Be it Ever so Humble

As many of you may have gathered from photos posted to our Facebook page and Instagram account, Adam and I spent a large portion of our accommodations in a tent. We received our Seedhouse SL2 second hand from a neighbor not long before the trip started; One of many gifts we would receive on this adventure. Whether we were in freezing cold rain just a stone's throw from the base of Mt. Hood, in a Midwestern thunder storm, camped in parking lots, backyards, carnival grounds, or Noseeum infested campgrounds, this light weight backpackers tent somehow managed to keep us warm, dry, and comfortable in any location. We also loved that we could pack it into a small dry bag and tie it to the front of my handlebars. After all, mobility is everything. 

 After a few weeks on the road, we found that our tent was providing more to us than shelter from the elements at night. We quickly came to understand that the tent became a home base and, shortly after, our home. There were many times we felt overwhelmed or had a rough day of riding. It was always soothing as we pulled off and stacked our shoes in the tiny vestibule as we did the intricate dance of those sharing a two person backpackers tent do. Not only did our tent protect us from the elements, it gave us a safe haven where we could rest, collect our thoughts, and strategize for the next day of adventure. At one point we found ourselves with a massive rip in the rain fly (I have a theory that Sasquatch tried to walk through the tent in the middle of the night). Lucky for us we happened to be in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, which is the town Big Agnes is based out of. I called them up, told them our story, and before we knew it we were getting a tour of the coolest place chock full of adventure gear geniuses. We got the Sasquatch rip taken care of and even got to sit around with the sewing crew and talk gear for a while. The great times and incredible luck in Steamboat Springs are just one example of how things generally went for us and our tiny home. If we really needed a place to stay, we would always eventually find it. And when we needed a place to find peace and regroup, there was no better place to find it than at home, wherever home happened to be pitched for the night.

Like ripples in a pond...

When we first began planning this journey, we spent a lot of time gathering inspiration from sources around us. From documentaries, to blogs, to people out on the internet doing crazy adventures and amazing things. These people were what inspired us to keep trucking, put on a happy face about what we were trying to achieve, and keep moving forward. The thing of it is, while you're trying to pull something like this off, you become incredibly self centered. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't mean self centered in an ego maniacal God complex kind of way. I mean the kind of self centered, self focused zone that puts you in a place where it doesn't even occur to you what the rest of the world may think. To be frank, we were under the assumption that nobody would care or even notice what we were doing. Imagine my shock in Florence Oregon, just a week into our journey when I was having a conversation with someone and they told me how inspiring this journey was. For months we were telling everyone that we were going to load up these tiny bikes and take off. The secret was that we weren't sure we were going to make it very far- we were excited to simply make it to Portland, Oregon and back again. But we carried on. All the while meeting more and more folks that were absolutely floored by the distance we've traveled and most of them telling us we were inspiring them in one way or another. This is the interesting thing about inspiration; the more people we meet that tell us it inspires them, the more we want to move forward. The really incredible thing to me lately, is the reaction we're getting from people that we were drawing inspiration from before we left home. Large motorcycle owners and small moped jockies alike are all absolutely thrilled to meet us and talk with us about our journey. These are names in the game that once upon a time I'd looked up and thought how cool it would be to meet them, and now here they are, asking us to stop by and meet them, or even answer a few questions for an article in a publication they work for. Like I said, when we took off from little Medford, Oregon, we didn't think anyone would care. But they do. And that gives the drive- the inspiration to carry on......

Day 10, Washington

As I sit here typing this, I'm taking in the view of the Oregon side of the Columbia river gorge. We've been riding all day from Hood River. We're on one of those stretches of highway in Washington that warns us of "no gas for 82 miles". What that sign didn't tell us was that there was going to be absolutely nothing for the next 82 miles. We came upon what was technically a tiny town, since they had a post office about 45 minutes before we stopped for the night. The tiny post office was about there was, other than a large neighborhood. Oh! There was a small store and diner that unfortunately had closed 20 minutes before we rolled through. A bit dismayed we prepared to roll out of town when I remembered that our water bottles were either empty or well on their way. So we rode through the neighborhood until we saw a father and son on their front porch and asked if we could fill our water bottles from their hose. They both retreated inside and after I thought they weren't coming back, they came out with three bottles of water. So we had bare neccesities and down the highway we went. We all knew we weren't going to find any campground or forest service land of any kind, so we started to scavange a spot off the highway to sleep for the night. What we found is by far one of the prettiest spots on the gorge. With a wind farm across the wide expanse of the Columbia, we spent the night in the perfect spot. The highway was below us, the stars blanketing us from above, while the huge electrial lines behind us hummed like giant robotic crickets. We have found our bliss and it hasn't cost us a dime. This is something I've began to realize while out on the road; not everyone has the means to take a journey like ours and it has nothing to do with money...