Hard — Home is Where My Cat is

The Facebook/Instagram/Youtube generation has definitely done something clear to our thought processes: The exposure to experiences and lifestyles less common were usually reserved for celebrities and wacky reality TV shows; carefully curating some idyllic presentation or exaggerated struggle. Today, anyone with some money and a dreams can make money by selling you their dreams.

Do I sound cynical? Yeah, I probably do.

Rarely does anyone go out of their way to explore the realities of what they’re doing. Troubles are the footnote of an over-HDR-edited photo posted on Instagram, the almost sarcastic #sponsored hashtag hanging just underneath.

Here is the reality of what we’re doing.

THIS IS HARD.

Let me be clear in saying that it isn’t that I want sympathy, we chose this lifestyle and the hardships that come with it. But it’s hard to want to be honest about the negatives when someone is sponsoring you. I get it. Everything about what we’ve done so far has been pretty difficult. Lifestyle changes, forcing 3 cats to commit to our little sardine can, and constant issues stemming from the age and rebuild of our beloved Sunbadges. We haven’t had running water for almost 2 and a half weeks (I think we’ve got this solved finally, but I thought we had it solved last time and one of our pipes actually exploded). Our solar generator failed and stopped accepting solar power and is no longer acting as an inverter, forcing us to buy new replacement equipment as we slowly diagnose the issues, possibly ending in the loss of our shore power capabilities to restore a full-solar power system. Radio Shack doesn’t exist anymore, not the way it used to. The paths we stay on are rarely paved so I’ve laid my motorcycle down, nearly going over the handle bars. I am constantly dirty. Sometimes muddy. And being allergic to most forms of insect bites, I’m still covered from the neck down in mosquito bites. At least I hope they’re mosquito bites. shudder

And you know what? Driving a 20,000 pound vehicle is tiring. I can’t believe that there are people that do this professionally day in and day out. And I don’t know what the deal is with passenger cars but I swear you people are on a suicide mission.

Still, it’s only been a couple of weeks and the views and experiences have been incredible. Nothing short of incredible. Sometimes breathtaking. Immediately, my appreciation for this country is always on the tip of my tongue. South Dakota always got that bad rap coming from Minnesotans who easily dismissed the mantle of nothingness presented at the forefront of their civilization: Sioux Falls. And undeserved bad rap, mind you. The people were so pleasant that my sweet tooth panged in response. Western South Dakota is immense and gorgeous. I was stunned by regret that I’d never gone further than Sioux Falls with all of that beautiful countryside available to me.

We found Mount Rushmore. We threaded the Needles Highway. We saw a bison so close up on the side of the road that I’m pretty sure I know his name. Charles, I think. He prefers Sir Charles. Don’t call him Chuck, he does a tongue thing. Custer State Park was so beautiful that we visited twice. I can’t bring myself to remove the tag the park officials placed on my bike to prove that I paid. We attended Sturgis. We slept a week cliffside of the Badlands, the Milky Way almost visible over light pollution at the darkest of night.

Life on the road is hard but we rediscovered the reason we’re were doing this in the first place and the reason we’re going to continue. In internet tradition, here are some photos, this time sans overblown HDR.

-Sisko Out