Tick.... Tock...Tick.... Tock.... Anticipation...Tick...Tock.... Tick...Tock.... Anticipation
The moment just before "it" happens. It's a beverage glass slipping out of your hand, on it's way to shattering into innumerable glass shards on the dining room floor. It's the sharp breath your lungs demand before a nagging sneeze. It's knowing that you have to hold it another 5 miles until the next rest area. It's only a breath away now, just waiting to happen.

Do you ever feel this way? You know everything is in order, you are just waiting for the precise moment to arrive for which you have anxiously been waiting.

Anticipation - that is where I am right now. Anticipation of a lifelong dream in the midst of developing into reality. In the path of a plan turning into a procedure.

Since I was the eager age of seven, I've wondered what it would be like to explore. Remember, exploring to a seven year-old is not about conquering Antarctica, but wandering into local unknown territories, step by bold step. Well, finally, I'm pursuing that childhood dream.

In a short while I will be watching the sunrise while I thump along 31 North. Unfortunately, a "short" while is an eternity of 8 days away. If need be, I could leave within 5 minutes notice at any drop-of-a-hat.... 3 ½ minutes if I neglected brushing my teeth. The iron steed is loaded and well nourished. However, prior obligations (stuff.... like relatives' weddings) chain me to a structured existence for another 8 days (192 hours of life that I will never get to relive again). Anticipation.... of a 21 year-long-dream only 8 days away.

You see, I've not only been planning this trip since the God-less month of February, I've been avidly preparing for it also. The lower living area of our residence has been accumulating with things like scraps of paper I call "lists," critical necessities like moisture dissipating socks, CO2 inflating cans, and bolt-on gadgets. It has evolved, piece by piece, into the vital components for a 6,000+mile motorcycle camping trip along the United States continental divide.

Long before the first snow showed signs of receding this trip has been in the making. I am at the point now where I have made checklists of all my checklists.
"Tire-patch kit...check. CO2 cartridge...check. Commonly used sockets and wrench...check. Patches for air mattress...check. Batteries for air mattress pump...check. List of emergency/personal numbers...check. Tighten seat bolts after final fitting of tent/sleeping bag on rear fender...yet-to-be-checked."

I've over-analyzed each scenario that might arise on this trip at least 20 times, in hopes I am more than adequately prepared for it. I am more than ready to go. I'm living out of my travel kit in my own bathroom, for goodness sake! Believe it or not, but I am actually writing this piece for two reasons. First, it helps get the jitters out. I've been packing for the last few hours and I need to simmer down. Secondly, there's a thought lurking in my head that I'm missing something, and it will come to me while I type. I'm already anticipating the alarm clock going off at 4:30 a.m. Everything is in order, I'm just waiting for time. (Since writing this piece, I've become a half-hour closer to leaving!)

It's crazy, it really is.

This leads me to a question I've been dealing with for the past few weeks. What is it about a motorcycle trip that so invigorates ALL our senses??? Does the anticipation of an adventure consume you also? For some, anticipation is a nagging nest of gnats gnawing at your noggin'. It irritates. It consumes your thoughts to the point of exhaustion, even resentment. For others, it is like a spice that slowly seeps in, making the final product that much sweeter. Either way, anticipation is a great passion just slightly out of reach. What is it that invokes these feelings of anticipation? Is it the wind lavishly curling around us, giving us a taste of indescribable freedom.... is it the hearty and rhythmic "thump" of the engine between our knees, blasting out its' beloved song behind us.... is it our forgetfulness of work or personal issues.... is it the next bend in the road with a mystery of adventure lurking beyond.... what is it?

Whatever the reason, or answer, to this question, I don't know. But I like it. I'm not just doing this because if feels right, I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do. I've never had as much anticipation about a trip as the one I am about to acquaint myself with. Will it meet my expectations, I don't know. Will everything go as planned, probably not? I expect I will not ride into golden sunsets every evening, nor toast the perfect s'more every nightfall. But one thing is certain; I will accomplish what I thought was only a childhood dream until now. In some small way, I hope to find a type of connection between who I was at age seven and who I am now.

What will this motorcycle adventure amount to in the long run? I don't know. I may break down and never make it out of Michigan (my own personal depiction of Hell). It may turn out to be a significant cornerstone in my meager life. Whatever the outcome, I hope to at least enjoy myself, my country, and my freedoms. In the meantime, all I can do is anticipate...

P.S. While writing this short story I remembered to pack bug repellent for my trip!

Jeff Hall - Scooter - US-MI-Grand Rapids