Friday, May 14, 2010

Starting Point

Starting Point
I guess for me I never got too old to run away from home. Truth is I was in a terrible state of mind for about a week prior to leaving. I had no inspiration to do anything. I didn’t want to go anywhere or talk to anyone. Everone was just doing the same old shit. The 100 degree days had just hit the Sonoran desert. I was dissapointed that the gal I met with the motorcycle only rode that thing as a fashion accessory to her drinking hobby. And I was going to have to get on another damn plane soon to go to Dallas for work.
Most people think traveling for work would be fun. And it is if you like airports, hotels, restauraunts, and office building. Your whole surroundings are manufactured and you start feeling like you’re trapped to an itinerary and a lonely hotel room. Enough complaining, I got to get out of here.
Being that I’m back in Arizona writing this my mind is still over 1000 miles away. Planning the next route to take thinking if this was or is a good idea. Should I be tending to my many project or doing some maintainace around the house. Who can I get to watch my old dog when I leave again. Do I really need all this stuff that anchors me to one place. Boredom was getting the best of me again.
After I told my boss I was running away from home and I would meet her in Dallas. It only took 2 days to get my ducks in a row to get the hell out of Phoenix. Bought some last minute camping gear at Big 5. A small tent, a bed roll and something else I forgot. Loaded the bike with cheap tools from
Wal-Mart, and a fancy Co2 tire patch kit from Cycle gear. Drilled some holes and bolted down the worn out swap meet hard bags to the BMW.Some months prior I had traded an 84 FJ1100 for the 1987 K bike and in the deal I got $300 for a new set of tires. The BMW was severly cosmetically challenged compared to the FJ. The plastics and tank were 3 colors and the guy had went down hard on the right side due to the petrified tires. But it had low miles, ran great and by this time I had bought tires, painted it with satin black aerosol cans, sorted the gremlins and put about 1500 miles on it.
Today is the day. First thing, I modified the bags with some lamp parts I had from one of my art projects. And tied too much stuff to this hi-tech for 1987 beat up relic of a motorcycle. I decide if the bike breaks, I will push it over a cliff and walk home. I get pointed down the road a little after 9 a.m. 5/21/2009

1 comment:

  1. wait... motorbikes AREN'T fashion accessory's? SHIT!