I occasionally put up a paypal button because people keep asking me to so they can send money. Believe me, this site is free for everyone. I will continue writing no matter what. And I hate those scammy flashing ads that google would like to put up here so it will always be ad free. Being a motorcycling minimalist means that nobody would sponsor my riding anyway. I buy all of my gear on Craigslist. The only sponsors I need are the folks who like to read my travel tales and send me gas money from time to time.

Ron was wondering in the comments what I was doing with myself hanging out in Arizona. The short answer is not much. Lately I took a look at the front of my sister’s house and decided that it was floating in a sea of gravel:

So with her permission, I painted the front planter a deep terra cotta to anchor the house so it looks more grounded. And this is what it looks like this evening:

It blends with the terra cotta tile roof and gravel and contrasts nicely with the stylized glass block saguaro cactus that the previous owner put in the entry to let light in.

There you have it.

Back in the previous century there weren’t many people writing about motorcycle travel in foreign lands. One book that inspired me was “Jupiter Travels” by Ted Simon. He took off around the world back in the 70’s and wrote a book about it. It’s a great read if you get the chance. Ted is a fairly shy man. I met him at a BMW rally 10 or 15 years ago back when I was riding bigger BMWs. He had just ridden around the world a second time retracing his original route. He was old enough to be my father, and it was encouraging to see that I too could be exploring the world for a few more decades. Today I found an interview with Ted on YouTube: Motolombia flew him down for a tour in Colombia. He is now 84. Wow! Cool.

People around the world have heard about national parks in the United States like the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, and Yosemite

Scootard brought to my attention in the comments that there are 58 in total. So I checked out what is around here in Arizona to go check out with my new Golden Eagle Passport. Plus there are 113 National Monuments. I visited Chiracahua National Monument last month down in Southeast Arizona. It was an Apache hideout back in the day. Up through a canyon to a mountaintop. Here are a couple pics from the hiking trail.

I’d never heard of it before. Arizona alone has a lot of hidden treasures to check out. Like sunset on the cliffs behind Sedona on that same weekend of wandering

I just came across this indiegogo campaign. It is over now but I thought it was such an inventive way to help fund a ride to South America:

Always inspiring to see how lateral thinking people can come up with unusual and creative ideas. She embroiders interesting collages of motorcycles, moto part schematics and maps. She hides smaller ones in caches for people to find. Can't say I've seen that done before. If I had to make a quilt I would definitely go with her hand stitched moto theme. Although instead of a Triumph it would have to be a Sherpa. Cool beans:

Her website on blogger looks way better than mine. She is currently in Southern Mexico heading south on her 250:

http://thefrighteningandbeautiful.blogspot.com

Same blogger website so I guess I have to go read up on how to get this here blog better looking like hers.

I will be turning 62 next month. Can’t wait. You can buy one of these for ten bucks when you turn 62:

The Golden Eagle Passport is good for life and allows any U.S. citizen over 62 years old free entry to any National Park or National Monument. Whoo doggies!!! The nice thing about it is that anyone traveling with you gets in free as well. In fact when I was riding into Crater Lake National Park with my friends Jim and Ann a while back, Jim flashed this pass and got us all in even though we were on 3 different motorcycles.

The last time I rode througn Yellowstone Park they charged me 20 bucks. Same as the carload of folks in front of me. And I was on a motorcycle. Didn’t seem fair.

Might have to make a National Park Tour with my new free pass to make up for it.

Do you remember when you were young and time expanded and the days were longer?

The last week before Christmas took forever! And the last week of school before the holidays dragged out to eternity. I can still see the round black clock on the classroom wall. That hour hand sometimes took half a day to go from 2 to 3. And then the blessed bell would ring and we were free at last!!!!!!!

Time expands when you travel as well. It’s like when you were a kid. I’ve been wondering why that is. Maybe because everything is new again. So much of what you normally block out since you’ve seen it a thousand times in your day to day existence suddenly isn’t there. Everything is different.

You cross over a border and the people are different, the money is different, the food is different. You have to pay attention to a whole new set of rules. Even in countries that speak the same language the words are different, the accent is different, the slang is different.

Now that I think about it maybe that is what I enjoy about living a nomadic life. It keeps you on your toes. Even here in the United States where I am sitting typing this you would think that it is one large country. And it is on the one hand. But Texas is not the same as Maine or Arizona.

You don’t find roadside stands in Texas serving lobster sandwiches. And I never saw Texas barbeque joints in Maine. Not to mention great Mexican food. In the northern plains where I come from there is no decent Mexican food anywhere. In Texas I got an excellent breakfast burrito from a junk truck parked in the parking lot at a Home Depot home improvement center. And it can be hard for a Texan and Mainer to carry on a conversation since their version of English is quite different

You would think that English is the common language of the United States. Well sort of. But when riding the tail of the dragon in North Carolina and stopping for gas, the store keepers might ask, “Wayull, whayr yawl frum?” If you’re from Nebraska you might have to say pardon me and have them repeat the question.

Even in New Zealand where you’ve read in books that they speak English you might be surprised when you stop in the southern mountains outside Dunedin where the Scots settled and they speak Kiwi English with Scottish overtones. I went into a little grocery store which they call dairies down there. The lady said, “tis a bit weet outside.” I stared blankly. It was raining cats and dogs outside and I finally realized that she was saying it was wet outside. Yes, yes it was.