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I am getting ready for my huge motorcycle trip to Alaska. I told Denise at blogher that I was doing this trip she said, “Oh, a quest!”
I had never thought of this empty-nest inspired trip as a quest but she is right. This is a quest for me, a quest for me to find answers to my questions about what I want to do with the rest of my life. Both words – quest and question – come from the Latin word quaerere, which means to seek. (Thanks, Mom and Dad, for paying for four years at Cornell so that I can write that!) So, yes, this is a quest for me and I’m seeking my self.
But I have to be honest and admit that I haven’t really done a lot. I am like a valet parking kind of trip preparer. I want someone else to take the keys to my car and go park it in a convenient space. And I like that my husband Jonny has done all the shopping for our gear.
I think men are to gear what women are to shoes. It’s like unconditional love. You don’t have to be gorgeous or at the perfect weight to try on a pair of shoes (for gals) or to buy that high-tech non-combustible tent (for guys).
Whatever Jonny has wanted to buy, I say, “Great!” I did the shopping for shampoo and toothpaste. Of course, a girl wants to take her favorite shampoo, right?
I don’t care if I have to wear the same stinky shirt over and over – and over – again. It’s the little things that count. For example, I have to have a journal with me. Not a sightseeing journal but my very own private journal in which I can be my most private self in. I found a little leather-bound one but I’m debating whether it’s too little.
Another friend Larry asked if I was doing anything to prepare for the trip physically. One kind, well-meaning motorcyclist acquaintance told me, “You’re going to burn your butt off!” But how do I prevent that? There’s no exercise for that. What I have been doing is some more push-ups as well as the push-ups you can do off the edge of your chair (extend your legs and raise yourself). These are good exercises if the motorcycle happens to fall and I have to pick it up. Then again, it is extremely doubtful that no matter how many push-ups I do, I’ll be able to pick up a 370+ pound motorcycle. I wonder if I’d just start to cry and leave that hefty red BMW lying on the dirt…That’s just one example of what I’ll learn about myself on this trip. If I’ll act like the tough, strong superwoman I make myself out to be or resort to old tactics…
I really don’t know anything about motorcycles!
I don’t know how to change a tire, I barely know what a throttle is, and I’m really not one of those tough strong superwomen who can make myself useful in anything that has to do with mechanics.
A friend of mine asked me how big the engine of this BMW is and I looked at him and dropped my jaw.
“I’m supposed to know that?” I asked indignantly. Then I turned to his wife and said, “I know what color it is! It’s red!”
