Monday, April 11, 2005

Writing lessons

Up at 10:30, after about 12 hours of rest. Again, I felt wasted. Washed the car. The sun felt good, even rejuvenating. During the car wash, to add insult to injury (or injury to insult), I threw my back out slightly. Haven’t done that in quite a while.

Tonight, I had reached sleep saturation. Lay awake, unable to sleep. The night was still, and outside I could hear animals creep about, claws sliding down the rough bark of a tree trunk, a strange cry moving through the woods. I reflected on “Adventure Camp” and how I was challenged at every step. How surprised I was with man and machine. As Whitman wrote, we “level that lift to pass and continue beyond.”

Turned the light on at 2:00 a.m. and took up 8 Around once again. “This is a terrible book,” I tell myself, but it shows what not to become on the road.

Chris Scott, in the Adventure Motorcycling Handbook, describes Helge Pedersen’s chronicle Ten Years on Two Wheels. “There’s none of the ‘next day I got up and…’ here.”

That, of course is the precise manner in which I write, a kind of logbook of day’s events. I like lists. I don’t know if I can avoid what is by now “second nature”.

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