Sometimes telling the story is an adventure in its own right.

I scheduled time to write. Following the new-age wisdom that one must schedule one's priorities, rather than prioritizing one's schedule, I set time aside to write. Ah, the strange effect of "having" to do something. I'm sitting here, having finished my breakfast, with a cup of coffee and my laptop, trying figure out what story to share. It seems kind of absurd, really. In the last 2 weeks I've enjoyed 3 adventures, of varying scales. I've been on other adventures since I last sat down and committed them to prose, as well. Yet I still struggle to identify the stories those adventures hold.

Here's the trouble. I write from my emotional impression of the event. My prosaic talent is to translate a single theme into an entertaining mess of images which, because I work with words, come to life uniquely in the mind of the reader. Unfortunately, I've not had a big emotional epiphany related to any of my recent adventures. It seems I've become too skilled at preparing for the level of adventure I've been pursuing.

I think adventuring may be similar to any other art. Restrictions enhance. Taking away the superfluous, leaving only the essence of the experience, is key to challenging oneself, and therefor, key to learning from one's experience.

Of my various interests, motorcycling tops the passion charts. I don't remember a time when I wasn't enthralled with moving across the landscape, seeing and experiencing whatever happened to be there. For me, motorcycling provides an excellent balance of being in-the-world and moving through the world. When there's wind, the wind acts against directly on the motorcyclist's body. When there's odor, the motorcyclist smells it, there are no windows to roll up. When there's rain or snow, the motorcyclist is in the rain or snow. It's an extremely direct experience, even when wearing a full kit of protective gear.

Bicyclists, runners, and others moving under their own power feel this even more. They trade the exhilaration of huge distances over short periods of time for a more intense connection to the world as it is and, of course, that sensation of power that comes with physical exertion.

I've been riding motorcycles on the street for a little of 4 years now. I would be out riding some unbearably straight rode and see an interesting looking road snaking away from my own designated course and lament that it wasn't paved. So I bought a bike that was a little more capable on more diverse conditions than the race inspired super-sport I rode at the time. Mind you, I haven't given up the super-sport. Instead, I started a new addiction, adding motorcycles to my collection.

With a new (to me) bike and the abundance of confidence that has inspired me to get into, and out of, trouble so often, I started riding beyond the pavement. The thing is, I knew I was clueless. Sure, I can take it easy and just let the bike move under me. That worked for the easy stuff, but I was certainly not ready for anything truly wild.

I took a class. Off Road 101 with Puget Sound Safety Off Road. Boy oh boy! I learned so much in that class. It was everything one needs to handle a bike in the loose stuff, so long as you don't get carried away. Dealing with obstacles, super-slow-speed maneuvers (we're talking balancing the bike while stopped), keeping the front end planted, hill climbing. There are skills we didn't cover, but it was enough for me to start exploring Forest Roads and being more confident following my more experienced dirt riding friends.

The bike I use when I intend to ride rough roads is not an off-road bike. The front wheel is too small, the bike is too heavy, and the suspension is both to hard and too short. All that said, it's brilliant on all but the roughest of roads. It has enough torque to lift the front wheel over potholes, and with the setup changes I've made is easy to ride standing up so I can let the bike move under me. I've been getting pretty confident on forest roads, even when I inevitably tip the bike over. Oh yeah, there too much expensive plastic on this bike, too. So when I had the opportunity for a proper back-country adventure with friends, I seized it. But that's not where this story begins. 

I'll start at the beginning in my next installment.