Two months to go

I've been quiet for the past few weeks and actually thinking very little about Cannonball.  We are in the middle of buying a house and every step of the way has been ridiculously difficult.  We have our closing scheduled a week from today and literally do not know if the deal is still going to go through.  The moments of high drama, stress and worry have not only sucked the joy out of what should be a fairly happy event, but it's kept me from thinking about this whole cross-country thing that's coming up soon.

The Cannonball riders - all 62 of us - will set out from Savannah two months from today.  After obsessing over this for nearly two years it's hard to believe the time has just about come.  I think I'm supposed to be fretting over what's in my tool kit and making sure I've got the spare parts I need but instead I'm undergoing a financial colonoscopy from the mortgage company and wondering if we're going to have a place to move to or have to start over from square one.  With any luck this will all be over soon and my worry over buying the house will be displaced by worry over getting packed and moved in the month prior to Cannonball.  I know things are going to work out one way or another.


I want to give a shout-out to David Masse.  I was away over the weekend and when I got home I found a package from Canada waiting for me.  David decided to send me a couple of turtle lights for my scooter.  They are small LED lights that are super bright, have long battery life, and can be used in either steady or flashing mode.  He sent a white one and a red one.  I can hang or mount them fore and aft on my scooter to make myself more visible.  I don't think a driver could fail to spot me with these things on.  Thank you, David, for your thoughtful gift.  It's a great addition to my kit.

Home sweet home

Right here, right now, in the middle of all of my pre-Cannonball planning, my wife and I are buying a new house.  We went under contract this week after some nerve-wracking negotiations with a crusty old bastard who by all appearances didn't really care whether the house sold or not.  We got it done - well, at least the first part - and we set an aggressive timeline by insisting on a Feb. 29 closing - yes, that's now less than three weeks away.

In many ways there couldn't be a worse time for Cannonball to be happening.  I'm supposed to be saving money, not shoveling it out the door on things like spare tires and riding gear and plane tickets.  I'm supposed to be packing my belongings, not spreading them out and cataloging them and deciding what will fit on the scooter and what stays behind.  Conversely, I have moments of thinking, "hey, wait a minute, I'm supposed to be doing scooter maintenance and route planning, not scheduling home inspections and radon tests and filling out mortgage applications."

I'm glad that I have Cannonball to think about because it's a pleasant distraction.  And I hate that I have Cannonball to think about because I'm already stressed out and the upcoming ride adds to it at times.

I suspect I'll look back on this in the not-too-distant future and get a chuckle out of it.  Of all the problems in the world to have, being stressed over buying a new home and doing a scooter ride of a lifetime are not all that bad.

seeking support

I knew there was no way to do Cannonball on the cheap.  Even if you showed up at the starting line with just the clothes on your back you'd have a week and a half of hotels, meals, beer, gasoline, etc.  to pay for.  And I'm showing up with much more than that - a spare tire, belt and rollers, exhaust header and gaskets, tools, riding gear for all climates and on and on.  Oh, and I have to ship my bike back to Virginia when it's done and hop on a plane to get myself home.  I haven't dared to do more than a back-of-the-envelope calculation of what it's all going to cost but it's probably going to be at least $2,500.  Nope, not cheap.

But I knew this going in and decided that it was worth it.  It hadn't really crossed my mind to ask other people to help since this is a personal endeavor, but I've been watching some of my fellow riders ask for support and see lots of people happily stepping up to pitch in.  So here I am.


I've been working in professional fundraising for over 15 years.  I've asked people for 6-figure gifts.  You'd think I'd know how to do this but I'm discovering that it isn't as easy to do when you're asking for yourself rather than a cause.

I've set up a fundraising page at GoFundMe.com to make it easy.  Half of everything I get is going to charity so it's funding more than my crazy ride.  Cheers.

This is Cooper

, a photo by kyoty58 on Flickr.

I'm linking my various accounts and Cooper is my test photo from Flickr. That is all.

Getting connected

I'm an early riser, always have been.  I generally wake up on my own somewhere around 5:00.  I'm not one of those perky, jump-right-out-of-bed sorts but I also don't spend much time lolling around before I decide to get up.  My first thoughts of the day are generally things like, "Huh?" or "I don't want to work today" or "Where am I?", but yesterday when I woke up I realized I was already thinking in full sentences and probably had been for awhile.  And what I was thinking was, "What sorts of electrical connectors and how many of them should I pack for Cannonball?"

My minimalist approach to gearing up is beginning to give way to concern that I'm going to forget to bring some crucial little piece of something that I discover I need only when I've broken down on a Forest Service road in Arizona that's many, many miles from nowhere.  One reaction to that, I suppose, would be to think of and then pack all of those crucial bits of something, which is apparently what I was doing yesterday when I woke up.

Butt connectors?  Male and female spade connectors?  Good lord, what is happening to me?