Getting some traction with a motorcycle and enjoying the sunrise

23/4 - Finally. Some traction.

24/5 - I wrote the two sentences above more than a month ago.

Since those two sentences came into being, I have not had the desire to write; the fire just isn't there.

It's smoldering, as if a bucket of water were thrown over a campfire.

There have been reasons to write, sure.

• I have a part time job now that I don't hate.
• I found myself in the newsroom of the Sacramento Bee, in a one-on-one meeting with a frizzy-haired and foul-mouthed editor of the newspaper. The collar of his shirt wasn't buttoned, and neither was mine (though the rest of my suit was flawless). 
• I had a job interview at a local credit union, and I showed up 15 minutes early prepared with two copies of my resume, dressed in a suit and shook the manager's hand firmly.
• I skipped rocks in the American River with good friends. 
• I completed a road trip to San Luis Obispo to visit a former coworker and be the designated driver. 

But, I don't want to write. 

No more for tonight, at least.

16/7 - To celebrate being rejected for yet another job, I rented a motorcycle for 24 hours this past weekend in Sacramento and headed into the mountains with a fellow motorcycling friend.

The last time I rented a bike, of course, was during those five glorious days in England back in 2015. This time, I saddled up a 2014 Honda VFR800 sport touring machine. It was similar to the Suzuki SV650S I rode in England, but this bike had more power. It also came with two saddle bags, in which I stored my sleeping bag, water and a pair of shoes. It cost approximately $200 to rent the Honda for 24 hours, and that includes the insurance and rental of other equipment such as Snell-approved helmet and gloves.

The Honda VFR800 is the white bike. We parked our bikes off the road and behind a tree for the night. No one bothered the bikes or us.

Riding a motorcycle is an intense activity, one that requires constant concentration. It's mentally and physically taxing because there are so many factors that need your attention. All four of your limbs have to operate a different lever (shifting, front brake, back brake and throttle), you have to pay attention to imperfections in the road, and you have to ride defensively. After a time, though, you become more connected to the machine and every action takes less thought. Riding plants a permanent grin on my face and sometimes forces me to giggle and whoop inside my helmet which no one else but me can hear or experience.

Being in the saddle of these machines is the greatest high I can think of, one that is healthy for the soul. During my trip to Glasgow, Scotland a few years ago in a car with several other people and a dog, we found a quote on a shop window that was easy to miss, but it applies to this adventure:

"Four wheels move the body. Two wheels move the soul."

For 24 hours this weekend, the two wheels of the Honda moved my soul. If only for a short time, my issues and troubles melted away, ditched in the valley where they had no chance to follow (or keep up).

There was no destination in mind for this adventure. My buddy and I met on Madison Avenue in Sacramento, so we headed east on I-80 into Auburn and turned down Highway 49. We went through Cool and turned onto Highway 193 and rolled into Georgetown, where there was a large group of old, grizzled bikers with wild, gray beards outside of a bar, dressed all in black.

We turned onto Wentworth Springs Road and left most of the traffic behind, though we were still blessed with smooth, curvy roads. After a period of impressive views through patches of burned-out forest, we then turned onto Ice House Rode and eventually found our place for the night: Loon Lake. We parked our bikes on a turnoff right after the dam and found a spot on top of a rocky outcrop directly above the road on which to lay our sleeping bags.

We set up camp after all light had faded the night before. Tentless camping was a positive experience.

There were thunderheads in the area the night we arrived. I heard raindrops during the night, but it was short.

This act marked a first for me: Before this weekend, I had never slept under the stars without a tent. Both of us laid our pads on the unforgiving rock below us and placed our sleeping bags on top.

Surprisingly, I did not have issues with mosquitoes considering how close we were to the lake. Sleep came easily around 10 p.m., but not before I admired the bright crescent moon and the countless stars in the black sky, surrounding the Milky Way. I woke up at Dawn, greeted by the silent landscape of the still lake and dark, surrounding peaks like a loving partner would do in bed.

We had the fortune of watching a sunrise over the lake, and we saw how much it developed, changing by the second. Sunrays exploded every direction in slow motion, placing a spotlight on clouds far out to the west. The orange-reddish color of the early morning sun mixed with the purple and blue of the surrounding water and sky, and it set fire to the clouds closest to it.

This was taken with my iPhone 5. Sadly, cameras can not do scenes like this justice.

All we had to do was sit back, sip some instant coffee and enjoy the show.

It was a weekend filled with joy, peppered with bouts of giggling and a pinch of wonder. Twice I enjoyed skinny dipping and once I dropped the bike onto its side. And once, I made it back to the century mark on the speedometer somewhere in the area of Pollock Pines on Highway 50; the world travels by quickly at that speed, and nothing else matters besides the loud whine of the hard-charging engine and the feeling of a wide smile refusing to vacate my face.

Discovering Mont Saint-Michel in the fog and my simple life in Cherbourg

17/12 - Activate your imagination.

Imagine walking on a gray, asphalt road surrounded by dense, white fog. On either side of the road (and as far as you can make out) is either ocean water or gray, muddy sand and silt, the result of low tide. You can hear the sound of gentle waves making contact with the supports of the bridge on which you stand. Fifty feet in front of you is totally white. The same can be said of your rear view. 

You keep walking. 

Besides the sound of water and your footsteps...silence.

Eventually, a dim, muddled shape appears in the foggy distance. A few moments later, one can see it's a parked car.

A couple more more steps and another shape materializes in the blanket of white, but this time it's massive. It's actually an imposing stone wall which extends into the fog on the left and the right. There is a gateway in the center of the path, in the shape of a fortress entrance. 

As you approach the entrance, your head tilts backwards in an effort to register the appearance of Mont St. Michel through the fog, including the abbey towering above the rest of the structures.

Mont St. Michel is a tiny commune perched on an island about half a mile out to sea on the south western border of Normandy and Brittany. It seems to be a religious mecca of sorts, as there are several monks who live on the island according to the tour guide. The abbey also extends as far back as the 12th century! 

Because of the walled, isolated character of this commune, I compared it to Gondor in the Lord of the Rings films. And if we had gone on a day that didn't feature dense fog, the views would have been incredible, but I was happy to simply be there. Mont St. Michel is a UNESCO World Heritage Site which survived attacks from the English during the Hundred Years War.

I enjoyed climbing the steps through the lower levels of the village towards the abbey entrance and listening to the tour guide's deep voice reverberate throughout the granite walls of the cathedral and other chambers. It was peaceful.

The lower levels of the commune are made up of restaurants, a couple of hotels, some bars, smaller chapels, museums and gift shops. It's quite a touristy place, and for good reason. It's a great place to simply wander around, up stone steps among a castle-like community and (in our case yesterday) feel as if we're floating in the sky itself.

18/12 - The road trip to Mont St Michel was a great idea, and I'm thankful to have met friends through Couchsurfing here. It's part of the reason I'm content with my life here. 

In my previous post about the trek to Lisbon, I wrote that I have been searching for equilibrium over the past several years. While I know it most likely takes a lifetime of reflection to achieve desired balance, I have noticed I am much more happy in my new French home. 

It has been two months since I arrived in Cherbourg. My life here is simple. I don't have a phone number, car, bicycle, motorcycle, more than 25 television channels or any bills associated with those things. What I do have is books in a large shelf which sits directly across the room from the couch, in both French and English, and two specific purposes each and every day: edit for Bleacher Report and study French at least 30 minutes a day. 

I have decreased the amount of alcohol I drink considerably and replaced the pint glass with a cup of coffee, most of the time being a latte or Americano. I do not miss spending money on beer. 

The more-frequent happiness and contentment in my life lately, I believe, is the result of simplifying my existence in a world where we're constantly being encouraged to buy something, to be a good consumer. It's not important to me. I just want to spend my time in the company of family and friends. 

Christmas and New Years are approaching. I will not make a New Years Resolution because if I want to improve my life in some way I will not wait for a certain day, which I have already proven. Instead, 2017 will be a year in which I continue my never-ending education, improve my French further and search for more knowledge that could help me find equilibrium. 

Christmas in Cherbourg, coffee breaks and slowly improving French

29/11 - In my previous post, I recanted my statement about Cherbourg feeling like home because the language barrier was so difficult.

I wish to recant my recantation.

Like a badly tuned radio, the language is slowly becoming more clear the longer I am here. Every day I can recognize a new word on television, on advertisement signs, in town or when someone speaks. When watching television, I usually turn on French subtitles so I can understand more of what they say. It's a source of pride for me.

Coming to Cherbourg has been the best decision for me. It felt right over the summer before going, like it was the way forward. Several months later, and I can confidently say that was the correct thinking.

It has been good for me to reset, so to speak. It has been healthy to reflect, because I have grown from the past year. The change of scenery was just what I needed. It has given me the focus that deserted me in Porterville. Though I have a comfortable flat, I am enjoying living simply. I love walking everywhere I need to go.

I have made several friends so far and with my improving French skills, I feel like I am assimilating into this town already. It's amazing how beneficial being social is for the soul, like last night when I played pool at a local brewery with friends. I relish these opportunities to ask them about French.

One of my favorite things to do in Cherbourg is to simply sit down at a local cafe and drink a coffee while watching people walking by. At these points I speak to myself in French, describing what I see. I have written before about the importance about staying in the present, enjoying the moment. These uncomplicated treks to the cafe are perfect for savoring the moment, like truly and slowly sampling a sip of warm, bitter coffee during a chilly afternoon.

30/11 - There is a bakery across the pathway from my favorite cafe. While relaxing with my coffee today, someone from the bakery was busy cooking fresh crepes. Her station sat next to the normal shelf filled with various loaves of bread, baguettes, wraps and desserts; she made it look effortless. The aroma drifted lazily towards me and mixed with the scent of my coffee, thus intoxicating my senses.

I love living here.

3/12 - The Christmas version of Cherbourg arrived last night with the help of a large celebration. The town center and major streets around it now glow with neon-induced greatness. It's beautiful! There is now a skating rink in front of the theater and a super slide where the farmer's market usually is.

It's been a while since I wrote for the blog, but I've been working my tail off, both with Bleacher Report and studying French. I go to local basketball or soccer games, the movie theater, the grocery store, etc, and all of these places have helped me with French. 

This blog will get back to actual travel stories soon. I will find myself in Lisbon next week. I have had thoughts of planning a trip to Norway to see the Northern Lights in March, and Greece in January to visit a school friend.