Got to Go…
The life of a gypsy biker is full of bitter-sweet farewells... Just when we've begun to hit our stride and entertain thoughts of having 'arrived', that restless spirit tugs on our shirt-sleeve and reminds us 'time' is short. Then, just hearing that kind of sound logic and solid reasoning, we're compelled to leave and find a new direction...
Most things in life are neither all good nor all bad; indeed, most are a composite of those two with only subtle ‘value’ differences between them. Many options are both very good, but often we must choose one or the other, because we can't have both.
What seems to tip the scales for us wanderers, though, is the desire to see it all. It isn't that we don't like what we choose to give up, it's that we need the other, the discoveries, even more.
Not just the amazing scenery either, as appealing as that is, but the interesting people and their widely varying ways of life... To glimpse life from a different angle and a new vantage point, to see things through a different set of eyes in order to expand our 'database' and gain greater understanding. To 'walk a mile' in the shoes of others...
To consider and ponder things in an undistracted arena in the pursuit of wisdom… We don’t just choose or self-anoint ourselves to be a ‘just’ and fair person, we must work doggone hard to become one…
We find ourselves saying goodbye a lot... We form relationships with and even feelings for places and people, then we uproot ourselves and leave... often making a clean and total break. Inertia is strong, and it doesn't take much to hold the majority of folks, especially when combined with the necessity of being self-supporting...
Jobs are a huge anchor, as are accumulated possessions and the simple logistical nightmare of movement... Families, commitments, and responsibilities can tie us down with unbreakable bonds. Remove all those restraints and impediments, however, and new options present themselves!
Still, that's not enough to produce movement for most mere mortals... A few, however, just can't sit by and wonder or redirect our focus to more domestic thoughts with any degree of satisfaction...
No, some of us just have to go; but, again, as with all things in life, choices... and often sacrifices... must be made... To gain one thing, we must give up another. Giving up a toothache in exchange for a slice of carrot cake is not difficult for anyone, with the possible exception of masochists... Giving up a treasured relationship to go explore the vast 'unknown', on the other hand, can be most difficult indeed...
Another challenging aspect of this life, and the one I believe is the hardest for most folks to come to terms with, is that it must be done solo. One cannot bring along a ‘microcosm’ of our own more traditional life… It took me a while to finally figure that out, but through trial and error, sometimes painful experience, I reluctantly but inescapably came to this conclusion.
The minute even one other person enters the picture, everything changes… Discussions must be held, options and preferences considered, moods, health, and even degree of fatigue taken into account, then compromises made, and consensus reached.
And there is more, with even one other person along, interactions are dominated by those with companions. When traveling alone, all interactions are with strangers: New folks with fresh points of view and different values, attitudes, customs, traditions, beliefs, and ideas… We learn the most by considering the widest possible array of notions, not from the limiting, self-reinforcing ‘group think’ of sticking only with what we think we already know.
I love my life... And, through the years I've come to terms with the 'cost' of my freedom and mobility. It isn't always easy, but it so far has always been necessary.
You can't put it out of your mind and simply not think about it... You must deal with it, working very hard to keep things, that is, facts, details, myths, and illusions, in proper and accurate perspective and context... To realize choices must be made; and, that this is the price tag that comes with the goodies... For yours truly, the scale still tips decidedly towards moving on...
Knowing why the things with our thinking and feelings are going on helps, but that does not change anything about what is going on… The difficulty and the self-doubt are still there, as are the feelings of regret and sadness. Even ‘Jack’, Arden's pet dog, seemed to be confused and bewildered by what I was doing… He appeared to be looking at me wondering how I could just load up and ride off… Didn’t I like him anymore?
It didn’t take long for ALI and me to be back in stride, though… I made the turn down towards Seward instead of staying on the dreaded alternative route to Anchorage… The sky looked rather gloomy down that way, and the prospect of things turning unpleasant loomed large as we stayed the course…
We did encounter some drizzle as we entered that interesting seaport town, but we were undaunted… Familiar… Even though it had been twenty-three years since the last time I’d ventured down here, it seemed as though it had been much more recent…
I was in the mood for some chow! I passed an interesting looking bar & grill on the way in, whose sign alleged they were also a BBQ place, and I made a mental note… Nah, no way Q up here can compare to what I’ve grown accustomed to, but… Hmmm, maybe the owner was originally from dear ol’ Dixie…? Oh well, I was wanting some bacon and eggs anyway, so… we rode on.
The mountains were mostly hidden from view by dark gray, very threatening looking clouds, and the water of the bay looked, as you would expect, gray and drab… almost grim even. The streets were wet, but the crowds and traffic typical for a weekday, as pedestrians bobbed and weaved past each other and umbrellas bumped into each other. I was not getting a warm and fuzzy feeling…
Seward seemed to me to be much more vibrant and active like Homer than Whittier had… Hustle and bustle that day, with many more folks scurrying about doing whatever it is that they do around here. Lots of fishing boats in the harbor, a large cruise ship or two, throngs of tourists wandering around, most probably lost, and local folks moving in and out among them taking care of business.
The eateries all seemed to me to be… well, sterile, personality-less retail outlets geared specifically for the foot traffic thereabouts, just as one would expect. I prefer places were ‘real walking-around folks’ dine… where conversations can be had and a sense of the 'local flavor' can be gained… Hmmm, what about that bar & grill BBQ place…?
As soon as the kickstand was firmly planted on the gravel parking space, I knew I’d made the right call… A burly, thirtyish looking, obviously local guy walked close by on his way inside… We were away from ‘downtown’, so no other tourists besides ALI and her trekking partner were around…
The bar & grill… a pretty good 'breakfast place' it turned out
“Do you know if they serve breakfast here?” I inquired… “Nope,” was his friendly response, “but they do have some killer pulled pork!” Well, let me say this about that… I’m mighty partial to pig parts generally, but BBQ pork ranks right up there just behind bacon and country ham!
I finished pre-meal preparations, then ventured inside… Yep, a bar & grill for sure… From the stale smell in the air I deduced there must have been one humdinger of a party the night before… I thought to myself how I was sorry I’d missed it!
There was one older gentleman already at the bar having his first of the day… or, perhaps his next from the evening before… My new burley young acquaintance and our nice ‘nurse’ behind the bar rounded out the entire ‘crowd’ inside this early in the morning… I was just in time.
Breakfast of champions!
Just any old body can't make great BBQ! In fact, there are as many different degrees of goodness as there are stars in the night sky. Those range from ‘slap yo momma’ all the way down to ‘man, I shoulda got a chilidog’… and, that’s just when it comes to pork. Beef is a whole nuther story, with an equally large pile of gradations… Hotglue’s being at the pinnacle of that heap…
That turned out to be a fine meal… So fine, in fact, it seemed to have produced a positive glow on even the weather… Yep, when I returned to our girl, the drizzle had stopped, and the road was starting to dry, the clouds shrouding the mountains were beginning to part, and the amazingly beautiful place I remembered seemed to be here after all… What had at first seemed a very questionable route selection had turned out to be a downright good’un!
Seward setting...
DDT
