As grey traces of dawn tinge the eastern sky...

I can't write this blog without acknowledging the huge influence Neil Peart, the main lyricist and drummer for the band Rush as well as a long-distance rider and travel writer, has had on both my life and this particular endeavor.

I've been what you call a nerd my entire life. From a very young age, when I took apart the family swingset at the tender age of three, my parents knew something was up. Once I got into 3rd grade, they had me tested for entrance to a somewhat experimental school program for 'smart kids'. I changed schools, which caused me to be bussed clear across town... But was now in a school that played to my strengths.

As such, I didn't get bullied as much as I would have if I'd been in a traditional school, but being a shy, sensitive, smart kid with a huge imagination made me a huge target, and I experienced my share regardless. Around this time, I discovered the band Rush from my older sister. I was the kid out on the playground with the portable tape player blasting out 'Tom Sawyer' and 'Cygnus X-1'. The music spoke to me. It was filled with quirky, yet amazing lyrics and epic stories. Lyrics written by someone, as I would come to know through his writing, was an awful lot like me, in many respects. A shy, terribly intelligent and imaginative man who shied away from fame, preferring to spend his time in the company of a few close friends or family, when he could.

I mentioned his book, 'Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road' in the first post on this blog, as one of the main reasons I ended up deciding my goal would be riding long distances. He authored several books on the subject, and they're in my reading list now even more than they were before. When I first got bit by the motorcycle bug, I could only envision riding within a hundred miles from my house... But Neil showed how it could be done, long-term and long-distance, without living like you're homeless... And even being able to enjoy it. It dovetailed perfectly with the other things I enjoy---like exceedingly long drives to empty southwestern deserts. It all made sense.

Neil died earlier this week, having been retired since 2015 and apparently diagnosed with Glioblastoma mid 2016. Some people have their Elvis, their JFK... Heroes and idols who helped shape them into the person they are. I had Neil Peart, and he was one of the big shapers of both my formative years AND the last few. He will be dearly missed, but never forgotten... But at least I have his legacy of music and travel stories. He'll be in my thoughts that spring morning as I head out on the 'Great Adventure'. Maybe he'll even ride alongside me for a while, who knows. The universe is a mysterious place.

Godspeed, Bubba.