Willie Nelson's song 'On The Road Again' has been streaming through my head on repeat for the past week and-a-half, except that now I don't have to sing the "and I can't wait to get on the road again" lines because we're already there.
It has been a long month of healing since we originally got a taste of this sport and I almost forgot how much I loved it. It only took about a quarter of a mile and the realization that I wasn't on an out-and-back ride like I had been doing daily in Sun Valley for me to remember how great this life was. A little time (in the grand scheme of things anyway) and a lot of patience has paid off. We have returned to the life of being dirty and stinky, covered in days upon days of sweat, dirt, sunscreen and campfire smoke. The lakes and rivers we come across double as our bath tubs and washing machines. Our gourmet meals are all one-pot concoctions, typically rolled up in a tortilla. Our beds are thin camping pads and drafty sleeping bags placed anywhere alongside the road we can find a flat, shady spot to put up our tent after a long, hot day of riding. We are once again battling the elements - currently heat and ruthless mosquitoes. We are lulled to sleep by the gurgling river flowing less than 10 feet away from us, the wind blowing through the trees and the insects singing their night time songs. Life couldn't be better!
"On the road again...
Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway.
We're the best of friends,
Insisting that the world keeps turning our way.
And our way...is on the road again!"