Conventional wisdom would dictate that when one loses a job, life slows down. This has NOT been the case at the Casa del Whackos. It’s almost embarrassing, as it seems like we have been on a perpetual journey since that Day of Emancipation back in April, so busy that we haven’t had a chance to become consumed with worry as to “What’s next?”, as what’s next is happening right now.
Gary Larson, the author and artist of “The Far Side”, was known for taking extended sabbaticals and going on African safaris to recharge the old batteries and gain new material. After the trip to the slot canyons of Utah, only to be eclipsed by the epic 7000 mile trip across the country to deliver the sidecar to Trevor, I have a LOT of work to do. In addiction to the writing that is shut up in our bones,we are also working on a photo album with commentary, a potential podcast(working title “Off the Beaten Path with Charlie Bravo”), and always keeping the initial mantra first and foremost in our minds:
Service every need as it arises and you will find your ministry.
From the beginning, the purpose of this page was to provide a oasis of non-saccharine good news amidst the burning desert of negativity that is the current landscape of social media. And this has not changed, nor will it. The writing is what I love, but other avenues have been crowding demanding attention, and the writing has suffered; all of the ingredients are in the pot, but the gumbo needs time to simmer.
It actually did my heart good when a reader that I don’t remember hearing from before sent me a PM asking if all was well at the Casa; she had noticed the drop off in blogs, and was just checking in. Wow… a jolt like that serves to remind me that I can’t let one area suffer(the blog) due to the distractions of others(the photography, the podcast, scratching my butt).
This is why this post is so important to me, important enough that I’m writing it when I had every intention of being on the road very early this morning. You see, another adventure beckons. Months ago, Zach and I had planned a motorcycle trip across the extreme outback of New Mexico, border to border employing only jeep trails and singletrack. As this will be a grueling trip with great fluctuations in climate from hot desert to frigid mountains, I had every intention of letting Charlie sit this one out. This decision was solidified during our last trip, 7000 miles from Arkansas to California, then Washington and back home; the old girl is still a bit worn down from that odyssey, and if the truth be told, so am I.
But the mountains are calling, and I must go. Charlie is going to chill out at the Casa with mom, and I’m making one last push for the west before I have to come home, settle my rambling self down, and make some hard decisions.
But today is not that day.
Zach and Craig departed yesterday morning and are already out there, hogging all the adventure for themselves. I wanted to wait until mom returned home from her trip to North Carolina to check in on Oba, but now the traveling bug is biting hard. The Suzuki DR650 enduro is packed and ready to go, and I hope to catch up with the boys by sometime tomorrow.
In the meantime, I want you to hold my feet to the fire; questions, comments, admonitions, etc, are the fuel that keeps the embers burning. A one-sided conversation is simply a sermon, and I’m not a preacher, your interaction is what keeps this trip forging ahead, so ask away. I think you realize that there’s not much I won’t talk about; after all, I did tell everyone the Infamous Poop Story, where I defiled my own feet with my cavalier treatment of the colostomy bag that I was wearing (or not) at the time.
We will be posting updates from the road, so don’t hesitate to drop a line if you care to…
We be of one blood, ye and I.