Cue the Intro.
I have gazed at the world in awe — at the road beneath me, the mountains beside me, and the blue sky overhead; and I have reached out and touched it — felt the rumble of two wheels and an engine rolling down a desolate road, the warmth of the sun on my face, and the energy of people I have met along the way.
And, in a flicker, it’s over. As much as I would like to hang onto it; bottle it; preserve it; time rolls on. This one’s a wrap.
It has been a wild trip; and I would like to take this opportunity to say thanks to everyone who played a part in opening my mind to the beauty and the mystery that’s out there (and now, also, in here): the people who supported me as I prepared; and those who supported me (and Gunther) while we were on the road; the people who sent me comments on- and off-line; those I met on (and off) the road; the guys from Chicago that bought me lunch (don’t worry, guys; when the Leafs win The Stanley Cup, it’ll be my turn); all the other bikers who waved when they passed (if you are ever wondering whether it makes a difference, it does); and the ones who kept me company at the rest stops and on the boats. And The Edmonton Eskimos.
The missing blog entries? Not to worry; I’ll try to fill in the gaps over the next while. And, if that doesn’t come to pass, you can read the whole story in the book.
“So, it’s one for the money;
But that don’t make the show;
Count to three and I’ll be ready;
To follow that road.”
Cue the Exit. (Eastern shore of Lake Michigan on the last night of this trip.)