Heaven is a Motel 6

About two weeks into the gRAAM road trip, the weather took a serious turn for the worse. The temperatures dropped 40 degrees overnight. We went from 100F one day to 49F the next. Not only did the temperatures drop, we were also treated to freezing cold rain and hail. I was most grateful I wasn’t on a bike those couple days.

I’ve been sleeping in the truck so far. There are three beds in the travel trailer, but we weren’t sure the middle one – the one that dropped down from the table – was long enough for us. I’m the shortest on the trip at 5’9”. I told the guys that I would just sleep in the back of the truck and it would be fine. All I needed was a bit of a mattress and I’d be good to go. I figured the back of the truck would be much better than having to build up/break down a tent every day.

For the first leg of the trip, from San Diego, CA to Phoenix, AZ, Sam Doolittle joined us. It was discovered that the dining table bed was long enough to sleep at. Gordo is six feet tall and Sam a little taller. Gordo was quite comfortable there. Still though, I decided that I would stay in the truck even after our guest road trippers were gone. The air was better outside the trailer anyway. ;-)

The problem with sleeping in the back of a truck when the weather nosedives, is that there is no insulation of any kind. My bedroom is basically a 6x8 fiberglass box. I woke up in the morning freezing cold and wet. The insides of the box were dripping with condensation, my pillow was wet, my clothes were wet and cold, and there was a puddle in the corner of the box where the canopy door doesn’t line up properly.

Three nights of sleeping in a cold, wet, fiberglass box and I woke up with a heavy feeling in my chest. That kind of heavy feeling that goes down deep when you breathe. The one that says, “If you’re not careful you’re in for a serious respiratory infection”. I’ve had pneumonia once before and I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. I was not going to go there again for anything or anyone. So, I promptly told Gordo I would be sleeping in the trailer that night. He listened to my story then said, “Why don’t you go down the road and get a motel room for the night.” I thought that was a little excessive at first, but when he pointed out a dry, warm room, real bed, real bathroom... I didn’t give it another thought. Motel 6, here I come.

It was truly heavenly. I walked in to a toasty warm room with a queen sized bed, TV, table and chairs, and full bathroom. Oh, what a treat! I felt like I kid. No, better than that, I felt like I was at the Waldorf in Manhattan. The first thing I did was take a long hot shower. Then I propped myself up on the bed with a bowl of grapes and the remote control. I watched TV for the first time in ages. Training Day with Denzel Washington and Ewan McGregor was on. Not my first choice, but hey, King Kong ain’t got nothing on Denzel.

And I slept so well...

A week and a half later, I got my own Motel 6 room again. How to please a girl in one easy step – tell her she gets to stay at a motel for the night. ;-)

16 April 2004

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I Think I Know

I think I know where I want to be.

When I set out on my little walkabout back in December of 2002, my reasons were that I needed a big change in my life, I wasn’t where I wanted to be and didn’t know where that was, and, simply, I was bored.

So I set out on the open highway. I met so many wonderful people and made more lifelong friends. I have seen so many new places -- many of which I may have never visited if not for my openness and willingness took take every new turn in the road. I went where the winds took me. Of all the places I’ve been to, thus far, only two struck a deep chord with me. Don’t get me wrong, everywhere I’ve been has been an adventure and so many places I’d love to go back and spend more time in. However, they weren’t places that struck me as, “I could live here”. That’s how two places in particular struck me. Something about them felt right to me. Every day I woke with a smile on my face for no other reason than, simply, I was there.

Christchurch, New Zealand was one of those places. It had such an incredible vibe to it – an ancient, silent power that energized me and made every single day a joy just to be a part of. However, I would never be able to handle a winter in New Zealand. Too bloody cold and they don’t have central heating. I have a bit of an aversion to being cold. ;-) Aside from that, I had begun to feel that I was too far and too long gone from the people in my life that I cared the most about.

Boulder, Colorado was the other one of those places. My first day in Boulder I knew I liked it. Within a few days of my arrival there, I knew it was a somewhere I could live. Like Christchurch, it had a great vibe and everywhere I turned there were cyclists and runners and active healthy people. The training opportunities were endless and top quality. The triathlon community was large and thriving. Every time I rode or ran, I came back totally invigorated -- and I loved it. I felt good there -- comfortable. Funny thing is, for years, I had always wanted to go to Colorado. As a bonus, the altitude agreed with me.

I had a great summer in Boulder -- with a perfect ending. I didn’t want the summer to end. I wanted that last night under a full moon and star-splattered sky to never end. But, I had plans already in motion and a plane ticket back to New Zealand for the Northern Hemisphere winter months.

Eight months later, I awoke beside a warm slumbering body to a crisp early spring morning in the Colorado Mountains high above Boulder. Through the open bedroom window I listened quietly as a soft breeze tickled the leaves of the tall pine trees outside. From where I lay, I watched as the trees that surrounded the cozy house gently swayed a lazy dance rhythm as their sun-kissed leaves sparkled shades of green and gold. A deep blue sky sat silently behind like a chaperone, promising a warm day full with energy, adventure and all things good. I felt a peacefulness I haven’t felt for a long time. Could there be any better way to wake in the morning? I couldn’t think of a single thing.

Right then, right there, I knew. I knew I was where I wanted to be. A smile spread across my face as I thought to myself, “this is where I want to be”. There was no fear in that thought. No doubt in my heart’s mind. That was it. That was the most perfect, most certain, moment of this whole journey. That’s what I’ve been out here looking for. That perfect moment of doubtless knowing. An epiphany perhaps. It’s been a long time since I’ve had an epiphany – six years ago, in fact -- and that one kicked off this whole journey in a round about sort of way-- Epiphany or not, that feeling of “knowing” is an amazing sensation. There’s a kind of freedom in knowing, without a doubt, exactly what you want.

It has been seven hours now since I’ve left Boulder for the second time. I’m back on the road and my walkabout continues... for now. I have a strong gut feeling, however, that my walkabout is nearing an end. Although I don’t think it will truly ever end, not fully. It has become such a part of me... Well, it has always been a big part of what makes up who I am. I have always needed change, adventure and the unknown to keep me alive and I always will. There’s nothing more exciting than picking a direction, the road ahead completely unknown and completely wide open, and seeing where it takes you. However, more and more, I’m realizing there is something more, something deeper, that I want out of this life. Maybe I’m just getting older... Nah! I don’t believe in getting old. I’m just learning who I am and what really makes my heart sing.

Though I won’t entirely stop walking about -- just no more indefinite walkabouts -- it would be nice to have a real address again. More than that, it would be truly sweet to have a place to call home... and put my suitcase back in the closet.

21 April 2004

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