off and keep moving forward… and record my progress and measurements for the world to see.

On the Road

I just finished “On the Road” by Jack Kerouac. This novel, which is probably one of the most famous American novels of the era, is the true stories of Kerouac (as Sal Paradise) as he takes four trips across the United States in the late 40’s and early 50’s. I really enjoyed the book and, in several ways, I could relate to a lot of what Kerouac experienced in terms of environment, people, and the spirit of travel in this country. Though, the times have certainly changed in the last 75 years.

I don’t know of Kerouac’s spontaneity was common back then, but if it was then times really have changed in spirit. He and his friends were willing to hitchhike, take buses, and do whatever was necessary to get where they wanted to go. They wanted to get from NY to SF, so they found a way. They rarely had money, so they just figured it out as they went along. They lived in a time when clean water was not readily available, cross-country communication was expensive, money took time to be transferred, and cars were unreliable, but they did what they desired despite the dangers. It is ironic that we currently live in the safest, most stable time in human history but people are more afraid than ever. It has literally never been easier to go on an adventure but people crave security over liberty, even though security is less needed.

Maybe Kerouac and his crew were an exception to the average person living in post-WWII America. Just like some of the people we meet on the road are the exception to modern Americans. Maybe in all generations there is a stable percentage (1%? 5%? 10%?) that have an insatiable drive to explore, experience, and wander, even at the expense of their sanity or their lives. I think we need this crazy ones, the ones who explore the depths of our mind and spirit, the Earth and the heavens. They help push humanity forward, as painful as that journey can be, it is necessary to find new barriers to blast all to hell.

Or maybe I’m missing the whole point of “On the Road”.

I’m going to re-read this one soon. It had so many beautiful passages that articulated the extreme emotions you can experience while wandering North America. I know that this book had a huge impact on the Beat Movement (something I know nothing about) and I want to read more of the books from that era. Luckily, Kerouac has given me a cast of characters who mostly all wrote books during that time that I can dive into. All in all, it was a good read that I finally got around to. In some ways I wish I would have read this sooner, but in other ways I’m glad that I finished it when I did. Books seem to come to me at just the right moment in your life, and this one was no exception.

Why Travel?

Travel is really important to me, but that wasn’t always the case. My family didn’t travel a whole lot when I was a kid, mostly because the logistics and funding required to get a family with six kids and two adults on vacation made it impossible. I lived several places growing up throughout Washington, California, and Oregon as my father found teaching positions and we moved to be closer to my grandparents, but those places were always “home”. We didn’t really go on vacation and I was perfectly fine with that. In fact, until I joined the military I had every intention of staying in Gresham, Oregon for my whole life. I even turned down an option to be stationed in Italy in the Army but turned it down because I didn’t want to be far from home… Travel just didn’t appeal to me.

All that changed once I got my feet wet and saw a bit of the world. My first travels were in the military and, as such, were a little bit unconventional. I didn’t really get to do touristy things, but I did get to see the beauty of other places and meet a lot of people from diverse backgrounds. I spent a lot of time in a guard tower with an Italian soldier who talked a lot about his life in Italy, he also introduced me to the concept of consensual non-monogamy when he offhandedly mentioned that his girlfriend was sleeping with other men and he slept with other women. It didn’t seem like a big deal to him, though my views were still very conservative at the time and I promised to pray for him.

I also met many interpreters in Iraq and Afghanistan, as well as soldiers from the UK. The most influential people on my drive to travel ended up being in my own unit. My squad was made up of an eclectic bunch from all over the US. My team leader was a African-American Muslim from Kansas named Vinnie; the other SAW gunner was from Rocky Mount, NC; my grenadier was an Irish Catholic from New Jersey; etc. We really reinforced the 82nd Airborne Motto of “All American”. This ragtag group of soldiers from all over the country made me want to see the country for myself, and as my belief system shifted to a point where I saw all borders as artificial and all humans as my brethren I became more interested in seeing the world.

In some ways travel is an unending task, and that might be one of the things I like about it. There will always be another place to see, festival to experience, person to meet. Even as we’ve spent two years bicycling around the United States we have only gotten a taste of many places we’ve been. There is no end to travel, even if certain vacations and adventures do end. After each adventure you become more aware of other adventures, like all things as you get deeper into them you realize they are more complex and beautiful than you could have ever imagined. I will never see everything I want to see, and that’s okay.

I pursue travel for lots of reasons, but primarily it is my love of novelty. Travel has allowed to have experiences that I couldn’t get at home and that technology hasn’t reached the point of accurate simulations. Whether it was a threesome at a pagan festival, getting snowed on in the Montana mountains, skinny dipping with a group of nudists in Florida, getting stoned in New Mexico and going to the hot springs, working the “Orgy Dome” at Burning Man, cycling through the Redwoods, or a thousand other experiences that I’ve forgotten, these are all things that I wouldn’t have experienced if I stayed home.

Travel inspires me, it makes me more creative, it keeps me healthy, and it makes me more loving. It shows me who I am and who I want to be, and it gives me greater love and appreciation for the little battles that other people face. The internet has connected us in many ways, but it also isolates us. We see a shadow of a person and reduce them to soundbites and a few views, we don’t get to see the passion in their eyes or heartache. Travel reminds me that we are all human and even if I disagree with a person they aren’t evil.

I realize that not everyone has an interest in travel, but I think we all have an interest in new experiences and getting the most out of life. There are many paths to reach those ends, mine just happens to involve a lot of movement.

Race

We’ve traveled through 19 states and countless cities now, and in some of those areas being white made us stand out. As I’m typing this I am at a home in a historically black neighborhood and we are the only white people I’ve seen in the surrounding blocks. I’m going to be honest during this post, even if I feel a little shame for my feelings.

There are times I felt uncomfortable biking or walking around certain neighborhoods. I have no logical reason to believe I was in any danger or that anyone wanted to harm me, quite to opposite really. But, when you are walking through a neighborhood and you stand out because of your race it can be somewhat unnerving. Particularly when the cultural norms are so different than what you are used to. I never grew up in a neighborhood where dozens of people hung out on the street throughout the day and night playing music. I’m not used to seeing my neighbors.

I don’t want to be nervous in places where I’m different. I’m feel shame when I recognize this feeling because I know it is irrational, but in a lot of ways society has reinforced these feelings. We’ve met several people on our bike ride who have warned us about going into non-white areas because “you better have a gun” or “some people will attack white people just for being white”. This goes directly against facts, but the fear can still plant seeds in your mind.

In fact, the only time we have ever been directly threatened or had people treat us poorly was a group of white people in North Dakota. Every other person we’ve encountered has been incredibly friendly, even when they are baffled by what we are doing. I recognize that two vegans travelling by bicycle with their dog and a solar system stereotypically falls firmly in the category “shit white people do”.

I want to get over the nervousness and the internalized knee-jerk reaction when I’m in an unfamiliar place. I realize I shouldn’t be naive, but in the United States there are very few places that are truly dangerous to us. Violent crime is super rare. I guess the best option is to keep going places that are new, expose myself to the true people and cultures of this country, and not beat myself up too badly. My first thought might be “uh oh, this place might be dangerous because I’m white”, but my second thought that occurs when my logic kicks in is “fuck that noise, this place is fine. Stop stereotyping. Everyone here is probably kind and friendly. Rarely does anyone want to hurt a stranger”. And, hopefully, it is the second thought that is more important.

Home town

While sitting at a gas station in rural Louisiana we were approached by a man getting gas. He was curious about two raggedly looking white people were hanging out in the parking lot next to two fully loaded bicycles (we don’t always stand out for being white, but in this town we did). He asked us what we were doing and where we had been. When we told him the places we had been in Louisiana he commented that we had seen more of the state than he had, and he had lived in that area his whole life. This was not an uncommon sentiment, in fact, we had said the same thing before to people visiting our previous “home towns”.

It was common for me to remark on this when I lived in tourist traps like DC and Los Angeles. I never really explored my town unless people were visiting me. Instead, I would spend years in the same city and go to the same places each weekend. The same bars, the same bike routes, the same restaurants, varying only occasionally but not really going much beyond my neighborhood. I never explored my own towns until I was leaving.

It is a shame. Many of the places I lived had amazing sites and experiences just outside my comfort zone. DC is a prime example. You can take a bike trail from DC to Pittsburgh, but I didn’t realize that route existed until I left. There was even free camping along much of the route. There were cool little towns with quirky coffee shops and restaurants. I could have abandoned the terrible swamp town that is DC and been in small town Maryland within a few miles along the bike trail, but I never did that.

When we settle into a new town after the bike ride (probably Baton Rouge at this point) I want to make a point of exploring more. You can find a lot of hidden gems just by opening Google Maps and typing in “camping”, or you can use ReserveAmerica.com to find local campsites. Then, when you find a campsite just plug in biking directions from where you are and take off. Just about anyone can find a campground 30 miles from their home and make a weekend trip out of it. You leave Saturday morning, liesurely bike 30 miles with your gear in a backpack, and then camp. On Sunday you reverse the trip.

I’m sure there are other things to do besides camping. Most cities have museums, tours, botanical gardens, and parks to explore. Or you can find rivers to raft, intramural leagues to join, or vineyards to visit. Every town we visit has amazing things to do, and every town we visit is someone’s “home town”. I wish I would have realized the potential of my home towns before I left.

People Rock!

We get warned by people, a lot. People in cities warn us about country folk. People in the country warn us about city folk. Suburban people warn us about everyone outside of their housing development. Violence happens everywhere. Well, except the place where we currently are. Everyone else is violent, but not here, people here are good. It is everyone else who is “crazy*”.

Often, people tell us to carry a gun or a knife or something. We have both of those things, including bear mace, but I’ve loaded the weapon less than 20 times in the last two years and kept it outside of the case even fewer times. Most of those times we were in areas with potentially dangerous wildlife like alligators or bears. The change of an attack is still miniscule, but I still feel more comfortable if I am ready.

I kind of understand everyone’s fear, particularly from people who haven’t spent a lot of time out of their hometowns. If you watch the news there is always someone committing an act of violence “out there”. Even fictional television shows encourage fear. Shows like Law & Order (and their seemingly hundreds of offshoots) come up with a case of rape, murder, and kidnapping every week. These crimes happen somewhere else and seem to reassure the general population that the only safe place is in their homes. Going outside is dangerous. Travelling is dangerous. Every mile you venture outside of your bubble your chances of being a victim is magnified tenfold.

Luckily, none of that has been our real experience. Despite all the warnings we have had an almost universally positive experience with everyone we have encountered. We really only had one personal experience that I would call bad, and it wasn’t a violent one, we were just accused of a crime by some people in North Dakota. Everyone else has been incredibly supportive. People offer us water, shelter, food, money, and weed all the time. When we use websites like Couchsurfing and Warmshowers (which do have varying levels of security) we are invited into stranger’s homes and often left there alone. Hell, the couple we are staying with now gave us a spare key after knowing us for less than three waking hours.

People are generally good. Out of thousands upon thousands of people we have encountered over the last two years of travelling none have gone out of their way to harm us. It would be easy to harm us too. We could be killed by a car on a lone road and nobody would be there to help us. We could have someone try to steal our bikes or equipment and we would be left alone without any support. But that hasn’t happened, we haven’t even felt like it is likely it would happen. Nearly all people on this planet want to go their whole lives without hurting another, cooperation is in our nature.

I do realize that there is an element of privilege in this. Anna and I are two white, relatively young, not completely unattractive, people who have access to showers, razors, and clean clothing. If we were a different race or much older or looked like unemployed transients it is possible that we would be open to more violence or, at the very least, being treated with less kindness. Though, overall, things are getting better. Violence is down. Crime is down. Prosperity is up. Opportunities are up. The improvement is not dispersed equally in the US (and definitely not in the world) but we are getting there, and I think we need to recognize that. Living in fear and seeing fellow humans as “the crazy other” is no way to live.

 

 

* As someone who has seem mental illness and has my own mental demons I hate when people use the word “crazy” when they mean “dangerous”. We could unpack this a lot. People who say this seem to be implying that in order to be violent you must have a mental illness, but that mental illness tends to be the sole problem of everyone else. The person talking is the only sane person in a sea of chaos, that is why we need things like the death penalty, police, the war on drugs, NSA surveillance, appeals to God as the foundation of morality, etc. We need these parental figures for everyone else, but not us. Blargh.

Out of the Bay and Into the Wine

Pre-Post: Well, despite my half-ass efforts I have not really maintained this blog in addition to the other two I’m running. I think I will just start posting the same thing here that I post on the blog for our 2-year bike ride, Barely Functional Adults. This was originally posted on May 5. As a reminder,this is pretty much an uncensored version of the events of our bike ride. If you are uncomfortable hearing about sex, drugs, profanity, etc you should check follow our PG-version at www.10LegsWillTravel.wordpress.com . This is a warning. If you don’t want to hear about these adult actions please leave now.

So, I feel like the last post was kind of shitty. I wasn’t really in the mood to write but felt the need for force myself to. I should have known this is a mistake. I love writing, but if I’m not in the mood it is obvious. Sorry for the shitty writing last time… onward to better things.

Leaving San Francisco was bitter-sweet. We were all eager to get on the road again but that city had a great feeling to it. It takes something special to make us feel vanilla but the kinky sexy vibe that seemed to ooze from the city was enough to make us feel “normal”. Basically, we loved it. There is something about the titillation that comes from being in a place that doesn’t hide, fear, or shame sex that makes the spirit feel truly alive. I am sure we will all be back, in fact, it is likely we will all live there at some point, but probably not after our bike ride. It was just too expensive and crowded for our current tastes, after Los Angeles we need something a little smaller to call home.

Anyway, we headed out from San Francisco towards the East Bay (probably not the right phrase, I have no idea what the fuck I’m talking about most of the time). We took a ferry into Oakland, rode through Oakland and Berkeley, and into the hills to the north. Our plan for Friday was to crash with Anna’s cousin and her husband, Katie and Neal. The ride itself had a few hills but the real thing that stuck in our minds was the difference between Oakland and Berkeley. The ride through Oakland felt a little dangerous… the roads poorly maintained, zero bike lanes, and traffic that seemed mostly unregulated. We saw cop cars all over the place and the police presence was strong. Berkeley was only a few blocks away but felt incredibly different with freshly paved roads, dedicated bike routes, slow traffic, and the only people we saw were college students and random touristy pedestrians. It is kind of crazy how the environment in the US can change block to block.

Katie and Neal put us up at their gorgeous house in Orlinda. Even though they were in the process of repainting the house they opened their doors to us. They had some amazing decks… I love a good deck, they are great for BBQing, banging in an exhibitionist way, enjoying a fine cigar, and just relaxing after a long day of work/play. We didn’t bang, BBQ, or have a cigar on their deck but we did get a chance to relax a bit, share a beer, and then go out for some Thai food. I had only met Katie and Neal once before this and it was awesome to spend some more time with them. I really hope we get a chance to hang out more in the future.

We left Orlinda late in the morning to go to my cousin’s house. I had not seen Emily, my cousin, in a long time… with the exception of my grandmother’s funeral it has been almost a decade. Emily and I always had a bit of a rivalry going, we are the two oldest of our clans and I think that lead to some unnecessary, but probably predictable, hostility between us. Luckily, this trip really showed how that negativity towards us was no longer the case. I had a fucking awesome time hanging out with Emily, her husband Joe, and their four kids. I am often pretty negative towards the idea of having kids, and many times it seems people have kids for all the wrong reasons. That isn’t the case with Emily and Joe, they are doing parenting right (in my unhumble opinion). Their kids are all individuals and are encouraged to pursue their own passions. They are taught not to judge and embrace individuality. If I had kids I hope I would be able to raise them as well as Emily and Joe do. It was fucking awesome to share beer, Jager bombs, and some great conversations that hit every subject with them.

Our time with Emily in Hercules eventually ended and we hit the road with a lot of hope for the future and a wicked hangover. Apparently when you try to bike up a hill with 100 lbs in tow after a night of Jager you kind of just want to die, especially when you find yourself being passed by a couple hundred friendly people in bright jerseys who want to greet you with a smile and a conversation. I never knew smiling people in bright yellow could inspire rage and vomit.

The next cities on our list were Sonoma and Santa Rosa. According to Wikipedia there are not any people in Sonoma, just a bunch of grapes and rich people on vacation. Wikipedia is wrong. I was able to find a couchsurfer in Sonoma and she agreed to let us fall asleep in her living room. It turned out to be an amazing city, probably because of the people we met. We got into town around 4pm and met up with our host (Suzanne… or Sue as everyone else called her, I never know what to call people…) at a local Irish bar. In case you are wondering, this is a good sign. Our brief meeting with Sue turned into several hours of drinking beer with a variety of people she knew. There was Sue, Kenneth, Kyle, and the hot vegan couple whose names I can’t remember (I’d tap that). To be honest, I felt really welcome with the group. It was like a bunch of old friends in a sitcom rotating around for comic relief and just enjoying life. We talked about Burning Man, were open about MDMA use, discussed brewing beer, and a whole lot of other things. The conversations just seemed so natural, which is good for three introverts like us.

Sue’s roommates ended up being just as cool. Even though Sue wasn’t around when we arrived but Natalie and Brian (or Bryan??) made us feel right at home. I really wasn’t expecting that from Sonoma, it seemed like a hole-in-the-wall town but it had a lot of love in it. It felt like a potential home but, sadly, we only got one night there. Oh well, now we head out to Santa Rosa for some beers and a couple days of rest.

Post-Post 1: Also, we have set up a GoFundMe account for our ride. If you enjoy the adventure or just want to receive a post card, booty pic, or vegan meal check us out here

Post-Post 2: If you would like to see all our pictures you can check out our Facebook page at www.Facebook.com/10legswilltravel.

Send Off

**Well, despite my half-ass efforts I have not really maintained this blog in addition to the other two I’m running. I think I will just start posting the same thing here that I post on the blog for our 2-year bike ride, Barely Functional Adults. This was originally posted on April 16. As a reminder,this is pretty much an uncensored version of the events of our bike ride. If you are uncomfortable hearing about sex, drugs, profanity, etc you should check follow our PG-version at www.10LegsWillTravel.wordpress.com . This is a warning. If you don’t want to hear about these adult actions please leave now**

Well nothing ever goes as planned. Expectations, plans, and the whole works are often necessary but rarely match up with what we have in mind. Oh well, shit works out.

We didn’t get to bed the night before until pretty late. I went to bed around midnight, Hans went to bed around 11pm, and Anna didn’t snuggle into our mattress on the ground until nearly 2am… and our alarm was set for 6am. It sucks but I didn’t think much of it because I knew we could still knock out the rest of the prep work and apartment cleaning by 9am or so and hit the trail. Our first day was only 35 miles or so after all, no big deal. And then everything went crazy.

I woke up to anxious voices in the living room. Apparently Higgs had decided to eat a bunch of our trail mix in the middle of the night and because the trail mix had dark chocolate it could probably poison him to death. Anna called her dad who is a veterinarian and I did the only thing I could do, I checked the internet. After some research I decided our dog probably wouldn’t die but this is the internet so it is probably good that we erred on the side of caution. Anna’s dad told us to induce vomiting by pouring hydrogen peroxide down his throat so we did. Dogs do not love the taste of hydrogen peroxide, but after a couple douses he vomited a shit ton of foamy, brown, nutty mess all over the alley behind our house. A good person probably would have cleaned it up but I didn’t because I was tired, in my pajamas, and the smell was terrible. Oh well, this is LA… dog vomit is probably pretty clean compared to most of the sidewalk.

After the Higgs-chocolate-vomit debacle we got back to work cleaning the apartment and prepping our equipment. We finally got everything downstairs and ready to load up around 11am. That is when we realized that the equipment didn’t really fit on our bikes very well and we needed a trailer to carry some of it. Anna rushed off to the local bike shop to get one while Hans and I hung around and kind of just sat around. 1pm finally rolled around and we hit the road. Now we had less than half the time than expected… no big deal…

Unfortunately, we didn’t make it to the campground we had a reservation at. We were racing the sun and had about seven more miles to go when Anna’s bike blew a tube. By time we got it changed we had very little light left and were on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway. I found a campground about a mile away and we rushed off hoping they would have room for us to camp.

We arrived with a few minutes of light left but there was nobody working so we just set up our tent in an empty spot and called it good. We would have payed the $45 if they came around and asked for it but they never did. We left before any park attendee talked to us so I guess we camped for free. Well, free minus the $40 we paid for the other campground that we didn’t stay at. I’m sure the state of California will survive without that extra $5, they sure as hell took a bunch out of our taxes this year already anyway.

The next day (Thursday) only really had one event. As we were driving down the PCH Higgs somehow managed to bust out of the kennel and fell out while I was riding about 15mph. He somehow rolled pretty safely and decided to sprint around the highway. Luckily there wasn’t much traffic. We all basically panicked and started screaming his name, which of course freaked him out and he started sprinting to each of us thinking we were playing some sort of game called “Let’s dodge traffic in an area with no shoulder and speeding cars, but at least the weather is nice”. We ended up getting grabbing him and he was perfectly fine, we were more shaken than he was. He just kept wagging his tail and was thinking of peanut butter or something. After that there wasn’t much to report, we saw some cool jets and missiles near an Air Force base and we stopped for some fresh fruit but really we rolled into Ventura safe and sound.

On Friday things got a little rougher. First off, after about 4 miles on the road some bad circumstances led to Higgs tipping in his trailer as we crossed a road. Again, Higgs ended up being fine but the trailer ended up torn on one side. We had to prop up the couch cushion that Higgs has been using as a bed to block the broken side so he couldn’t slip out… I know it seems like we take risks with our dog but that really isn’t the case, it has just been a good run of bad luck.

After we got the trailer going again we knocked out an amazing 30 miles or so along the coast. We stopped for coffee in a pretentious little area of Santa Barbara where some guy who said he was a witch from Salem, Massachusetts and was walking to San Diego asked Hans for money. He got pretty annoyed when she said no but then asked for directions to San Diego and got more annoyed when we didn’t know more than “walk with the beach on your right”. Once we hit the highway heading to Lucidity from Santa Barbara things got kind of dicey. The roads were absolute crap… uphill climbs, shitty shoulders, and driver’s who barely paid attention. We walked our bikes a lot because we just couldn’t keep riding the steep incline. Luckily, a great guy with a pick-up truck saw us along the road and offered us a lift. We gladly accepted. Finally, around 5pm on Friday we got into Lucidity and got ready to party our asses off.

It didn’t take us long to find our friends and get settled in at the festival. After a little bit of relaxation we popped some MDMA and Cialis and got things going. We wandered around, listened to some music, and just enjoyed the amazing vibe of hundreds of people acting peacefully. For the first time since our trip started Anna and I had sex but because of the MDMA neither of us could come. A standard and expected side effect, particularly when our bodies were so tired from three days cycling in the sun. During this time Hans was out with some of our friends. She got invited to a threesome but wasn’t really up for it because of all the travel, besides, she wanted to listen to some music and explore the festival. We all got a really good night’s sleep though and were ready to explore the festival all day Saturday.

After waking at about noon the three of us and some friends hung out for a bit and drank some beers in front of the tent. We were all recovering from the chemicals in our body and enjoying the cool atmosphere. A few more of our friends arrived at the festival which motivated us to get moving. A group of us walked around for a while just taking in the sights and sounds. It is always such a great experience to see the art and hear the music that humans can create, we are such fascinating and creative creatures. During our walk we decided to take a bunch of pictures (obviously) and during one of these photo ops I proposed to Anna. She said yes and we are now engaged. Her and I have talked a lot about our future together and we both want our lives to stay aligned if possible. We are great partners.

Eventually we found our way back to our tents and rested some more…. festivals can kind of make you lazy sometimes. It is an opportunity to rest and restore your mind (even if you exhaust your body a bit). As the sun started to sink down we took some more MDMA and Cialis and hit the festival again. We wandered, looked for friends, listened to music and enjoyed life.

As is often the case, five of us found ourselves in a tent exploring each other. There were various stages of undress and tits being sucked, cocks being stroked, bodies caressed, kissing, laughing, petting, playing, and banging. Bodies got lost on and in each other and a good time was had by all. During all this play another friend came up to our tent but he was on a bunch of mushrooms so he was more in the mood to just stare at the stars than have some sexy time with our group. While it was fun none of us came (thanks MDMA) so this was day 4 without orgasm… a pretty long time for people like us. After our little tent party we wandered around for another hour or so but our bodies started to tire, the MDMA we took was really clean so we were euphoric and happy but not really “dancey”.

Sunday ended up being a real day of rest for us. Most of our friends had to leave that day and we knew we had to hit the road again hard on Monday. We spent a lot of time letting our bodies and mind recover. Naps, 5-HTP, and food were our primary desires. It was incredibly sad to say good-bye to our friends. Some of them we will see again at Burning Man but many of them will likely be physically out of our lives for the next couple years. Thankfully we live in a time when Facebook and cell phones allow us to stay connected. I fucking love these people and I don’t know how I would get around without them, we all need friends where we can be our naked selves… where we can be open, honest, and unapologetic. People who don’t mind hanging out in the nude, drinking a beer, discussing philosophy, doing drugs, cuddling on a couch, or a thousand other things. These people are soulmates, reflections of ourselves in others. That’s what these two groups of friends are to me… they are love, plain and simple. They are my crushes (intellectually, physically, and as couples) and they are people I hope will be in my life for a very long time. Damn it… I am going to fucking miss them.

Leaving on Monday morning was tough. It was like leaving a warm bed on a cold morning except the bed was warmth for your spirit. We managed to do it though and hit the road around 11am. The mountains out of the city sucked ass. Small shoulders, inclines, and shitty drivers again but we pushed through the remaining 8ish miles with only a few stops (mostly for safety… I have no intention of dying on this adventure, there is too much more to explore). Unfortunately as we came out of the mountains we had a tube on the equipment trailer blow. Somehow it managed to get over five tiny holes in it. We patched what we could and moved on… we should have had spare tubes but we all procrastinated buying them. For days we talked about needing to pick them up but just didn’t. Oh well, lesson learned. We patched what we could and just kept filling the tube every mile or so until we made it to our destination.

That night we stayed with someone we found on WarmShowers. Our host and his wife was absolutely amazing. Despite Higgs acting like a dick to his dogs and horses our host really took care of us. He provided a place for us to set up our tent for the night and cooked us an amazing vegan chili dinner. A warm home cooked meal really hit the spot. I should of known that were among good people when his Pandora station was Phish. We had some great dessert, took a shower in one of the nicest showers I have ever used, and hit the sack pretty early so we could get a good start on the next day.

Around 7am we hit the road to a local coffee shop to kind of set up basecamp for the day. I rode quickly to a bike shop to get tubes for the trailer, as well as new patch kits, while Anna and Hans worked on work and our new Facebook page. We ended up spending about four hours at the coffee shop before hitting the road again.

About halfway through our day we stopped for a break at a gas station. While sitting at a bench I started talking to a guy sitting near us. It turns out he is a former California Highway Patrolman. He asked about what we were doing and seemed really supportive. Unfortunately, I didn’t get his name but I gave him one of our cards. He asked about this blog title so it is likely he is reading this. It is sad that if he was working and witnessed some of the things I’ve already talked about it is likely he would put me in a cage. Our current legal system (and the fucktard asshat politicians that pass the laws) pits many good people who want to make a better society against peaceful people like us. I don’t know what kind of cop he was, he may have been wonderful or he may have ruined the lives of people because they smoked a plant or did some other peaceful act that harmed nobody. I just don’t know, I hope he was a good cop, I really do. It is just really sad that we now live in a society where I fear flashing blue lights and badges even when I do nothing wrong. I know I would never call the police, even if I witnessed a crime… the chance is just too high that they will turn against me or other peaceful people. We now live in a society where vigilante justice is more just than law enforcement. It really is sad….

The rest of our ride into Santa Maria was pretty peaceful. We couldn’t find a safe place to camp or any available people on CouchSurfing or WarmShowers so we got a cheap hotel room. Finally, after an amazing 90 seconds of banging, Anna and I were able to orgasm… the first one in seven days. Hans was feeling a little sick so she didn’t bust out her vibrator, but she did have nearly a half dozen sex dreams so her subconscious filled in where her body couldn’t…. and she banged herself in the morning to make up for lost time.
**I know this one is pretty long. Hopefully I will be able to update this more often and not write a novel once a week**

How Much Do You Need?

I stumbled upon this article this morning and it really spoke to me. The article is titled “You Don’t Have To Be Rich In Your 20′s” has kind of a corny title but touches on something that I think is very important. Much of our 20′s and 30′s are spent in an unnecessary rush to secure money, settle into one location, and set up a sense of security. This may not be the best way to live. We no longer live in a time when you need to jump straight into a career or family in your early adulthood, there is time to explore your desires and creativity. Too often we are encouraged to sacrifice our wishes, our sense of adventure, our drive to explore, and the incredible life lessons that come from loving, heartbreak, and making “mistakes”.

There is such a rush to gain some sort of sense of security, security which is more of an illusion than reality. Big bank accounts, owning a home, settling into a job that makes you miserable, and jumping into a family while young sounds like security but it is fleeting and can dissappear much more quickly than it came. And what good is this security anyway if you are told to subdue your life, desires, and friendships… what is the point of falling in line and feeling safe it if it kills your soul? Life is something to be actively experienced, not viewed from a distance behind a white picket fence or a computer monitor. We probably only get one chance at life on this rock, I think that one chance shouldn’t be gambled away on the safe bet. Whether you are 20, 40, 45, or 95 years old it is not too late to get an adrenaline rush, scare yourself, travel to new lands, fall in love, and go to the grave assured that you had a kick ass time. 

The whole article is good and a quick read, check it out if you have a few minutes. (You Don’t Have To Be Rich In Your 20′s)