There is still no plan for a big summer trip this year. I’m in the process of moving from southern Arizona to Kentucky, via Lake Tahoe, California, but with it being mostly interstate, there is little to get excited about as far as photography is concerned. I spent some time in Las Vegas helping a friend with a used truck he purchased, then shot up out of the desert heat into the quiet reaches of Tahoe in a single day (about 450mi).
That allowed me to grab a few things in my storage unit, which also gave me the time to take stock of my many projects; things put on hold way back in July of 2020. For the first time though, I really thought about how much I wanted to start up on the m again. It’s possible the draw of the open road is waning, or maybe I’m just in a rut as far as dreaming up new adventures?
Either way, I think the biggest change this year is I will be close enough to the area I keep looking at as my number one choice of where to settle: the Blue Ridge Mountains. That means if a property does pop up that’s worth looking at, it’s a 4-5 hour ride instead of a plane ticket and a few days. Perhaps something will shift in the foggy realm of fate and a house will present itself with the things I need and a price I can manage…
But in the here-and-now I’m just working my way east, visiting friends along the way. One of my close friends has managed not only to buy a house, but find a wife and have a kid since I last saw him. I certainly had to stop by and see his spread, which is in the northwest corner of Colorado. High plains, so windy, but not as hot as the Utah desert.
He is working on building a proper homestead and the place is crawling with chickens, geese, ducks, goats, a few pigs, and of course a family of barn cats. There were some lambs, but my first night there one of them fell ill and died overnight after I helped bottle feed it ad keep it warm. That leaves just one of the original four. Such is life on a homestead though.
I’ve stayed extra days trying to help move some things around, set up a better watering system for the pigs, install an elk-proof front bumper on one of his trucks, and the like. He looks happy despite the long days outdoors and it’s great to see him and the little-woman making a house into a home. Fortunately their son Jameson is still young enough that he mostly just sleeps, so the only chaos around the house is the cats fighting over food scraps or the errant goose hopping the fence.
I’ll continue working my way east for another ten days or so, but I’m actually looking forward to arriving in Lexington. Though I have no connection to the place other than my sister living there, it will be a good base of operations to keep working on my book and to work more on a daily routine. Routine is easy to come by on the road, as daylight dictates when you make and break camp, and you spend less time awake at night since you are burning through batteries to have any light.
In a home, without a job or any family members that need me, I am free to live on a 24-hour clock, only needing to time things like groceries or going out to eat. Hopefully I can also take a few short trips up into Appalachia as well, but it will be a few days instead of six months, which just doesn’t ring of ‘adventure’ after four years of being on the road for at least half the year.
I’ve made one friend already in Lexington though who rides, so that may connect me to other riders and to local events. I’ve also reached out to Motorcycle Missions, another charity that focuses on veterans and motorcycles. Since they run more programs in a year than Veterans Charity Ride, my hope is to be more active and to build more of a community. I’ll be trying to meet up with them in person next month, and see where I can apply my skill-set most effectively.
Writing
I’m also planning to get more serious about this blog, posting articles that are more about sharing my knowledge than describing my travels. There will be some basics like dealing with flat tires and how to pack a motorcycle, camp-side cooking ideas and tricks, reviews of some of the apps I use for navigating and finding places to stay, and of course a sprinkling of “road wisdom” and my philosophical take on life on the road, or life in general.
I’ve been looking more seriously at the Johnny Killmore brand, thinking of better ways to steer it. Since I don’t want it to become a full-time job I’ve always left it slightly undefined—at least since I quit racing sidecars. But if I want people to take me seriously as a travel writer (or any kind of writer) I suppose I have to take myself seriously first.
The problem is the same as always though: inconsistent motivation. I’ve written in the past about intrinsic vs extrinsic motivation. We are often—like all animals—motivated by avoiding discomfort or seeking pleasure. These are outside of us. We work so we don’t get fired and get put out on the street. To be intrinsically motivated, we would work because we either enjoy the work itself or the results of the effort; the doing is the reward.
Since I am beholden to no one I have very little extrinsic motivation. I don’t need to sip umbrella drinks on a Caribbean beach, nor do I need a $100,000 car to feel good about myself. Hell, I don’t really seek approval or adulation, hence the reason I don’t ride famous roads or routes or check off bucket-list rides to impress other people.
While that’s all good and well, it means I need intrinsic motivation to accomplish anything beyond brushing my teeth and putting on clean socks every day. The ‘doing for the sake of doing’ concept is not lost on me, as I lived my life by that precept for many years. But, well, have you ever been at a party and, for no reason at all, you are simply “done?” The music isn’t vibing with you and even if the conversation is good, you’ve just had your fill?
Nothing wrong with the setting…you’re simply done. That’s where I’m at with travel, with writing, with everything. It’s not a complaint or lament; it is simply an observation. Self-reflection is good, as it allows you to see your position relative to your needs or desires. The problem arose for me when I realized there wasn’t a ‘next thing’ to pursue.
Future trippin’
It’s not permanent, but it’s been a feeling I’ve been long aware of. That’s why I reached out to do more charity work. It’s why I’m coming off the road for a bit to be more focused on my book, and why I’ve joined a writer’s critique group to help motivate me and refine my process.
It’s not doom-and-gloom, just the blank screen with that cursor blinking, waiting for you to start something new. People like to dismiss it as mid-life crisis, but a Corvette and a college age girlfriend are not a solution, so that trope is of no use—even for comedic effect.
But hey, I’ll be working to make this blog more informative and less a journal of my time on this Earth, I’ll work on the book, I’ll work on building community, and I’ll be increasing my efforts as a volunteer for charitable causes. That certainly doesn’t sound like someone who needs to lament, let alone buy a red convertible.
Johnny Killmore 