|BMWGSGirl, Gravel chicken|
That was years ago...and two bikes ago. And still, the gravel scares the bejesus out of me. There's something about being on gravel that is now too intimidating, too frightening, too dangerous. Given that, my 1200 GS hadn't been on more than 30 feet of gravel. And Runkle, poor pathetic dual sport Runkle, had only seen driveways.
|Runkle above Westir|
At some point you have a choice...keep following the gravel and stay along the waterline and head into Westfir...or shoot off on some random forest service road and see what waits ahead. Given my state of mind, it took half a second for me to decide to leave the safety and security of the shoreline.
Unfortunately, I had things to do and places to be so I took a few more offshoots, a few more photos then zipped back toward home.
It wasn't until I was safely back on the asphalt that I realized I'd just ridden more miles on gravel than I'd ever done in my life. Alone. And it wasn't scary but fun and liberating. And peaceful. It made me realize that no matter how awful life is, no matter what you face or who challenges you, as long as you keep moving, keep going forward, and keep facing your fears, it will be okay. It WILL work out.
My lack of belief in people, justice and fairness...it's still there. But now I am also suffering from a strong desire for freedom...the need to pack my camping gear and head southward...toward Mexico to live the dream I've always dreamed. Or to head north and into Alaska to get lost and fight mosquitos, to fish in streams where the fish are so big and tough that I would scream like a five year old girl when I hooked one.
So bring it, Life. Bring it. I'm ready for whatever you can throw.