All my possessions are scattered everywhere in Angie’s bedroom. Water
purification tablets over there. A mosquito net here. There’s the
Thermarestｨ and the sleeping bag. Wait! Where’s the tent? I know I
brought it. Is it still in the back of the GTO? Shit. Did I forget it?
Did it get packed into my storage container? I run up the stairs to the
other bedroom and rip through the closet. Ahhh. I had stashed a few more
boxes here. And there. There’s no way all of this is going to fit on the
bike. I’ve still yet to make a tool box out of 3″ PVC and attach it to
the front of the bike. This will bring more wait to the front in an
effort to maintain balance to the motorcycle.
The fireworks above Legoland are glorious. I can’t help but thinking
this is for me. But as I gaze over the families, lovers and children
craning their necks to see the colorful splendor and realize that no one
here knows what I’m about to do. Would they care? Jaws would drop. But
as the fireworks red glare and burst in the air I hold Angie tight next
to me and I think about the hardest part of leaving.
Nope. I’m behind schedule. Looks like I’m leaving tomorrow or the next