After 2 weeks of replacing every bearing, sleeve, seal, and the rear brake calipers on the back end of the bike in my parents' North Carolina garage, Big Mama became once again roadworthy, and I got my dog back (not without a bit of a fight - puppies tend to be addicting after taking care of them for a while). The ride back up to NYC was uneventful - warm, with only a little rain in the last part of the trip.
I wasn't exactly sure how I'd feel coming back to the big mean city that I had left for so long. Much of the reason for my taking this trip is that I was getting fed up with the city lifestyle, and, especially during the winter, the way people act towards one another and towards their environment. My lack of work was another reason, and now I'm heading back to the same situation - lots of expenses and little income.
All this was in my head on the way up highway 81, and didn't leave until I was on the George Washington Bridge. Usually from the GW, you can see the skyline of the city, and even my apartment building if you look carefully. It was foggy and raining, so I couldn't see a thing, but regardless, I knew it was all there, and I became excited towards my homecoming for the first time. Even Django, wet, cold, and scared, started getting excited once we turned onto my block and he started recognizing the neighborhood. After such a long ride that followed being in a series of new places, he seemed to be even happier to be home than I was.
I've heard that New York has a way of swallowing up homecomings from amazing adventures, because most of the people have probably done something cooler yet. I didn't feel this way, though. Especially with drug wars and swine flu and central american politics all over the news, when people asked me where I've been and I tell them, the response is usually something along the line of "man, you've got some balls". I gladly follow that up by telling people that I didn't run into the slightest danger whatsoever, and everyone, including (perhaps especially) the shady types, was friendly and welcoming as can be. Usually the response to that is "I don't care, you've got balls".
My job here in this blog is to let everyone know that it doesn't take balls to do a trip like this - only an open mind, knowledge, a reliable motorcycle, plenty of time, much less money than most people think, and a notebook.
Okay, balls can help too.
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