The Difference Between Liberty and License

I don't think that many people give it much thought, the difference between liberty and license.  Who cares?  Who has any time or interest to think about that stuff anyway?  Could it even be important?  There is so much Instagramming and FaceBooking to do.  

What we are in the midst of like never before in these United States is the exchanging of our liberties for licenses.  Notice the word "license" is completely absent from both the preamble of the Constitution of the United States and the Declaration of Independence:

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed, by their Creator, with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.

Do you suppose that is just a coincidence or is there any reason it was written specifically this way?  I'll give you a clue, the Revolutionary War was not fought for the privileges license conditionally give us.  We rebelled against England for liberty.

The key is in the preamble to the Declaration of Independence:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed, by their Creator, with certain unalienable Rights...

A liberty is an "unalienable right".  Liberty is a right given by our Creator, not a license issued by a government.  Is the light beginning to come on?

We go to the state to get a license to drive a car.  We have been told that driving is a privilege not a right.  So, if we pay the fees, obey the rules we can have a license to drive a vehicle.  If we don't pay the fees, or break the rules of driving, our license gets revoked.  That is the way license works.  The state has authority to grant or un-grant a privilege with license.  

If our Creator gave us a right to liberty that means a government cannot take it away.  A government has no say in our liberty.  Liberties like, freedom of speech, freedom of worship, freedom of the press, and all of our liberties, we have heretofore enjoyed without much government interference.

Governments want us to willingly exchange our liberties for their licenses so they may control our ability to do the things we now have freedom to do.  Many things that once were truly liberties are really no longer liberties but licenses.  We barely notice the difference because at present, we continue to do many of the same things we have always done.

Over time, the "frog in the kettle" effect takes place.  Because we don't recognize the difference between liberty and license the "heat" in the form of increased restrictions, compliance, regulation over what was once unrestricted and unregulated is increased.  We accept this as it is done so slowly and incrementally that we do not rebel while our liberty has been taken away and in its place a license has been issued.

A license says "you cannot do what you want to do unless you have permission from government."  Remember what the state giveth, the state can take away.  If liberty is given by the Creator, the state can't take it away unless we allow it to be taken away.

The state never gives new freedoms, it does find ways to create new licenses.  We feel all tickled by the misinformation that tells us we have new freedoms.  This is the flaw in most Libertarian thinking in my opinion.  Libertarians tend to think, if the people vote for it, make it legal then let the people do it.  This never results in liberty, only license. 

Our freedom of worship has some license already attached to it.  Churches willingly allowed government to establish the "Johnson Amendment" in 1954.  It says in exchange for being "tax exempt" (something the church already was), the church could no longer endorse or promote political candidates.  Boom.  It was the means that then senator Lynden Baynes Johnson (the future president) shut up some of his political foes who happened to be pastors of churches.  With one amendment, the liberty of freedom of worship was turned to license.  As long as churches don't get involved in politics (now accepted as orthodoxy by most Americans) the government will leave you alone.  Start making political waves and the government will fine you, tax you and regulate you like a business if you survive the process. 

Take the euphoria expressed in the states that recently "legalized" marijuana.  If marijuana was a liberty, you wouldn't have to legalize it,  you could grow it, exchange it, use it at will without government interference.  You still can't do that, oh, you must purchase a license.  You pay for the privilege.  You promise to do it the way government says to do it and agree to continue to comply with whatever other regulations they come up with.

Liberty isn't regulated.  Liberty ceases to be liberty when it is regulated.  Our founders declared that in the United States speech should not be regulated.  The press should not be regulated.  Our worship should not be regulated.  Do we see these liberties slipping away toward license?  

China is one example.  You can worship openly in China as long as you do so in a "government  sanctioned church", one that has been approved and granted a license, one that will not have anything negative to say about their government or whatever else they deem objectionable.  If the church gets too independent, their license is taken away, church leaders arrested and the church disbanded.  Not liberty, not freedom at all, that is license my friend.

So, in our era of "big government", making abridgments to our liberties in the name of "the public good", increased oversight by government agencies, our privacy invaded, understand the government is bent on taking the place of our Creator, doing away with the Creators' liberties, counterfeiting them and taking control of them through license.

Makes you wonder why the state grants "marriage licenses" anyway.   If you have children you might be more than a little surprised by what you agreed to by signing your marriage license.  Probably more than a little surprised.

I hope you now see, and I hope understand the difference between liberty and license.  Now go ponder the difference between justice and fairness.

What If Money Didn't Matter?

Video: What if money didn't matter? Click here to view.

It's a great thought, what if money didn't matter?  Wow, we could all run around the world doing whatever our little heart desired, no stress, no responsibilities.  We could live forever with all of that off our plate.  It's a great fantasy to only do what we are passionate about, do only what gives us life and care not a whit for the rest.

Only life doesn't work that way.  Money DOES matter and what about the vitally important things NO ONE is passionate about?  Who is passionate about changing baby diapers?  The one or two strange people who might be would probably change their minds once all the diaper changing opportunities were dumped (pun intended) upon them.

I am not saying that it is required that you be miserable in order to make money.  But the thought that you can live without some kind of hard work or have to do things that you don't like doing at times is irresponsible and immature.  We all have to to do things we don't like in order for life to actually work.

The thought that money doesn't matter sounds so noble, so selfless, so un-materialistic.  The truth of the matter is, it is anything but those things.  Really, think about it.

The fact that you may not be motivated by money means that you depend on others who are.  As much as we would like to think we could live only on air and good intentions, the nasty truth of the matter is, we can't.  We need food too.  Oh, and water.  Oh, and a place to sleep.  Oh, and some light.  Oh, and some heat.  Oh, and enough money to pay our Obamacare Affordable Care Act Insurance premiums which used to cost $0 if you didn't want any but now that's illegal.  Oh, and you get the idea.  The truth of the matter is all of that oh, stuff COSTS MONEY!  Someone's money.  Even if you feel like you want to live like money doesn't matter, you no doubt are depending on someone who does think it matters.  They are subsidizing you in some way.  Your parents are either enabling your extended childhood by paying the tab on your inconsiderate pasty white tail, or your friends are coughing up enough to donate to you to keep your selfish hide afloat or the American tax payer is.  It cannot be denied that SOMEONE must do the work and get paid so that they can fund your lazy self to do little to nothing.  So, living like money doesn't matter is not noble.

Neither is living like money doesn't matter selfless.  It is in fact incredibly selfish.  When you are only focused on doing enough to meet your own needs, no matter how meager you think they may be, you aren't even thinking on how you might help others who are in need.  It isn't even on your radar screen.  What? Think about being generous?  I know, that only applies to you.  You want others who do think money matters to be generous towards you.  You never stopped being selfish long enough to think how you might be generous towards others.  When you only want to beg from others or work only enough to meet your own needs, it precludes how you might help others with the necessary things of life.  No, that thought never enters your mind because you are intrinsically selfish.

Sure, we would all like to run all over creation with only our backpacks and a camera thinking we are doing something of value.  The real truth?  You are hiding in plain sight justifying your not wanting to grow up and face the music of life and contribute towards really making the world a better place for everyone, not just yourself.

I know the kind of eye roll mentioning the subject of retirement will get from the "free spirit" crowd.  But let me ask the question anyway.  What are you going to do when your benefactors who care about money and are subsidizing your selfish hyde die?  What are you going to do when you are too old to run around with your camera and backpack?  Really, what is your plan?  I know savings accounts and retirement investments and the like are so boring,  but one day they won't be, trust me.  One day, you will wish you had some of that boring stuff.  Some day, you actually might want to have a place to live and food to eat and enough money to pay for your Affordable Care Act Obamacare healthcare plan.  But you won't and it will be too late and you will have to mooch off others to live some kind of minimal life.  Good luck to you.

Isn't it more selfless to think of others instead of yourself?  Why not GET A REAL JOB doing something that MAKES MONEY so you can actually be a generous person and help others?  Why not make A LOT OF MONEY to help a lot of people?  Just because you make a lot of money does not mean you have to live like a conceited idiot.  You can actually make a lot of money and live a simple life while having the means to help a lot of other people who have legitimate needs.  You want to really be noble?  Think about giving up your selfish extended childhood-adult-life running around doing nothing of real value and go to work making money so you can be a part of the solution of helping others instead of leaving the responsibility to real adults who give back and make the world a much better place.

Do you really want to live an un-materialistic life?  Then make a ton of money and give it away to others in need keeping only enough for yourself to live and not have to mooch off of others.  That is living a true un-materialistic life.  Just living a minimal life by being a burden to others is what is known as being LAZY, it is not being un-materialistic.

So, if no one has ever had this little talk with you about life, you can thank me.  It's the truth.  Some day, you will care and hopefully it won't be too late.  You unfortunately can't be a child your whole life.  It is well neigh time to come of age, get a job, put away the backpack and camera until your days off, make your own way in life and think of someone besides yourself.  It might be like having pizza for the first time when you were age 3.  It looks like you won't like it, but you might actually love it.  Work doesn't have to be the end of our lives.

If you can think deeply for longer than a minute, ponder this deep thought, "What if everyone lived exactly the way I do?"  Would life work?  Where would the money come from?  How would the work get done?  Who would collect the garbage?  Who would make sure the sewer systems functioned?  Who would do the dirty work?  Ponder that deeply while you skip through the fields of daisies capturing digital images.

You'll thank me later.  Really.

A Journey of a Thousand Miles - The Food

One of the fun things about traveling on a motorcycle as opposed to a camper, trailer or motor home is that you are forced to eat meals "out" somewhere.  It doesn't always mean that you go to a restaurant which often happens but many serendipitous things happen regarding food.  The restaurants you go to are also varied, especially in Alaska where we have many communities without a single "chain" restaurant present.  Exploring some of those homey places that miss the message about marketing to the masses is kind of fun - for two reasons.  Sometimes you discover a great place, good food, friendly owners and sometimes it's a disaster which makes for good story telling later.  We end up eating at a lot of places we might avoid when we are at home but when they are the only game in town, you man up and sit at the table.

On the road on a bike just makes eating a lot of fun.  I am six feet, six inches tall.  When I ride, I usually wear the typical riding chaps and leather riding jacket.  I look pretty intimidating I am sure to a lot of people when I stride up to their front door.  But what it does is prompt a lot of conversations.  Since you can't help but notice me, lots of people want to know where you are from and where you are going.  They want to tell you about their bike and where they have been.  Usually it makes the wait for your food pretty short filling up the time with conversation with strangers.

The other thing is meeting up with friends in distant communities.  Whenever Christian people want to visit, food is usually involved.  Since we generally don't go out drinking and dancing, food is the next best thing to do.  On this particular trip, we had contacted a couple of friends at the far end of our trip to see if we could....go get a bite to eat or something.  Well, the word was out and other people we know heard and wanted to see us and others heard as well and before you know it, we had a genuine potluck going.  Someone offered to host as a place to meet and bingo, soon you have chicken on the grill and Mexican dip and the latest fresh fruit to arrive at the grocery store.  Awesome.  

There are the necessary meals that offer good meeting times, breakfast is especially good for this.  Since you may want to avoid the morning chill, it is a good excuse to linger over an omelet and visit with friends.  Our first morning out on the road found us in Wasilla for breakfast.  Our friends had some of their best friends who live in that community.  We agreed on a place to eat which was a ways out of town but had lots of seating for a group like us.  It ended up being a great place because they offered an all-you-can-eat brunch which in my understanding means you get to eat bacon like it is going out of style.  Wow, all of that salty, fatty goodness goes great with conversation with friends.  

The biker rally is also a good example of getting lots of good food on the road.  The motorcycle-food connection isn't really talked about much, but there is a definite connection.  It is easy to call up a friend who lives 100 miles away and say, "hey, how about we meet in the middle at that restaurant?"  An hour later both bike riders arrive at the same place and there is soon food in front of you.  

Since you are eating at different place than you do when you are home, you get to do some adventure eating, ordering things you have never ordered before.  I don't know about you, but when I find something I particularly like at a local restaurant, it is very difficult to not order it.  You want to avoid disappointment when it comes to paying for food.  So, when you are poring over the menu at a greasy spoon in that distant town, you can throw caution to the wind and get something you hope will be satisfying.  Just a note here:  If you ever are driving through Tok, Alaska, eat at Fast Eddy's.  Great food.  Order the "deep fried mushrooms" for an appetizer.  A platter big enough to feed a dozen people will arrive heaped with golden morsels of goodness.

Food really is part of the adventure.  I admit, I love food, it is my vice.  But we all got to eat and at least when you are riding your bike putting many miles underneath you, you can't be standing at the refrigerator door reaching in for a "snack".  So when you are riding you are visualizing your next meal and how good it is going to taste and who you will be visiting with.  I think I will take a ride tonight.

A Journey of a Thousand Miles - The Biker Rally

The whole excuse for taking this ride was to attend a biker rally.  I didn't know what to think when I was invited to tag along on this ride a year ago and attend my first biker rally.  I was as much attracted to the idea as I was intimidated.  Isn't there a little "wildness" in us all?  At least enough to find out what you don't know.  What on earth does a biker rally consist of?  What do they do?  Will  it end up with me getting arrested?  "Honestly officer, I was only an innocent bystander!"  

Rumors of hard drinking, fist fights and bad behavior are all I have ever heard about bikers when they get together.  At church we have "fellowships".  With friends we have "get-togethers".  Bikers have "rallies".  Essentially it's all the same, people gather together around a common interest and talk about their common interest, the biker rally including a little more alcohol and tobacco (mostly) smoke than I am used to in my "fellowships".  

If you read my blog from a year ago about this same trip, same rally, same excuse to ride, you know that this rally is an annual event between the Christian biker club, the "Black Sheep" and the "HOGs" or the "Harley Owners Group."  The idea is that the Black Sheep want to forge strong ties between the two groups with the goal of evangelizing a HOG now and then.  So it's an invitational from the Black Sheep to the HOGs and the Black Sheep put on a spread to entice everyone to come.  Last year they slow cooked a real hog with lots of side dishes to boot.  They charged us $20 each and since it was for a good cause, I didn't mind.  This year it was a full Thanksgiving style dinner with turkey and ham, cranberry salads, and beans and it was $30 bucks each.  That was a little steep for me, good cause or not.  But we paid it, by far the most expensive meal of the trip.

I digress.  The "rally" is really interesting.  Many of these people obviously know each other from years and events past.  There is loud, boisterous talking, lots of laughing while everyone is waiting for the call to dinner.  Once the dinner is ready, there is short blessing over the meal and a long line forms while people wait for their turn at some food.  My wife and I were served up and we headed for a table with some open seating.  We met some great people, most of them sporting facial hair, one biker lady in a pink tutu and all sporting leather somewhere on their person.  We chat about our bikes, the weather, and riding in general.  Little bits and pieces of personal life are woven into the conversation.  I am amazed that no one asks me what I do for a living.  That is usually a conversation killer once they find out I pastor a local church.  I don't ask what they do for a living either and it never comes up.  There doesn't seem to be any real point to the rally, except renewing friendships and getting out on the bikes.

At the rally are some personalities that I particularly remember from the year before.  The most notable, Peppermint Patty.  She is legendary among the HOG riders.  

She is fierce, spunky and most of all, dedicated to riding her Harley Davidson.  The most often asked question directed to Patty is, "how many miles have you racked up by now?"  The reason they ask is because Patty has almost 550,000 documented miles.  Those are verified miles.  She lives to ride, rides to live.  At the drop of a hat, she will head out with someone, anyone, and ride until they are done.  Sometimes that means riding from Alaska to somewhere in the lower 48 and back.  "I do what I want to do", she told me.  Then there is a very tall woman whose name I can't recall but has a resemblance to Gomer Pyle when she smiles.  She is Patty's most often riding companion.  She is tall and slender, kind of the other end of the spectrum from Patty.  She is quieter than Patty and likes her Jack Daniels.  Si shows up in his Harley "TriGlide" or trike.  He is a gentle man with a long white beard kind of looks like ZZ Top and wears a well-worn leather vest with many patches.  He is cheered at his arrival.  

Speaking of vests, the leather vest is something every biker seems to own.  On their vest is their "patch" signifying their biker club and many other pins and patches denoting something important about their club.  Many have documented mileage patches showing how many miles they have ridden their bikes.  Then there are the "chains."  My theory about the vest chains is this.  Whenever a person gets inducted into their biker club, they are  presented with a vest that is "patched".  The vest probably fit them at the point it was given to them.  Most motorcycle vests have "expansion lacing" on each side under the arm which can be let out over time to accommodate their owners, ah, growth over the years.  When you let out as much lacing as you have, you get some "chains".  Chains are about 4" long and have a snap on each end.  As you continue to grow, you snap in a chain on each side of your vest where the buttons are and the chains hang in between connecting the two sides, holding the two sides together but allowing you to continue to wear the vest.  This way, you never have to discard your vest after all of your patches and pins have been attached to it.  Kind of genius and stylish in a biker sort of way.

In between my own conversations, I catch snippets of other conversations.  One person is explaining to another that the Black Sheep and the HOGs are almost the same except that the Black Sheep are the "religious arm of the HOGs."  Religious?  Interesting.  Another tells of a unexpected skid down the highway in which her Harley was totaled.  Others talk of trips taken and those that will be taken.  I listen to some of it amused and some of it causing me to ponder.  

As the food is consumed conversations continue as there really isn't much else to do at the campground.  Some cigars come out and I discover it doesn't take many cigars to make a LOT of smoke that seems to drift everywhere, even against the light breeze.  Suddenly a couple men in a side by side 4 wheeler pull up and shout louder than the conversations that they LOVE AND APPRECIATE THE HOGs AND BLACK SHEEP.  They are the owners of the Grizzly Bear campground and they have been hosting the "Meet in the Middle" biker rally for 12 years running.  They show their appreciation by gifting the group a case of Alaskan Beer and a box of wine of some kind.  Cheers!  Hugs!  The passenger in the side by side gets out, an older man who is wearing enormous bear paw slippers.  

He is obviously Mr. Grizzly Bear of the campground.  Lots of the bikers seem to know him.  On their way over to pick up a beer, they stop and shake hands and the women hug him.  

After being incredibly warm all afternoon, the sun finally dips behind the ridge behind the camp and things start to cool.  The laughing gets louder as the alcohol turns up the volume.  A song begins to be sung out loud to guffaws and approval.   Some drift off to their cabins.  The cigar smoke remains heavy.  Others like us decide it would be good to take a walk after spending so much of the day sitting.  We wander down all the little lanes of the camp which is quite large even if you don't realize it all at first.  From tent campers, to cabin rentals to motorhomes large and small, they have a place for you.   There are numerous Harley Davidsons parked everywhere.  I am finally beginning to recognize what seems like an infinite number of models the company makes.  We study many of them looking for cool mods and accessories dreaming of the bike we will ride someday when we grow up.

The hour of the day approaches 10:00 pm and I am ready to lay down on my hard as the earth bed in our hotel room.  I'll take a hot shower first and perhaps that set me up for a good snooze for the night.  As I get ready to turn in, the room is too warm so I open the sliding glass door to the balcony.  The swift rushing Nenana River is right below us and the sound of it is soothing.  Along about 2 am in the morning someone fires up their very LOUD piped bike and revs it up for our benefit.  Must be the alcohol talking I think to myself.

As it turns out, the bed was the hardest thing I have slept on in many years.  I tossed and turned all night.  It might have worked out if one side of me was perfectly flat like the mattress.  I've got too many curves and lumps and bumps to be sleeping on an apparent sheet of plywood.  I get up somewhat relieved to be off the bed and shower again.  I want to go down to the "church service" that is going to begin at 8:30 am.  I get there just a minute or two early for church but by the same margin too late for the coffee.  It's gone.  I was hoping to recoup some of my $60 I paid for dinner by getting some coffee since I am eating "low carb" and all they offer are Costco muffins. There is also a few of the beers and the box of wine left.  I pass.  I take a seat near where the speaker is going to speak.  

It's the first church service I have attended where stogie smoke waifs through the air.  

I wonder how long do those cigars last?  The speaker is actually very good.  Well spoken, good illustrations and he keeps it moving.  I think a couple of HOGs are actually in attendance which is the goal of the whole event.  20 minutes max and it's done.  No singing this year which with this crowd is maybe an improvement.  We say our good byes and begin to load the car with the heavy stuff then we don our gear as it looks as if it could rain on our way to Fairbanks.

It's kind of ironic that the rally takes place so early in the trip.  In a way it is the reason we are even here or at least that is how this trip got started.  Now it is over and I find myself looking forward to what is ahead, especially if we can avoid what looks like threatening rain.  

A Journey of a Thousand Miles - The Open Road

"Because it is there".  Probably the most often repeated phrase people use to explain why they do what they do when they can't articulate the reason they do what they do.  I know a lot of reasons why I like to ride my motorcycle yet there are still some elusive reasons I haven't fully pinned down yet.  Somehow to me there is the lure of the open road and more than other types of vehicles, the Harley Davidson helps me access that.

Especially after a long hiatus from riding there is a kind of excitement and joy that goes long with rumbling down the road on a big machine, wind in the hair (so to speak) and the adventures to be had doing it.  The joke is that motorcycle riders need ride with their mouths closed to avoid getting bugs stuck between their teeth.  The reason riders get bugs in their teeth is because they are smiling, sometimes laughing as they power on.  It is stress relief therapy for people who ride.  If we didn't wear full-face helmets you might see more of this.  

I have lived on the Kenai Peninsula for 27 years.  There is essentially three roads, the Seward, Sterling and Spurr highways.  I have traveled over these same roads with their spectacular views so many times I couldn't even estimate the number of trips taken on these roads.  Not to sound jaded to the sights that people come the world over to see, I have seen those mountains and that water more than a few times, from a car.  Get on a bike and it's like starting all over again.  It's a new road, new sights and new adventures nestled in the trappings of old ones.  The motorcycle kind of puts you in touch with all of that in a new way.

So it is with this journey of a thousand miles.  I have been on these roads lots of times.  Some I haven't been on for a long time, like 30 years or so.  But I have never been down some of them on a motorcycle.  It is like seeing those sights for the first time and getting all of the "wows!" and wonder all over again.  It's thrilling.

As we near departure time, we double check our bikes to expend nervous energy and then put on our riding gear.  It's late morning yet there is still a little bit of cool to the air.  The car is loaded and we start our bikes.  It's road time.  I am chosen to lead because I have cruise control on my bike.  It keeps the group together when the leader rides at a constant speed.  We work our way through town and to the next place and then we feel like we are on the road for real.  We open things up a bit and set the cruise.  The bike sounds great thrumming consistently and strong underneath me.  The sun is out in full force.  I begin to sweat.  I open up my "vents" on my riding jacket.  These are nothing but illusions as no air gets through those things.  Pretty soon I am unzipping and thinking I've got to shed some layers.

We get on the north side of Cooper Landing when we have to pull off on the side of the road beside Kenai Lake.  We dump our heavy coats in the car and don just our leather vests with long sleeve shirts.  It's still the month of May and it's the warmest riding I have ever had.  Things are much better now and we up our speed a little.  There is virtually no traffic in our lane.  Everyone seems to be heading in the direction we are coming from and few seem to be going where we are headed.  Perfect.  

We make it to Anchorage after a stop in Girdwood for someone to fill up their tiny gas tank.  Then we power on.  The girls go ahead to take the car into the dealer for some work.  We will meet up with them then.  The road to Anchorage is great and we arrive in a short time.  The temps are still rising and in the city traffic the heat from our engines are poaching the backside of our legs.  I hate riding in traffic waiting for lights.  This is everything riding is NOT about.  I can't wait to get on the road again.

Our goal for the day is a modest one.  We just have to get to Eagle River to stay at the house of some friends who are loaning their house to us for the night while they are away.  After dinner on the far side Anchorage, it is only a few minutes later we arrive at the home of our friends and get ready for the evening.  Greg and I take a short ride about town before we call it quits for the night.  

The next morning the trip for me begins in earnest.  We get to Wasilla to meet friends for breakfast, join up with another rider and his wife and son and get on the road for real.  I love it.  We pull out heading north on the Parks highway with the goal of Cantwell for the night.  The morning air is cool and the dark foreboding clouds up ahead promise rain.  Whatever, I am ready to ride.  

We power up and flow with the Memorial Day traffic until Trapper Creek.  For some reason past this point the traffic always seems to disappear.  The road is open, the pavement is dry and the sun comes out again.  The rain never makes an appearance.  We shed heavy layers once again and are riding in vest and long sleeves.  The curves and hills stretch out before us and the miles go underneath our bikes easily.  It is good to be riding again, this is the real deal and it is great.

A Journey of a Thousand Miles - Lodging

One of the things you have to figure out on any trip longer than a day is "where are we going to stay?"  Lodging is one of the fun and interesting parts of any trip.  When I travel by myself or in this case with another friend, I am up for keeping it affordable, cheap, spartan, and when I can, free.  It is my minimalist tendencies kicking in again.

Perhaps it comes from the road trip adventures my dad took us on early on in my life.  We usually didn't stay at motel/hotels until we were older.  When we were really small, we would sleep in the back seat of the VW Beetle while dad drove through the night.  The back seat actually folded down into a flat surface big enough for my sister and I to fully stretch out.  Usually a sleeping bag was spread out to cover the itchy wool material that covered the area behind the seat and a blanket to cover us made it down right cozy.  One memorable adventure was when Dad and I took a box van truck from Fairbanks to Haines, Alaska.  It was full of mattresses bound for a youth camp in Southeast Alaska. There was other equipment in there too, like a washer and dryer, but it was all covered up with mattresses in different levels.  We had to pull off on the side of the road somewhere between the two towns for a couple nights and I rolled out my sleeping bag on a little loft of mattresses stacked up high.  It was fun sleeping in the back of that truck.  

Honestly, that little memory kicks in anytime I am traveling light or on my own and I rather delight in the idea of tucking myself away somewhere cozy for the night.  I also like the idea of free lodging.  So, when planning this most recent trip, we planned to take advantage of our many contacts around the road system in Alaska who are connected with a church.  Many churches have little rooms with a bed or a place to roll out a sleeping bag for the night.  I have done that many-a-time in my years in Alaska as a youth pastor on youth choir tours.  I've slept on pews scooted together forming a fairly decent sleeping surface (if you don't mind the high spot in the middle), couches, daycare napping pads, nursery crib mattresses strung together, anything to cushion this aging body from the cold, hard floor.  

In our planning, we would need lodging in the Wasilla area, Denali, Fairbanks and Valdez.  No problem as all of those places have Assembly of God churches with friends as the pastor.

As I wrote the last time, we had invited the wives along on this trip which was not in the original plan.  This requires different thinking when planning the lodging.  Although I am OK with no shower now and then, my wife is not OK with that.  She requires hot water, electricity and coffee with creamer.  We quickly realized that we needed to upgrade our lodging ideas.  Usually that means staying somewhere that is going to cost a little money.  

When you are just a couple, you can sometimes stay with friends.  Lots of people have a "guest room" or at least a room with an extra bed.  But who has two guest rooms?  Not many have the ability to house 4 adults and in my case "full size" adults for the night?  Without going into a long story, we had mutual friends who have a nice house in Eagle River who were going to be gone at the very time we were going to be in their area.  "Would you all like to just stay at our place while we are gone?", Ann the wife offered.  Sure!  

Jack and Ann have a wonderful home, very comfortable and one we have stayed in several times.  They were very generous to allow us to use it when they were not there.   So that took care of our first night.  It was quite nice as usual and I slept very well.  We even were able to park our Harley Davidsons in the garage for the night.  Deluxe accommodations you might say.  The wives were certainly on board for this idea.  Lots of room, hot water, electricity and coffee.  I was feeling a little giddy about being off to a good start.

Our next place we needed to stay was the meeting place for the "Meet in the Middle" biker rally near Denali Park or Cantwell to be a little more accurate.  We had planned to stay at the Grizzly Bear Campground all along for this night.  

Since the rally occurs here each year, it only makes sense to stay right there.  There is an Assembly of God church in the community of Healy which is not very far from this campground, but "when in Rome" as they say.  When I mentioned to my wife we were staying at the Grizzly Bear Campground, she looked very sternly at me and asked, "am I going to have to stay in a sleeping bag?"  I assured her that no, this was not the case.  Even though you could tent camp it if you wanted to, they have nice little rooms with beds, showers and balconies overlooking the Nenana river.  It's quite nice actually.  A night I look forward to.  This did the trick for her and we were back on.  The only trouble with our room was the two double size beds instead of the king size I asked for.  You have to understand that sleeping together on a double size bed is OK when you are first married, I mean you are in love and all of that and we were a lot skinnier then.  You tend to overlook a few things when you are first married.  I generously gave my wife half of the bed even though she is half my size.  I slept diagonally from one corner to the opposite corner and she got the other two corners.  This doesn't fly anymore.  There is also some ridiculous talk about somebody snoring and stealing too much of the covers.  So, we staked out our own beds.  Probably a good thing too, as mine was as hard as a sheet of plywood.  I think I tossed and turned so much that night that I would have tossed my wife out of bed just from the shock waves traveling to the opposite corners of the mattress.

After a somewhat restless night, we enjoyed a long, hot shower which I felt helped me justify some of my $170 for the night.  I think Mr. Grizzly Bear does pretty well with his little campground.  We checked out and headed to our next destination, Fairbanks.

Now I was a little nervous about where we were staying in the "golden heart city".  Originally, I was planning to ask the pastor of Fairbanks First Assembly if we could sack out on sleeping bags somewhere in the church.  Knowing I had to upgrade my plan with my wife along, I went to the next best place: Priceline.  I carefully read the descriptions of the many hotels and disregarded all of them and chose the cheapest place listed, a Best Western for $99.  I thought, if the Grizzly Bear had beds like a buck board wagon, what is a $99 Best Western going to have?

As it turns out, this was the most wonderful hotel of the whole trip!  We got to the "golden heart city" a little early for checking in but I wanted to unload our stuff from our friends car and let them go on to stay with their son, his wife and baby granddaughter.  So, first I had to find this place.  There are two Best Western hotels in Fairbanks.  One is right on the main drag and you can spot it easily right away.  Our Best Western is a little more difficult to find.  I had to head down Peger Road, cross the Chena River (on a bridge, I just rode over it) and turn right on an industrial road that headed to the rail yard of the Alaska Rail Road.  It didn't look promising.  Then, a little sign pointed down a very winding and fairly long street with no other businesses, houses or other buildings around, just woods and nothing to see.  I rode down this street thinking, "I hope this place doesn't stink."  I finally arrived to a quite nice place, rather newish looking.  There were almost no cars at all in the parking spaces and I assumed the place might be fairly vacant.  

I parked my Harley and walked in.  Nice so far, clean and the pool even looks inviting.  I went to the counter and "AJ" a young and fairly small lady of what seemed to me Indian (as in India) descent was there to greet me.  I said, "I know I am a little early to check in, but is there any way I can do so?"  Her fingers clicked and clacked across her computer keyboard for a few seconds and then her face brightened and said pleasantly, "yes, we have a room available."  Music to my ears!  I said thank you as she handed me the little key cards to our room and I went up to the third floor and down the hall to the room assigned to me.  I opened the door and peered into the darkness.  What?  This room is big!  I flip on a light.  It is a suite!  Sweet, I say!  The bed?  King.  Soft.  Perfect.  My wife is going to think I am a genius.  I scored a hotel suite on Priceline for $99 bucks.  I am a genius.

Needless to say, it was a wonderful night of sleep.  We had lots of room for all our stuff and it was very comfortable, even the couch was comfortable.  We took our time in the morning and used our fair share of hot water in the shower.  The other cool thing is that the Best Western hotels offer a "free" breakfast.  It actually isn't bad.  We and 5,000 of our best friends (the place was not deserted after all) ate our fill of scrambled eggs and little sausages and JoLynn had a waffle. The coffee wasn't actually coffee, it was Nescafe which I hadn't had for over a year since we were in Israel.  It was kind of a memory trigger of that wonderful trip.

I was feeling a little better about our next destination, Valdez, since I had booked a room there for Greg and I to stay in and split the cost.  The plan was that the ladies would stay in Fairbanks an extra day and return home via the route we arrived.  Greg and I were going to push on to Valdez, about 385 miles away for the next night.  I Pricelined this room as well but the choice wasn't too hard as there were only two hotels to choose from and the review on one complained about the running diesel engine of the 18 wheeler that idled all night just outside their window and the noise from the harbor was just as bad.  The other choice, the Best Western also offered that free breakfast...visions of little sausages were dancing in my head.

It was a long haul from the "golden heart city" to Valdez the next day.  By the time we arrived, our backsides had about all the saddle time they were going to allow us.  We were beat and I was hoping the room was another surprise suite.  No such luck.  It did have two double beds for which I was grateful for this time as I didn't think Greg would go for the opposite corner scheme.  The beds were passable for two weary road warriors.  I conked out after a hot shower.  I think I could have even slept on the buck board bed with an 18 wheeler idling outside our window that night and been OK.  

Yes, lodging is a great part of the adventure.  As it was, it was partly a great trip as we didn't have to sleep on the floor of a church as we would have originally planned which would have necessitated carrying even more stuff like foam pads and sleeping bags.  Staying in a hotel helps keep things light and less complicated although at a little more cost.  I hate to admit it to myself, but even being a minimalist at heart and my training, I kind of like the hotel thing.  At the end of the day this pudgy body likes to rest well and that more and more sounds like a bed worth paying for.

A Journey of a Thousand Miles - Traveling Light

It is said that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.  That first step is very careful planning, especially when that journey is on a motorcycle.  You see, you can only carry so much when you ride a bike.  But that is the beauty of the thing.  Simplicity, lightness, freedom and a feeling of being unencumbered is what biking is all about.  No hatchbacks here, no way.

So, you must take serious consideration what things are necessary to bring that are irreplaceable to you on the road, such things as a tire patch kit, a small air compressor, essential clothing, oil, as well as a little food and water.  As a biker, it is a good thing to be a minimalist.  Light and easy I always say.  Don't get weighted down by all your stuff when you are trying to travel light and fast.  Yes.

I try to get all my stuff into the three compartments on my Harley Davidson Ultra Glide.  It is a "bagger" which means it has in my case, three stowage compartments into which to load essential gear.  These compartments look pretty big until you try to load your stuff into them, then they look amazingly small.  They also have little stickers on the inside that tell you their maximum weight capacity.  My saddle bags?  A maximum of 10 pounds of gear, each.  My tour pack? A maximum of 15 pounds of gear.  That isn't a lot of space as motorcycle gear is usually kind of bulky and heavy by nature.  

So, with careful planning and sacrificial mindset I pare down my essentials until they fit within the limited confines of these small spaces.  It is difficult because in Alaska, you never know what kind of weather you will encounter.  It could be literally freezing one day and a heat wave the next and then the day after that, pelt you with rain.  Do you chance driving your bike with hypothermia as you rumble down the road or do you swelter as the weather plays "gotcha" with you as the sun beats down mercilessly on the rider clad in black, heavy, insulated garb or would you rather enjoy riding soaked? You make some calculated guesses and pay a lot of attention to the weather forecasts.  You can't take everything, but what will you wish you had with you?   

I hate to admit this, but there is also the issue of vanity.  What do you want to look like as you traverse the country side in your Harley Davidson?  The Grapes or Wrath? The Clampetts?  I've seen motorcycle riders with a rats nest of ratchet straps, bags, duct tape, bungees, and string securing monstrous containers of who-knows-what to a tiny little sissy bar on the back seat.  It's a pitiful sight.  The graceful lines of a beautifully designed motorcycle blighted with what looks like a biker bag lady owner.  No, a bike should be freed from the extra weight and the ridiculousness of the jury rigged luggage.  To the outside observer, it should be difficult to tell if you are on a long ride or not.

Days ahead of time you set out your essentials.  Hmm...I'll be gone 5 days, If I take two pair of underwear and each day turn them inside out, that's four days worth.  Since I won't be walking in the garage or outside in my socks, those will last at least two or three days each.  You can really minimize if you want to. 

This new Harley has some very neat "bag liners" that are little duffle bags that are designed to fit exactly into the saddle bags just right.  That way when you go in for the night, you can pull all your stuff out all neatly stowed in the liner instead of several Wal Mart plastic bags and wads of dirty socks.  The problem being, not much fits into the liners.  

Once in awhile you check in with the other rider that you are taking this trip with.  What are you bringing?  How much stuff you got?  Usually you admit that there is just too much to take with you and too many contingencies to cover with too limited of carrying capacity.  What to do?

You decide to take drastic action.  You invite the wives to go along.  "Say, sweetie, how would you like to spend a few days with your bestie in the car and follow us on the bikes?  Wouldn't that be fun?  Remember how jealous you were last year that you didn't go with us? It will be fun. Sure it would, you could talk and see the sights and eat out.  Oh, and could you bring your car with the hatchback?  We have just a few things that would be better if we could put them in the back.  It would save a lot of trouble."

So the wives chat and decide it sounds like a lot of fun.  They take the bait!  Now it is on.  We can ride free and easy and the car can haul all the junk.  No more economizing on gear, take it all.  Take all the just-in-case stuff and leave the minimizing for the next time.  Woo Hoo!  Just like having cake and eating it too.

So it turns out, the ancient wisdom of the journey of a thousand miles? Invite the wives along to carry the big and heavy stuff.  That's the real secret to traveling light.