I’ve been absent from this place for some time now. Over the course of the last year my life, and this project, have under gone some pretty drastic change and, quite honestly, I’m still struggling to understand the why, how, and what it means for moving forward. But every day brings new light as they say, and I continue to discover lessons and old wisdom that helps me understand. I don’t know what all this change means for the Nature of Motion, or even myself, but when I re-examine the mission, when I am reminded of all our adventures, challenges, discoveries, the style and satisfaction of our travel, I am heartened and inspired. Really, I just want to get back on the damn bike.
I’m not going to beat around the bush anymore, or speak in cryptic cliches. This space has always held a certain rawness and realness for me, one where I’m not only free to speak my mind and be accountable for my actions, but one where sometimes I’m bound to it. The big change in my life and N.O.M. is a dramatic shift in the cast of characters. Our secret weapon, the Lizard, El Coco Loco, is gone. She hit the road for new opportunities and a better future, and she won’t be joining in any of our adventures anytime soon. Not only does this change the dynamic of N.O.M. but it seriously alters my outlook on life, as I no longer have a smart, spunky, and beautiful sidekick to make me laugh, smile, and feel whole.
But don’t despair, and don’t offer your condolences, for I’ve got no one to blame but myself, for a lady deserves better than back breaking bike rides, camping in cow-pastures, and crummy partners, and at times I offered her all that and more, that she didn’t ask for or deserve.
Last spring I also dislocated my shoulder and have since struggled to become confident climbing, skiing, or doing many of the things that I love. So I’ve been pretty sad, sad Liz is gone and that I drove her off, sad I’m injured and that my health isn’t what it could be, but it’s all taught me a hell of a lot and I’m trying my best to learn each lesson and improve where I can. While I do, I want you to know, dear reader, that I’m not sure what this space will look like in the futurte or how it will change, but it’s in my thoughts often and I’m still planning for its future. Until then, this site is under construction, or more accurately, this life is under construction… that shit fell apart and I’m doing my best to focus and build it back good and strong like, not all crooked and angry as before.
And I’m sorry. Sorry we won’t be seeing Liz’s smiling face here anymore, sorry we won’t be sharing in her exuberant company, but I think we all agree in wishing her the best on all her endeavors and adventures. And instead of feeling sorry for myself I’m trying to focus on building a life with less conflict and aggression, and more patience, forgiveness, and love. That’s no easy task, not even to describe, but I’m getting help from some amazing friends new and old, and I’m mining the finest ingredients: stoke, travel, fresh air, ocean, stoke, mountaintops, and more stoke. Wish me luck, as I do to you for whatever may be your goal. I’ll be seeing you around, until then enjoy a few shots from my last month on the road in California.
- Making turns down the whole dang mountain. Mine the stoke.
- Early am at Virgina Lakes after a night of snowfall.
- North Face of Mt. Winchell, Palasades, North Fork Big Pine.
- Life is a beach. Rock Creek just south of Mammoth, Ca.
- The ocean draws us in. Near Point Reyes, Ca.
- JB milks our last turns in the Palasades on the shoulder of Mt Agassiz, North Fork, Big Pine.
- Marching ahead on hope and prayer. It’s amazing how far a little faith and optimism will get you. Palisades.
- Feeling tiny while making our exit from the North Palisade Glacier.
- Karsen can’t contain the stoke, high on the shoulder of Mt Agassiz. Mt Sill pierces the sky in the background.
- Interludes at Camp keep priorities strait.
- Space and stone. Benton Crossing, Ca.
- What corn? Holding fast at Virgina Lakes.