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Corporate Runaways

Overland travelers and certified geeks, based in Vermont.


4-Minute Read

The last two adventures have been hard; each in its own way. We learn. We adjust. We try again.

Going to Colorado was a brutal slog. We firmly believe that having a deadline is the worst thing for an adventure. Being forced to just go go go without the time to stop and smell the roses… it sucks. Doing it in hundred degree weather with hot blowing winds sucks doubly so.

So, we adjusted. Nova Scotia was close enough that, despite the limited days off, we could still take our time. We stopped when we were tired. We took a day off because we felt like it. We went to see things just because we felt like it. And that part of the trip was great, but the feeling that we were being constantly rained on… that wasn’t so great.

When we found that my dog had been abused in our absence on the Americas trip we vowed that we’d never do that again. We adjusted. We bought the Ural, and the dogs came with us on these last two journeys. They loved it, and we learned that while it changed many things about how we traveled. It also made being on the road feel more like being home. The good home. The one where your heart is. They are our pack, and packs like being together.

We’ve thought a lot about the next adventure… about quitting everything and traveling around the world with no deadline. It’s what drives us, especially me. Essentially all of our disposable income goes into something trip related.

We look at our past and try to learn from it.

We learn. We adjust. We try again.

I suspect it started out with a snide comment of mine: a “You know, if we had a four wheeled vehicle…” kind of thing. It became a running joke, because we’re adventure motorcyclists. Ease: Ha! Comfort: Piffle! In Nova Scotia’s rains though, it started to become something more serious. If we had a four wheeled vehicle we wouldn’t be getting soaked right now… If we had a four wheeled vehicle we could stop there for breakfast without having to peel off our dripping wet gear, get warm and start to dry, then put it back on and get soaked all over again… If we had a four wheeled vehicle we wouldn’t have to set up a tent that was still soaked from the last night of rain…

And once we started thinking about one possibility we realized we could talk to each other while we traveled without straining to hear over the wind, without having to rely on technology that kept failing. We could take notes on the place we’d just been while the other one drove. When one person’s tired the other can take over. We could touch each other… or even give the driver a peck on the cheek. The dogs would have space enough to really stretch and move around as the miles went by.

We could wake up, see that it was pouring out, drenching everything around, and smile. Stand up, cook some breakfast, start up the engine hit the road, and stay perfectly dry…. except for the unavoidable dog walk sigh. Then, (and this was huge) we could stop for anything that caught our eye, because there’d be no hot or dripping suits to wander around in, or take off, then put back on…. the list just kept getting longer and longer.

There are downsides though. We’d loose many of our ties with the awesome motorcycling community that we’ve grown to love. And frankly, a couple traveling around the world in a four wheeled vehicle isn’t nearly as inspiring as doing it on motorcycles, and we want to inspire. I want to inspire. I want people to see our adventures and say “If they can do it, then so can I.” I want to see people getting out there and living their dreams.

But you know what? In the end this isn’t about them. This is about us. This is about finding the way that makes us happy, and there’s nothing more inspirational than seeing passionate people enjoying life.

And then, I suggested a Vanagon.

We learn. We adjust. We try again.

Anybody want to buy a Ural?

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A couple with 2 dogs and a thirst for exploring the places in-between.