With camera equipment in a gas tank bag, I set out across the gorgeous southwest with the rest of my belongings in a duffle tightly cinched to my sissy bar.  I would end up doing 1,700 miles on my Harley-Davidson—my first motorcycle road trip.  Much to the dismay of my loved ones, I was also alone.

     I discovered that riding in solitude connects you to a place of beauty like nothing else. 

     Be humbled by navigating the earth in such a fragile state as you grow weary from fighting the elements.  Gaze upon your surroundings, majestic and pure, as the fatigue washes away.  Every emotion is magnified atop a roaring machine hurtling you through time and space; a thrilling communion with the natural world.

    Yet the farther you stray from Eden, the more your soul brimming with wonder becomes hollow.  Manmade structures seem as mockeries of the neighboring splendor.  Wild creations have succumbed.  Reminiscence of the dichotomy, natural versus unnatural, blend together in my mind—a darkly romantic vision.