'Round the World with an Italian Supermodel

I'm definitely not one who plays it safe, so I probably make a bad spokesperson for this kind of advice, but I have stayed alive through a lot of ..... And as casually disrespectful I can be towards certain danger, I know when to pay attention. There's always a balance between living life to the fullest and living life to the point where you're not going to live much longer. Without a doubt that, without a motorcycle, I'd be dead. I'd be diving off cliffs or swimming in ocean storms or robbing drug dealers in the hood. But instead of 'present-tense imperfective' all of that would be written in past-tense perfective (by a third person, maybe). A great many people who ride motorcycles, I have no doubt, feel the same way. We gravitate to motorcycles because the world is dull at best, meaning is elusive. Frequently both. It's not adrenaline, it's not risk. It's meaning. Meaning meaning meaning meaning. And there's no better source for meaning than conflict. Often conflict means us. I can't be happy with a wife, two kids and a sweet 401k. I wish I could. I do. Poverty and starvation make me feel more alive. Plain and simple. There's a hollowness to it all, to life. If you don't feel that peculiar vacancy, if you don't already know what I'm talking about, you'll never understand. Consider yourself fortunate. Seriously.

Why some of us feel like this is complicated. With me it was logic, as counter-intuitive as it sounds. And it happened at a very early age. I won't go into details because it's filled with the kind of ideas that can easily replicate. One thought leads to another and very rapidly, just like that, the foundation for everything evaporates. (Don't read about ____ ____. And definitely stay away from _______.) What is important is, what I've accomplished has been a result of trying to implant meaning. It's one of the things Asura and I talked about a lot over the past 13 years I knew him. In the end, in that very end a split second before that Volvo made a left turn, he was happy. He'd found a cure. He'd found meaning. Unfortunately it was not sustainable.

The message, the theme, the 'take-away' of everything I've written is: identify and capture things in life that make it worthwhile. Whether you're born happy and filled with glee or born remorseful and sullen. We have a freedom to create meaning that's independent of how much is really there. Figure it out. Happiness is not static.

There's an intoxifiying feeling that come from all that glitters on the surface of the world, from all that shimmers, from speed, from the sublime, from danger, from consequence, from anything that generates awe through risk. And there's a humbling sensation, too, that comes from being in the presence of something as solid and banal as a boulder, a giant rock on a cliff on the shore of a beach that witnessed the invasion of Normandy. But the same sense of awe can be felt in the presence of a moonlit boulder in the middle of the desert that's as old as the time of fish moving from sea to land. I can't reconcile the power of the two together. The insatiable need to experience the history of the world is a reflection of a desire to live forever; but the passion to feel alive now requires living moment to moment.

i feel that benign indifference and the emptiness most of the time...the hollowness and the ineluctable amorphousness.... it even overlapped the whole motorcycling experience for me, esp when acknowledging the vehicular idiocy all around and the (man-made) roads being traversed.... i def commiserate while also appreciating the kind of mc mouse maze wheelhouse that u r on.... a few clicks out for an aerial view can b as horrifying as it is insightful... and sharp focus insight is itz own horror-show...


thx for the posts & get ur ass back home already..

Very sorry to hear about your friend Dennis. Good to hear your still doing what makes you happy.

How's the bike holding up?... Any major issues, how many miles do you have on it?

You still in Europe or back in LA?

Your story hits a spot with me. Your insight and perspective into things that aren't typically what we externally project intrigues me to no end.

I know that your journey will continue forever, but I only can hope that you'll still share it with all of us.

I'm not quite used to, and always inevitably surprised by, positive reactions to the sometimes experimental, sometimes intimate, invariably private thoughts I've learned over a lifetime are best not shared with anyone. I've learned a great deal traveling the world, but I've learned even more about myself and the people in it by reading the messages and reactions to what I've committed to paper. For that I have to thank you all. Otherwise I'd just be a violin in a vacuum.

On a more pragmatic note: Bike is fine. I am doing well. Won't say where I am other than the fact that my body is in a different place than my ride report. Hoping to fully catch up in the next couple weeks. In the meantime:


I stopped on the side of the road pictured below to take a piss. Saw another guy come out of the woods, almost in complete silence, and he did not look happy. Seemed as though he either just buried someone he loved or someone he killed. Or maybe both. It wasn't just a passing expression. It was deep in his blood, permanently sculpted into the features of his face. The general attitude of most people I've encountered in Est/Latvia/Lithuania exhibit a different kind of attitude than I've ever seen elsewhere. Sort of a mixture of restraint, anger and despair. I'm not judging here, and I've got an admittedly very small sample of interactions with people--mostly from an observers standpoint. As polite and considerate as they are on the road, the Baltic states are home to people who may not be angry, or sad, but they do often look it. I'd wager that there's serious cultural value here in not just appearing serious, but being serious (damn ....... serious), and a very low opinion of those who display emotions, so that outward appearance isn't a good indicator of what is going on inside, but damn. Hardcore. Would love someone who knows more about the culture to give us a brief lesson.



Wasn't just the unibombers coming out of the woods who looked angry, either. I stopped at a gas station, went inside to pay and saw these:



Now, I'm no candy bar aficionado, but Cappuccino Twix bars sounds like a great marketing idea that hasn't yet been given the opportunity to fatten America up some more. Right after I took this shot I turned around and saw the cashier dude staring at me as if I just stabbed a baby. If there was one time in my life I'd wished I left my helmet cam on it was this moment. I'd never seen someone so furious at something so trivial.

Oh and a word of advice around here: there is no need to learn the language. I'd been looking forward to practicing my very outdated Russian with the locals, but entire conversations can be had with zero words here, so there's a plus. No awkward moments trying to remember how to say good morning or evening. Just enter, exit and transact silently. Pretty much worked everywhere. I have to admit, I kind of like their way of doing business. Plus, saying nothing is a good way to make sure restrained hostility remains restrained.

Speaking of....stopping here to take pictures led to a sinister KGB looking dude coming over at me to investigate. I didn't stick around.





I'm painting a very unsettling picture of daily life here, but in reality, it was quite relaxing and peaceful.....



...until some old man came charging at me from behind, sickle in hand. I darted to the side and he swung away, in complete silence, beheading each and every last dandelion. (I kid, I kid. No dandelions were harmed.)

Took one of those East/West side roads and found myself in this little town.



Definitely felt a little bit like I'd gone back in time. Empty streets. Old vehicles. Clean air.


I was beat. Not sure how many hours or miles I put in. But I was exhausted. At the end of a gas-station road, I found this hotel.


Or perhaps I should say I found this single car museum dedicated to the American Trans Am (or is it a Firebird?):



Hilarious. Went back to the gas station for dinner. Saw this guy celebrating a favored past-time. I guess it was still a little early for Lot Lizards to be out. Or perhaps they were with a customer--a customer with very good taste in window adornments.

Great to read your posts again, it's been awhile. Sorry to hear about your friend, I hope it was quick. In the long list of ways to check out that would be somewhere near the top. The un expected motorist is truly the bane of street riders the world over.

This is what being fully geared up looks like.



Seems like I travel light, and I do, but it still takes a lot of gear that's gotta get carried somehow.

Headed south to Poland.





I think this is where I was.



Long way from California. Happily so.

Now that's getting some good use out of a bike.

I always wondered how much of an influence you have had on Ducati sales by yourself because of both your around the states and around the world trip. I know that's not why you're doing all this but still, would be awesome to know.

Next....Ducati should take your bike back and give you a new R in exchange as a thanks for your journey on one of our bikes.

When are you comin back home?

double0 said:

Now that's getting some good use out of a bike.

I always wondered how much of an influence you have had on Ducati sales by yourself because of both your around the states and around the world trip. I know that's not why you're doing all this but still, would be awesome to know.

Next....Ducati should take your bike back and give you a new R in exchange as a thanks for your journey on one of our bikes.

When are you comin back home?

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It'd be interesting to know for sure. Was never my point to sell a bunch of bikes. I'd much rather sell people on other ideas that make their lives better. But owning a Ducati is perhaps the easiest way to make ones life better, so there ya have it!

Ducati, though, has been awesome and my interactions with 'em (and their willingness to welcome me into their fold) prove that the company is made up of individuals who live, eat, sleep, breathe and bleed passion for motorcycles.

I got pretty lost a few times in Poland. Not that I cared too much. Sometimes getting lost turns a 6 hour trip into a 11 hour trip, and sometimes getting lost turns a 6 hour trip into a 6 hour trip where you just didn't get very far.



Poland was pretty cool. Lots of countries in Europe have sections that feel like the 60s or 50s....and by that I mean they feel like they could be 19, 18, 17 or older. Sometimes it's all anachronistic. That is, a 13th century cathedral surrounded by a flood of tourists with iPads out taking selfies or eating Pizza Hut on the steps while UberX drivers drop new waves off. And sometimes, you're back in time, alone, wandering with no reminders of the modern age.

Poland had its 'modern' sites (KFC, McDonald's, etc.), but overall they seemed to have preserve much of the cold-war feel without it being depressing. A quick filter on this pic of an incoming train makes the scene feel like it could be 1962. Or even older. But it's all perfectly preserved today, making it all feel like a living museum.





In much need of a squeegee:



Not sure what exactly that in the background was. Some sort of power routing station? Maybe Dr. Frankenstein lived here just before his death?



I was here to visit Auschwitz. Sometimes reality is symbolic with a stretch of the imagination. And sometimes it doesn't take much of an imagination to find the symbolism:



The real question is: were these SS guards protecting my bike or were they there to see it didn't escape?

Auschwitz on the outside looks a lot like any other touristy-destination. Lots of busses and tour guides. Parking attendants collecting money. The biggest difference is all the crying and ghostly-faces of those exiting. Not everyone--there were quite a few very cheerful, happy, and thoughtful looks. I couldn't help but cynically think the most disturbed were those who were having difficulty reconciling the lovely, perfect world of human kindness and compassion they know with a much darker version that's even more pervasive and real. Still, after all these years, people are being surprised by the depths of human evil.

Other than the Euro or two that you have to pay to check in bags, Auschwitz is free. As it should be. Not that I don't think it's by any means cheap to keep it operational for tourists, but because there seems something inherently wrong with charging. Keeping a historical site operational is one thing, but entrance fees would make it appear someone is actually profiting from genocide. Bad bad bad. So I got in line and...wait...if you want to get in you have to pay for a guided tour. Yes....the site itself is free, but you have to pay for the 'guide'. I didn't want a guide. I didn't want to be near other people, but could tolerate 'em provided I could move freely about. NOPE. There was a slot between 3-4pm that I could get in without a guide (for free), but it was like ....... noon.

So I wandered the perimeter unable to get in to the one place on earth so many had wished they could escape from.








Hard to believe that Auschwitz could operate without the locals really knowing what's going on. But who'd guess terrible atrocities were being committed here:



How's it go? We do not err because truth is difficult to see. It is visible at a glance. We err because this is more comfortable.

Thanks, these same types of "camps" are all over America, they're called FEMA camps.

centeroff said:

Thanks, these same types of "camps" are all over America, they're called FEMA camps.

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You must either have no understanding of the events that took place at these concentration camps or have your tinfoil hat on too tightly.

After Poland, I headed off to CZ Republic (again). I took a mix of backroads and highways. I had nowhere to be, nowhere to go, I was just heading towards Italy. I ended up in the Moravian-Silesian Region by Bravinne. There were a ton of motorcyclists, too--of the knee-puck wearing kind. I'm not one to treat roads like racetracks, but I'll confess I may have scraped some plastic on the ground here and there. Roads were smooth and empty....and, well, remember what I said about taking your cue from locals regarding appropriate riding behavior? >) Had a blast, but took a detour.















Not really what I ever thought the Czech Republic would look like, but that's just one more reason to go places and see ...., no?

JDBeretta said:

You must either have no understanding of the events that took place at these concentration camps or have your tinfoil hat on too tightly.

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Just saw this, been busy, I guess you are one of those who thinks history can't repeat itself if it's too horrifying. Down here in the USA we have all the same machinations going on in government, that preceded NAZI total control of Germany, up too and including brown shirts, ss, hitler youth, and holding centers, they just go by different names. The maternal side of my family lived through that whole take over process.

Just looking at those pics of Auschwitz kinda freaks me out. I cant/dont want to imagine the feeling of being there in person.

Great Pics as always

CZ Republic is definitely one of my favorite countries in Europe. It's got all the history of the rest of the continent (and maybe then some), but it's seemingly undiscovered. As a result, it can be quite desolate. Both in the country and in the cities. Oh yeah, and the restaurants: EMPTY! Nice finish to a long day alone on the road.



I figured it was time to eat something that didn't come out of a can. Good choice, I must say.





I felt like an Austrian: NOTHING LEFT!


Wandered the streets of Brno a bit before returning to my hotel.



One of life's greatest pleasure: solitude in a strange city.



And maybe another of life's greatest pleasures. Nice to know there's a few things in life still left to try, in time....perhaps.



Great to see my bike still where I left it, too!

Great shots, so seemingly peaceful and orderly. What was that appetizer you were having?