It was late summer. We decided to hike most of the ten miles at night to avoid the heat and enjoy the full moon. Sitting on a ledge overlooking the valley I had hiked to again and again through my life I shared an earnest, if idle, dream with my friend. He paused and took a pull from the flask, the whisky maybe lending some weight to his response, “You know you could actually do that, right?”
A few days later I walked into my boss’s office and told her my intentions. I had worked for the university for five years practicing ecological restoration and fulfilling other various capacities within an amazing organization. It was my dream job. But for a new dream to begin the first must end, however difficult to wake yourself from it.
With little more experience on a motorcycle than my dirt bike joyrides through the neighborhood orchards as a kid, I bought a sturdy adventure bike and outfit it with everything I would need for a journey around the continent.
And then I went.