Guy Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages

Adventures in Sport Touring with the Honda ST 1100, 1300 and the BMW 1200RT

Exploring North America...One Road at a Time

The Passion of it
March, 2006

I came to understand my need for solitude a little more than 20 years ago.  My life was much more complicated then.  I was raising a son, studying to further my career, and shuffling bills so the paycheck could go the distance.

Long riding was out of the question in the early 80s, but I discovered long distance running.  The sport stroked my need to have time to myself, and the energy I spent on the road training for marathons gave me a good dose of solitude each week.

When I began this life chapter 5 years ago, I never spent more than a day myself.  Now I spend weeks at a time riding the country.

The motorcycles I enjoy-they are fun, and exhilarating- but its the solitude and freedom I treasure when I'm on the road.  I am not anti-social, I have never been more connected to the human race- I have friends all over the country and the UK, but an occasional retreat from daily life, putting the road between myself and the rest of the world, feels like a gulp of air after holding my breath.

When I saddled up in 2001 for my first cross country ride, I did not really know what to expect. Would I get halfway to California then turn around and speed back to loved ones?  I was prepared for loneliness.  I'd felt a growing apprehension for weeks prior to my departure date.  I was prepared for clouds of desolation to overcome me, and leave me fighting the urge to turn the ST around and head for home.

But as Alabama faded in the mirrors, and the days ticked off riding through the Great Plains and into the mountains, a sense of completeness over came me.  Navigating through the country, relying solely on myself made me feel enormously capable and self contained.  As the days and miles went by, I found I wasn't lonely. My home slipped behind me and I was amazed to find I was thrilled and happy.

I'd set out in June, the days were warm and the nights cool.  I stopped when and where I wanted.  I ate hamburgers at cafes in forgotten towns, I used old fashion maps to plot my course, like sailors with a sextant and compass from long ago.  The road became my mistress, and I was hooked.  I leaned twisty mountain highways, and zapped the lonely run outs of the desert.  In between all the riding I was dreaming, reading, and thinking, and watching the sky and the world go by.

What I experienced on that tour, was a form of vision quest-the ancient rite to go off into the wilderness in search of clarity.  In the United States we associate the ritual most commonly with Native Americans, but the procedure is found in many ancient tribal teachings.  It was customary for a American Indian to retreat from daily life to cleanse and purify the soul for what lies ahead.  To bring into focus what a man needs to do, to renew his spirit for what direction his life should take.

And without searching or asking for it, I received a message out there.  During my weeks on the road, I don't remember thinking deeply at who I was, or what few problems I had-but a clearer, more disappointing portrait of myself emerged.  Already in my mid 40s I felt like I had failed to do many of things I really wanted.  Looking back now, that trip marked the beginning of a new resolve.  I returned from that tour and began reaping the seeds I planted so long ago-to live life unencumbered, and free.  That tour in 2001 told me Long Riding is what I needed to do at this time in my life.  

A few years later I retired and pretty much dropped out of society, and live life by MY own rules.  I'm going to tell you what I think, because you can't fire me, and I don't owe you a quarter, and if I find myself in a bad place I ride out the next day.

For many, life has piled up all around them.  Like some kind of fortification.  A hundred times more complicated when you were just a boy and wanted to ride your bicycle.  You may have young children at home, and it is impossible to throw your duffle bag across your seat on a whim and take off.  If you find yourself in that life chapter, grab your solitude when you can and make the most of it.  It doesn't take much-not a 3 week cross country ride, but what about a day or two just wandering around?  Perhaps you can escape just for a few hours?  You don't have to go around announcing you are on a vision quest, you just do what you can till your time comes.

Some find their solace on the water, hiking, or in some other endeavor, and when they return almost all have idea of who they are and what they should be doing.