The streets and highways of NY were an endless monotony of vehicles without faces, droning to a destination as fast as possible. The car in front was not Wayne the nurse from down the street with two kids or Nora who fought and beat down her leukemia or even someone who would wave back. I couldn't shake that feeling of a sheep following the herd and it happens everytime I head out of Alaska. It is the black void. At times welcome, but mostly a sinking feeling. Nothing like a good music jam to uplift the spirits and get the Nome feeling back, especially as the darkness and cold set in.
It's the turn of a new season here that starts the flow of potentially exciting outings. Lately it's been every few months where I actually wonder what is it that drives that drive? It has been building more, tougher to suppress and the daily activities don't quite fit the bill. That insatiable need to tweak myself ever so slightly further and further. Over the years opportunities came...those solo cold ocean kayak crossings in terrible conditions.... that ride outside Namibia to skydive... the edgy snow machine rides to Nome from Unalakleet alone at 30 below... So why not try the ultrasport again this year... oops did I really say that? Well, maybe just the 350.
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