Day 0: Preparation
I'm a person who desperately wants my life to be interesting, even if that means my life will be stressful. – Journal entry dated January 4, 2017
Of course, I wrote this because I might have been trying to talk myself out of becoming a “homeless” traveler.
I assure you, my crazy ideas are not without serious thought.
I'll spend this week living without electricity (other than that which I need for work). When the sun goes down, the lights stay off. I'm hoping it will improve my sleep, as I keep reading about all the bad stuff “blue light” can do to natural sleep rhythms. We'll see.
First thing's first: outfitting the bike with storage, proper lights, and trying to learn as much as I can about repairing stuff myself. It was a cute thought...I knew I probably wouldn't learn how to fix jack.
Nevertheless, I track down everything I have and might possibly need: tools, a spare tire, and good, lightweight rain gear, as it's still very cold in Northern Florida (according to me, anyway, others may disagree).
I order a “pop-up” tent. A kids play tent. It's a black camo color and has plenty of space for me and my crap.
Since I have no patience for setting up tents, I figure the obnoxious size of this thing – a two-foot diameter disc when folded up – will be worth the time and frustration it will save me. All I have to do is take it out of the cover, unsnap the retaining strap, and toss it out onto the ground. Whoooppp! It springs violently out and up, into a fully formed shelter. Breaking it down takes less than 10 seconds, too. I'll figure out where to put it on the bike later.
I get every article of clothing I can think of in pure wool. I know wool provides the best warmth for the weight, but even better, it stays warm when wet. Wool underlayers. Wool socks. Wool balaclava. I got a huge laugh for that one from a Northerner. Whatever. What is my face gets cold? Guess I'll learn shortly.
I'm not too worried about power or batteries. I'll just have to keep my phone sufficiently charged to make emergency calls, should I need to. GPS will be unnecessary – just get on the bike and ride south. When I can't go any further south, it means I'm there. Simple enough.
Two large water bladders. Camera (maybe I could get some cool shots?). Camping lights. I dunno...what else?
I'll find out when I get on the road, I guess.
I'm not worried about food at all since the east coast of Florida is one big, concrete strip mall. To carry food at all would be a giant waste of space.
There's no way I'm buying anything special, like panniers. I'll throw everything in my large “backpacking” backpack, and that will go in the basket behind the seat, strapped down with an old, barely functional bungee net. I decide not to put a penny into bike equipment until I'm halfway to Key West. That way, if I realize this is a bad decision, I'm not any poorer for it.
What am I looking forward to the most? A month of being alone with my thoughts.
I think of all my past road trips. Just me and the road. Behind the wheel on a long highway. I zone out and think about stuff for hours. Creative ideas come fast and furious. Sometimes I think of all the people I've hurt. I apologize in my mind and hope somehow the apologies travel through space and make it to their recipients. It's a cleansing, relaxing experience. Almost like a mental reboot.
This will be just like that, right?
Knowing what I know now, this naïveté is endearing. This trip would be a reboot, alright. But not in the way I imagined.