A low-tech ecological bike tour of the world, by Charles Brigham
Ah, my soul sighs – back on the road. I left Richmond on a chilly November day, after a few weeks of downtime, ready to hit the docks in Norfolk to find a freighter or sailboat that I can hitch a ride with. I was so ready to be back on the road (more…)
man on a journey
two wheels bear his spirit East
every day new
–Noah Cox, my homie in Portland.
I love Wisconsin; watershed or driftless, whitewashed or budding green; its landscapes have always felt like home. Its people – neighbors all, be they progressive and liberally raised, or traditionally bred in the red neck of the woods. Prime bicycling country. I’ve always lived in Wisconsin, and I’ve always really lived in Wisconsin. I hope to live there again some day.
But right now, I live on the road, in the woods wherever I’m found. And the states I live in – they sure aren’t Wisconsin. Not bad, just different. I’m actually glad to leave for a while; they say it’s good to see what other states have to offer. Get a new perspective.
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The world tour has begun.
No time for fear. Honesty and reality, mixed with a whittling down of that less exciting chaff that surrounds the diverse gems of travelling, be they shiny or subtle. My life is strange on the road, and though even my “every-day” experiences are unusual by former standards, I cannot write about them all. I’ve pared it down, for your sakes and mine, but still retain a record of other items of interest, to be documented as they amass. (more…)
Somewhere in the last year, sometime amidst the craziness that is my regular life, my subconscious slid across a nebulous threshold, and on my behalf it decided: I would travel soon. It began as little pecks on the inside of my skull; hints of this wisp, this not-put-in-words-yet, this leap. The idea scratched to get out in the dark moments: when I was struck with loneliness, when I experienced loss, or when I examined the skeletal shadows of my life.