Adulting: to behave in an adult manner;
engage in activities associated with adulthood.
After spending the summer riding my scooter, I had to face some facts about my life. Returning to a job that I said I would never do again or ride across the United States. My wife and daughter needed me to go back to work. The reality of my bank account said I could make it to Boise, Idaho.
My great desire to do the “Wild Hogs” run away from life was very strong. Just me and my Hog running away, knuckles in the wind, sweet smell of worn leather, gas, exhaust, grumble of the pipes, flattened bugs on my glasses, and a wide ass grin on my face. Fifty-two years old, unemployed, possibly unemployable, a week away from unemployment ending, 4 months into being a “biker.” Life was great.
Great — if I ignored the responsibilities to my family. My wife needed her husband back. Her car needed new tires and oil changed. She needed to pay some bills that we hadn’t the money for. She needed me to take the garbage out, clean the kitchen and cook dinner. She needed me to listen to the problem she is having with her boss. My daughter needed to get her drivers license, so she can get a job and get on with her life. My dogs missed me. Buster needed to go to the vet and Sasha needed a bath.
It isn’t like I hadn’t tried to find a job. I’d had 20 interviews with rude people, in places I clearly did not belong. One interview, I was rejected by an email that was sent to me as I walked into the interview. We had a great interview and she said she would add me to the list for the next step. When I got to my car, I felt pretty good about it and checked my phone. There was the rejection. I stopped looking for work after that. Lost all hope of ever finding something I could do.
I was sitting in a little coffee shop in Morton, waiting for the roads to thaw out so I could continue my ride up the back side of Mt Saint Helens. I going over my pros and cons list. The thought of running was appealing. The thought of being homeless and unemployed was a nightmare. I really didn’t have a choice. It was time to call.
By the end of my Americano and bowl of hot soup, and employed again. I was to start Monday. I sent a text to my wife with two words – Start Monday. She was ecstatic. I, on the other hand, was disgruntled but I was adulting.
The Miner’s Car —
Spirit Lake —
Alder Lake —
Adulting… Finding some sort of balance between work, bills, family, pets and escape. This happened in 2014. I had quite a stressful job that I was under qualified for. The work environment was cut throat competitive. When I was terminated, I didn’t think I could work again. It took a month of sleeping, eating, binge watching, weeping, and moping before I could even take a shower.
I talked with my wife and she suggested I try and go out. I came home with the Street Bob a week later. I rode every day, rain or shine, till I started to like it. It took a whole summer to bring me up to where I could talk with anyone about working again. The daily escapes relieved me if my mind. The depression would disappear when I turned onto Main St and opened the throttle.
I truly believe that losing that job was the gift I needed to move on in life. I have gone from a job that I dreaded going to every day to a job that I really like to do. I am very fortunate. The ride was spectacular. What a great way to close out the season with blue skies, beautiful scenery and a new job.