As I sit on the back balcony at Tim's place at Sopiago Springs, I'm realizing that it's my last night here. I know I won't be able to post this until the moment passes, but recording it as it happens currently seems important..
I've gathered my fire wood for the night, watched the last of the dirt bike riders roll away in their toy haulers, and filled myself with an "88 Burger" (so called the "only" place to eat in town (which is about 15 miles away)).
The silence is broken only by the few chirping birds, the crackle of the evening's fire echoing through the chimney, the muted rush of the creek down below, and the occasional buzzing of a mosquito in my ear. The temperature has dropped considerably since the sun set a half hour ago, and it will continue to get colder as the night sets in. I'm surrounded by the El Dorado National Forest, and the evergreens are all that I can see. It's really a beautiful place.
I haven't taken a single photograph since I've been at the camp; I'm not sure why. Maybe the overwhelming nature of this place is assuring me that I would never capture it anyway.
I've encountered many obstacles since I've been here; most of them involving the plumbing of the irrigation system. The camp is entirely supplied with water by the Sopiago Springs (bottled under the Black Mountain Spring Water name), which makes for an extremely complex system of pipes and valves throughout the property. It's rather humorous, though, to remember while on the can that you're crapping in $5/gallon spring water.
For the first time in my life, I'm drinking a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale in the Sierra Nevada Mountains; something I've secretly been looking forward to for years.
For the first time in my life I've been challenged with the prospect that the dwelling in which I would live is heated only by a wood burning stove or the optional propane burner. The intermittent electricity is sourced from a combination of solar panels and a gasoline generator. The hot water tank is also heated by the 500 gallon propane tank sitting outside (which is currently empty). I haven't had regular cell phone reception since I got here, and it works only marginally in town. The internet is another scarce commodity, the only source of which I've found is a little coffee shop called "Bubs" in Pine Grove. --
(-- side note-- As I finished that sentence, I instinctually paused for the rustling in the woods in front of me. Not that I could see it in the fading ambient light, but I've also managed to lose my glasses in the last couple of days making it impossible to decipher shapes in the shadows of the pines. It's a rather sizable animal, and I'm glad that I'm elevated from the forest floor by several feet and within 2 seconds of the house door.)
I mention all of this not because I'm whining or feeling defeated by the difficulty of life here; I've lead a pretty comfortable and convenient life, but I'd like to think that I'm certainly no stranger to hardship.
It seems as though it's a recurring theme in recent years of my life, and the thing that troubles me most is the absence of those who I love. I'm constantly reminded of a question posed by Neil Young; "..So you say you're leavin' home, 'cause you want to be alone..ain't it funny how it feels when you're findin' out it's real?..".
The realization that I've come to is that this lifestyle is not one which is conducive to social interaction. There is a small family of people who visit the camp regularly, and even two other residents within a 5 minute walk, but an environment like this which breeds these kinds of 'necessary' friendships, is not exactly the one that I'm looking for.
Although not officially licensed and open for business, Sopiago even welcomes groups of people a couple of times a month; with the most recent being 150 dirt bike riders who held a Ronald McDonald House fundraiser this weekend. There were swarms of people, and almost every one of them was an avid motorcyclist.. or at least a motorsports enthusiast of some kind. So why such the long face when surrounded by all of these like-minded people? These interactions are either of the necessary type, or the temporary.
___
So I've made my decision. It was an instinct that caught me more off-guard that any of my lifetime. I had planned everything around this, and had drastically changed my life in the pursuit of arriving at the place in which I sit right now; and I'm leaving in the morning.
However spontaneous, though, this instinct must be recognized, and I can't quite decide whether I'm impressed at my own intuition, or dumbfounded that I've been wearing rose-colored glasses for so many months.
I've always professed that there is no such thing as regret- only things we do, and things we do not do.. And this situation, while on a much larger scale, is certainly no exception. The last month since leaving Cleveland has been nothing short of transcendental. It feels like a lifetime ago that I lived daily life on E. 30th st..
If nothing else, this endeavor has afforded me the opportunity to travel; to embark on the transcontinental motorcycle ride that I've dreamt about for at least ten years.. And it's been so much more than that.. The experiences along the way have instilled every emotion imaginable; excitement, fear, rage, despair, love, loneliness, gratitude, awe, inspiration... the list goes on-
It's all been a beautiful experience. The sounds of the ocean roaring hundreds of feet beneath me on the California coast, the smell of the Eucalyptus trees towering overhead as I ride, the beauty and grandeur of the Smokies, the Santa Catalina's, Big Bend, Joshua Tree, the Sierra's, & the coast.. The feeling of elation when I twisted on the throttle of my GS for the first time, the laugher that continued for days thereafter, and the peace that comes with freedom like this.
The only problem with all of this, and the part that dulls the experience and makes the freedom just a little bit bitter-sweet, is not having actually shared it. Thank all of you loyal readers for coming along on this journey with me. All of your support has proven to be much more meaningful and significant than you can imagine.
At this point, I am, for potentially the first time ever, completely un-tethered, uninhibited, open minded, and even a little lost. But I suppose it's time that I consider my own philosophy that sometimes you have to get a little lost in order to find your way.
I'm not sure what's next- for tomorrow, for the next day, for next week, or next month; the only thing I can say for sure is that as the sun rises over the ridge and floods the valley with warmth, I'll be portable again and riding.. and when the sun sets tomorrow and it's time again to lay and rest, it won't be here.
________________
-k
__________________________________
It's now Monday morning, and in the words of Mr. Miyagi:
"Sun shining, grass green; everything be ok"
let's ride.
I've gathered my fire wood for the night, watched the last of the dirt bike riders roll away in their toy haulers, and filled myself with an "88 Burger" (so called the "only" place to eat in town (which is about 15 miles away)).
The silence is broken only by the few chirping birds, the crackle of the evening's fire echoing through the chimney, the muted rush of the creek down below, and the occasional buzzing of a mosquito in my ear. The temperature has dropped considerably since the sun set a half hour ago, and it will continue to get colder as the night sets in. I'm surrounded by the El Dorado National Forest, and the evergreens are all that I can see. It's really a beautiful place.
I haven't taken a single photograph since I've been at the camp; I'm not sure why. Maybe the overwhelming nature of this place is assuring me that I would never capture it anyway.
I've encountered many obstacles since I've been here; most of them involving the plumbing of the irrigation system. The camp is entirely supplied with water by the Sopiago Springs (bottled under the Black Mountain Spring Water name), which makes for an extremely complex system of pipes and valves throughout the property. It's rather humorous, though, to remember while on the can that you're crapping in $5/gallon spring water.
For the first time in my life, I'm drinking a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale in the Sierra Nevada Mountains; something I've secretly been looking forward to for years.
For the first time in my life I've been challenged with the prospect that the dwelling in which I would live is heated only by a wood burning stove or the optional propane burner. The intermittent electricity is sourced from a combination of solar panels and a gasoline generator. The hot water tank is also heated by the 500 gallon propane tank sitting outside (which is currently empty). I haven't had regular cell phone reception since I got here, and it works only marginally in town. The internet is another scarce commodity, the only source of which I've found is a little coffee shop called "Bubs" in Pine Grove. --
(-- side note-- As I finished that sentence, I instinctually paused for the rustling in the woods in front of me. Not that I could see it in the fading ambient light, but I've also managed to lose my glasses in the last couple of days making it impossible to decipher shapes in the shadows of the pines. It's a rather sizable animal, and I'm glad that I'm elevated from the forest floor by several feet and within 2 seconds of the house door.)
I mention all of this not because I'm whining or feeling defeated by the difficulty of life here; I've lead a pretty comfortable and convenient life, but I'd like to think that I'm certainly no stranger to hardship.
It seems as though it's a recurring theme in recent years of my life, and the thing that troubles me most is the absence of those who I love. I'm constantly reminded of a question posed by Neil Young; "..So you say you're leavin' home, 'cause you want to be alone..ain't it funny how it feels when you're findin' out it's real?..".
The realization that I've come to is that this lifestyle is not one which is conducive to social interaction. There is a small family of people who visit the camp regularly, and even two other residents within a 5 minute walk, but an environment like this which breeds these kinds of 'necessary' friendships, is not exactly the one that I'm looking for.
Although not officially licensed and open for business, Sopiago even welcomes groups of people a couple of times a month; with the most recent being 150 dirt bike riders who held a Ronald McDonald House fundraiser this weekend. There were swarms of people, and almost every one of them was an avid motorcyclist.. or at least a motorsports enthusiast of some kind. So why such the long face when surrounded by all of these like-minded people? These interactions are either of the necessary type, or the temporary.
___
So I've made my decision. It was an instinct that caught me more off-guard that any of my lifetime. I had planned everything around this, and had drastically changed my life in the pursuit of arriving at the place in which I sit right now; and I'm leaving in the morning.
However spontaneous, though, this instinct must be recognized, and I can't quite decide whether I'm impressed at my own intuition, or dumbfounded that I've been wearing rose-colored glasses for so many months.
I've always professed that there is no such thing as regret- only things we do, and things we do not do.. And this situation, while on a much larger scale, is certainly no exception. The last month since leaving Cleveland has been nothing short of transcendental. It feels like a lifetime ago that I lived daily life on E. 30th st..
If nothing else, this endeavor has afforded me the opportunity to travel; to embark on the transcontinental motorcycle ride that I've dreamt about for at least ten years.. And it's been so much more than that.. The experiences along the way have instilled every emotion imaginable; excitement, fear, rage, despair, love, loneliness, gratitude, awe, inspiration... the list goes on-
It's all been a beautiful experience. The sounds of the ocean roaring hundreds of feet beneath me on the California coast, the smell of the Eucalyptus trees towering overhead as I ride, the beauty and grandeur of the Smokies, the Santa Catalina's, Big Bend, Joshua Tree, the Sierra's, & the coast.. The feeling of elation when I twisted on the throttle of my GS for the first time, the laugher that continued for days thereafter, and the peace that comes with freedom like this.
The only problem with all of this, and the part that dulls the experience and makes the freedom just a little bit bitter-sweet, is not having actually shared it. Thank all of you loyal readers for coming along on this journey with me. All of your support has proven to be much more meaningful and significant than you can imagine.
At this point, I am, for potentially the first time ever, completely un-tethered, uninhibited, open minded, and even a little lost. But I suppose it's time that I consider my own philosophy that sometimes you have to get a little lost in order to find your way.
I'm not sure what's next- for tomorrow, for the next day, for next week, or next month; the only thing I can say for sure is that as the sun rises over the ridge and floods the valley with warmth, I'll be portable again and riding.. and when the sun sets tomorrow and it's time again to lay and rest, it won't be here.
________________
-k
__________________________________
It's now Monday morning, and in the words of Mr. Miyagi:
"Sun shining, grass green; everything be ok"
let's ride.
posted by Dude at 11:16 AM
7 Comments:
BROTHER, Not being corny or anything. But the words you spoke (wrote) made me cry. Very powerful stuff man. Miss you.
Ev called it. I was thinking this was possibly one of the most beautiful blogs I have read to date. You should definitely be impressed by your intuition, I know I am.
Wow~intense....glad to have been able to be a part of your "journey" to find yourself again. Can't wait to see where the road will take you next. You just have to trust yourself, and your instinct, and everything will fall into place.....miss you, man.
Dude!
You had me a little worried when you dropped off the radar. But this post tells me that you're just flyin' low and fast. The 'old man' thinks your doing just fine and that your instincts are good.
You just keep working the problem at your own pace and you WILL sort it out.
As for missing that you did not have someone there beside you to with which to share this journey; PAH! you know better young grasshopper. If you had had a companion, the journey would have been very different for them and it would have eaqually altered yours.
DOC
K - I know from personal experience that when it's right, you know and when it's really wrong (for the time, place, person) you know that too, though sometimes it's really hard to admit it. You are so right to move on and change your course since you feel the way you do... (applause)
Enjoy the journey...
Dude. Hope you find your Sugar Mountain.
Your writing is so expressive, thoughtful - carrying that dictionary in your pocket really paid off - you'll just have to use that unique talent - couple with photography of course.
Enjoy the moment Dad
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