Amanda Rae Was Here...

I considered driving across the country on a motorcycle.

That brilliant idea lasted all of five minutes, during the ride my dad and I took this weekend on our respective bikes, my first this season. (Even though I’m a thirteen-year veteran of the sport (Really—do the math), I’m mildly superstitious and have been filled with trepidation in the wake of my recent bad-luck streak. Turns out, it was the same as always: wild, and like…riding a bike.)

It’s addictive, being out there, with the road whirring along inches beneath your feet, wholly vulnerable and completely fearless at the same time, without much protection to speak of and virtually zero distraction. It’s just you, traveling through nature, enjoying the things you can’t when trapped inside a box: feeling the temperature drop a few degrees as you climb up the mountain in Windsor, Mass.; inhaling the sweet smell of damp fern at the edge of the Mohawk State Forest; zooming through a flurry of dandelion fuzz while crossing the Little Hoosic River. You might see a sherbet-yellow butterfly flitting across the road, its tiny button body making the voyage haphazard and carefree. You might make eye contact with a dragonfly, a split-second before it splatters into your face shield. You don’t dare try to wipe the remains away; that will just make more of a mess. All of these details are nonexistant when traveling by car.

My parents (who celebrate their thirtieth wedding anniversary tonight, a feat in and of itself!) made the journey together on two wheels from Vermont to California and back again in 1979, and I’ve always thought about how supremely Bad Ass it would be to follow in their, uh, tracks.

But then I remember: it’s 2011, it’s just me, and I’m too much of a modern girl to enjoy an endeavor that requires such incredible sacrifice. I’m seeking enlightenment, not leg cramps. I want to carry more than a few extra changes of clothing; my camping gear alone takes up the space of a small human! I’m lugging a laptop, cell phone, camera, and chargers, cables, and cases for all of ‘em. Not to mention the sheer physical exertion of submitting oneself to sun and heat and wind for hours on end, day after day, all while dealing with weather patterns that could shift at a moment’s notice and drivers who may or may not be three-quarters distracted…No, thanks.

A righteous accomplishment it would be, for sure, but it’s not for me. Besides, I have only a few footwear options left; why on earth would I choose to limit myself to wearing a single pair of boots for the next 3+ months?