I say that “adventure” is anything we undertake which includes a degree of risk for unhappy consequences. My curiosity has gotten me into many such situations, but the one I’m writing about now is driven by my genetics. Believe me, as prone as I am to head into the wilds on a motorcycle, the journey I’ve just begun—and will be on for the rest of my life—is not one I would have chosen.

Continue reading “Keeping Promises”

Anyone who has listened to me talk about Montana has undoubtedly heard the story of my falling-in-love-at-first-sight moment atop Thompson Pass. I rounded a curve at the summit, crossing from Idaho into Montana, and there lay a vista that took my breath. As far as I could see, miles and miles of mountains and trees. I was filled with a sense of openness and freedom unlike anything I’d known and I descended into Montana feeling like I’d found a new life.

Continue reading “That’s My Story….”

When I began riding a motorcycle at age 63, my friends asked, “Are you totally nuts?!” and complete strangers I met while on my bike eyed my graying hair, shook their heads when I said I’d just begun riding, and told me crash stories. But when I subsequently purchased a dirt bike at age 65, my friends just rolled their eyes. Most have gotten used to the idea that I love something they wouldn’t dream of doing. And some even think that’s pretty cool.

Continue reading “The Price of Joy”

When Martin Luther King proclaimed unforgettably, “I have a dream,” that August day in 1963, I was barely thirteen. I didn’t actually hear him say it that day. But even just hearing about it made my skin tingle…and still does. Dreams were clearly how really important things began and I very much wanted to do something important someday. But I didn’t have a dream. I had never had one. And suddenly I knew I lacked something vital.

Continue reading “I (Finally) Have a Dream!”