What lays just behind that far hazy ridge? What road might be hidden there to rumble my motorcycle along? It's like art. All light and shapes. New scents and sounds. Unknown things that wake up a routine wearied soul.
Unfished Streams to stalk trout... Trails to walk... Roads to ride and always more misty blue horizons running off into the distance.
It's as if hope itself resides in the distance. That if I can summon the strength and the persistence to keep chasing it... maybe one day, at the end of some new rainbow I'll actually find that pot of Hope.
I am not alone in my quest. The Stone Cairn builders who left their mark in the desert... have wandered here in the high rockies.
|*a stone cairn left by ??? What were their thoughts as they built?*|
I can't help but think they seek much the same as I... I wonder how many find it? I'll never know. It's not something that can be shared around a fire.
It's Curly Washburn's That One Thing in City Slickers...
It's not coffee that can be poured from a pot. Or a cool brew that can be pulled from your ice box and handed to a thirsty traveler.
What we seek is determined by each wanderer. Success in finding It will be decided by each, somewhere along their trail.
We can only share shining bits of our own personal search to lend each other motivation and support.
We can only remind each other that in the end... it is probably the search that is the most shining part of the Journey... not achieving the goal.
We can only remind each other that when we choose to change our minds, or our methods they are only steps along the trail; Glorious Experiences along the journey.
|*The trail disappearing around bends into the unseen distance*|
I feel a growing need to Shake Things up. To break out of a growing routine. To cut holes in the "envelope" of convention that constantly works to recapture those who escape it.
I have a hunger for the tangy and sometimes sharp taste of the new and unknown.
"New and Unknown." people tell you; "People have been going there and doing that... for years! How is it new?"
It's NEW TO ME!
The rain on my helmet and the fresh, rain cleaned air of the Yukon was NEW.
The sight of the Glaciers sliding down out of the Mountains... was NEW.
The road along the Lochse in Idaho was NEW.
The huge surf crashing against the shore along the Oregon Coast was NEW...
You don't have to go to the ends of the earth to find NEW... to find "adventure".
You need only go where you've not gone before... or approach where you have gone... from a NEW direction.
Still Seeking Along an Unknown Trail