September 4th, 2022

I awoke with a smile “in my being”.
It was a special day for me, in more ways than one.
Outside of motorcycling, it was my third granddaughter’s birthday.
My teeth brushed, hair combed and voice readied, I was prepared for my ritual/tradition of letting the kids know how much we cherish them.
My, 6 years old!
The time going by faster than I realize it.
I must really take a deep breath and smell all the roses that I can.
I heard a saying once, that now resonates with me at this advanced stage of my life:
“Life is like a roll of tissue paper. The closer to the end you get, the faster it goes”.
……………….

Wow, 48!
Phase 1 had been granted to me by the good Lord.
It felt surreal!
A personal accomplishment.
It may pale in comparison to others, but it’s huge for me!

10 years and approximately 97,600 km (61,000 mi)
One flat tire, no mechanical breakdowns and no traffic violations.

I’ve traveled a lot of roads with dust and sand in this here land.
I’ve crossed the deserts of the west.
I’ve breathed mountain air, I’ve breathed the sea air.
I’ve touched the fresh water of the great lakes, I’ve touched the salt water of the coastal oceans.
I’ve had my fair share of traveling.
I’ve been to Reno, Chicago, Hondo and Toronto
I’ve been to Minnesota, Arizona, Nebraska and South Dakota
I’ve been to Boston, Fort Stockton, Portland and Maryland
I’ve been to Kansas City, Oklahoma City, Garden City and Sioux City
…. and all that is definitely not a pity!
………….. my adaptation of words inspired by the lyrics of Johnny Cash’s song - “I’ve Been Everywhere”

I’ve experienced the horrendous population congestion of the big cities of the east, the emptiness of hundreds of small towns, the desolation of western deserts and the Great Plains, endured rain and wind storms like you cannot imagine, heat - the likes of which I never knew existed beyond the weather climate in West Africa, cold that I never dreamed I would ever encounter on a motorcycle, met countless people along the way, helped strangers in my own capacity, been helped by other strangers in their capacities, and sang every song I know to myself more than once over.
Through all this, I have also been blessed with the hospitality of many strangers.

I have learned a little bit of history, I’ve learned a lot of geography.
I’ve learned that as human beings, we truly are the same wherever you go.
We all want the same good things in life - Good health, happiness, security and the freedom to travel with wanton abandonment - going places, seeing things, meeting people and getting a good feel for who we are as individuals and communities and how we try to find our places in this world.
I truly believe that it’s all about the friendships and family.
So as I gathered my thoughts, I began to prepare crafting this part of my journal, details of which I would have to begin consolidating.
One detail I so critically needed was the specific name of the route/road that Rocky took us along in Idaho through to Hells Canyon.
I made the call.
He was in Arizona, all settled and prepared for the winter season away from Montana.
Whitebird Pass Road.
That was it.
A very memorable road/ride.
I had enjoyed riding along it so much that I failed to register it’s name.
As we conversed, I couldn’t thank him enough for “putting me onto all those great roads” that we spent 2 days riding along.
We spent the next half hour or so re-living the roads and ride.
We began making plans for next year’s ride in Lake Havasu, AZ.
There are some great routes and roads he knows of, that he is sure I would like.
Good times.
Good riding.
Good weather.
Great scenery.
Great thrills and excitement.
Great anxiety.
Great friendship in the making.
Great experience.

Fast forward ….… January 5th, 2022.
The phone rang.
It was Jeff.
I was wickedly happy that I was getting another opportunity to “rub in” the fact that he had missed out on such a great ride this past August/September.
(Plans started out with him but at the last minute family matters cropped up that coincided with our timing and he reluctantly opted out)
Unfortunately, this was another one of those phone calls you don’t ever wish for.
Rocky had just suffered a massive heart attack 2 days earlier - and passed away!
It’s taken my spirit a long time to begin writing and editing this journal, let alone bring it to completion.
Checking the calendar, I realize that it’s exactly one year today (as of the time of writing this part of it) that I said goodbye to him when I left his home in Polson Montana heading for Yellowstone National Park.
Our plans to ride next year together in Lake Havasu, AZ were now permanently on hold!