Another day, another mile.

If children’s stories have taught us anything, it’s that slow and steady wins the race, so I’d imagine I’ll be standing atop a podium any month now.

Before we get into anything today, I’d like to mention that the kind human who has been handling all of my order fulfillment sine I’ve been on the road has notified me that she is going on a surf trip to Portugal from October 11th to the 20th, and will be returning to active duty shortly after her blissed out jet lag subsides. I appreciate everyone’s patience while she gets out and explores the world a piece, while meanwhile, I’m still out here doing whatever it is that I am. You’ll get your goods when you do, and the world will keep turning.

Speaking of which, last week was a real doozy. I feel like as each day passes and I get increasingly closer to returning ‘home’, wherever the hell that is, the levels of stress, and uncertainty increase. I begin attempting to cross bridges that I’ve not only not come to yet, but that are still hundreds of miles in the distance, if even built at all.

The general directive is to stew about things ad nauseam, (especially at 2:00 in the morning), and then remain sick about it until you can find something to distract you, wash, rinse, repeat.

Such is life when your internal Virgo’s screams are deafening, but luckily, over the course of days 113 to 119 aboard this tossed ship, in the midst of coming unglued, I’ve been able to some of said distraction. Having spent last week back in Burna Vista, Colorado (during some of which time I was again gainfully employed turning wrenches at Boneshaker Cycles), and then heading deeper into the southwest, where I was able to catch up with Soulrun laura and Joe. As you peruse the following photos, it would be worth noting that the good ones were shot by Joe, and will be indicated with an asterisk. Likewise, the mediocre ones were shot by me, and will be indicated by their mediocrity.

It’s with that, fellow hobos, and hobets, I present to you the last week of my ascent into the void;


(For anyone who’s potentially interested, these two beautifully polished turds are available for purchase at the shop, and while I wouldn’t attempt any white-hot descents on them, perhaps no better bar bikes have ever been reclaimed. As a bonus, the second of the two is bona fide Belgish-born;)

On my way out of town, and just to prove to myself that I’m not a slovenly 49 year old schlub, I drove up into these mountains;-pulled off to the side of the road, and ran to a 13,000′ ridge and back wearing jeans, Vans, and a t-shirt. I might still be a slovenly 49 year old schlub, but my lungs can kick the shit out of yours;




As I indicated above in those words up there, it was at this point, after having awoken for a couple of days consecutively to high twenty degree temps in the back of my little truck, I decided to continue to chase the warmth. (Though, to be fair, I quite prefer shivering myself to sleep, than suffocating in my own sweat as I did through most of August.) In a mater of a few reasonably short hours, I’d lumbered into the town of Moab, where the environs changed dramatically;
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*Though it doesn’t do these environs that Ed Abbey loved so dearly justice, clicken to embiggen. It’s truly a staggeringly beautiful place;
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Finally, might yinzers recall the post recounting days sixty-nine to seventy-six? In it I detailed a few innocuous, and seemingly useless items that I’ve found a great deal of value in during my travels these last many months. Well, it just so happened that I have one more to add to the list, and that is a box of baby wipes;

There have been days during which more than anything, I wanted a shower, because getting into your sleeping bag covered in dried dirt and salt sucks.

With no shower in sight, (aside from my sun shower, which on more occasions than not has had ice in it), I’ve found at least a slight bit of relief with baby wipes. Plus, (and not that this has happened to me, but it hasn’t not happened to me either), when you’ve dug your umpteenth hole in which to take a shit, sometimes you need a little bit of additional leverage in emerging from the woods presentable.

Having now included these in my bag of tricks, I feel at least 7% smarter, and 28% cleaner. Of course, as always, take what I have to say with a grain of salt, and if you have a better way of doing things, feel free to leave it in the comments or send me an email.

One way or another, it’s at least with a sparkly clean undercarriage that we’ll eventually cross the finish line together.