How hard it is to explain the feelings I am having, sitting here in my home, one year after making the journey of a lifetime.  I review the journal entries and the photos that I took on the trip. I remember the kindness of strangers, who were not strangers for long. I remember the sometimes tedious miles in the rains of the Northeast, or the oppressive heat of the Southwest. It calls to me still.

The road during the 86 days I was gone was sometimes so black that it was indistinguishable from the surroundings. It was sometimes so white that the reflected glare caused my eyes to water to such an extent that I wore clip on sunglasses AND tinted goggles, in order to find my path. The road is still a seamless ribbon that surrounds this vast country, in the memory of this driver.

I had covered 33 of our Continental United States and the District of Columbia. People were pretty much the same, regardless of where the kickstand supported the bike. People were either very helpful, or less than interested in me. I didn't find that to be a problem, just a fact. In retrospect, I found southern hospitality to be every bit as "hospitable" as northern, eastern, and western hospitality. It didn't  matter where the people were from, or where they now lived. I sit here, a year after the journey, and feel that there is hope for us. I mean that sincerely.

I was asked if I would ever repeat the perimeter run ever again. I don't think I would want to do it alone, but I certainly would do parts of it again, even if I had to do it alone. Again, in thinking back, I am happy that I was able to reacquaint myself with old friends, and make new friends along the way. I was asked during a subsequent Television interview, if I ever walked up to the bike and thought to myself "God, what have I done?". Another question asked of me was whether I ever wished I hadn't started to undertake such a tremendous trip. Honestly, the answer is this: I never EVER regretted starting out in the rain. I never regretted continuing on in the heat of Texas and Arizona. When those rare days hit, that I just didn't feel like driving............... I DIDN'T DRIVE. But, I can honestly say that those days were very few and far between. Before leaving I had promised my family that I would be as safe as possible. I kept that promise. I managed to cover 16,152 miles without major mishap. I wasn't injured in any way, other than in my ego when I happened to drop the motorcycle.  I never was the recipient of a traffic ticket, either.

THAT alone is some kind of record, I am sure. In my mind, I am 8 days into the trip. In my mind, it has rained every day. There are strong memories playing in my brain tonight, thus the reason for another entry in the perimeterrun.info saga.

While I doubt that I will ever be gone for 86 consecutive days again (My Daughter has threatened me, if I do), I can't help but think of Willie Nelson's hit: "On the Road Again, I just can't wait to get on the road again.....".  I do know this, though. I am sure that for now, the trips I take will only be relatively short in terms of days on the road. I'll just have to make up for it by putting as many miles in as my butt will allow.

 

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