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I believe it's the end of an era. I'd like to say it's unfortunate; it really is something I almost fear to admit, but nonetheless, it's here. My personality and goals have changed over the past few years and it's time to shed what once was and embrace what the future holds. I think the days of old, where I'd ride around on some sort of machine to rip up the lawn, have come and gone.
When Laura and I were living in Florida for those six months in 2013, I thought of nothing other than someday buying a snowmobile to carry me across the beautiful winter landscape of Maine. I could picture myself climbing steep hills to see what types of views the mountaintops would offer and I pictured myself negotiating the forest trails down below. As long as I was lost in deep fluffy snow, I'd be happy. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of traversing a pine forest a calm and sunny morning after a blizzard, I can tell you it's like nothing else. The peace and isolation. The silence of the snow. Snow somehow absorbs sound, it seems. I can remember how freshly fallen snow has offered a special type of solitude from my earliest of days. After a strong storm when I was a kid, I'd play outside for hours. Sometimes I'd simply sit and watch the clouds pass by while lying in that pillow of white. I never needed any friends to help me do this. It was a lonely sport. An experience I wouldn't trade for anything.
I never bought that snowmobile. I did, however, purchase a trailer to store it in. Right before we moved from Palm Coast to Maine, I bought the nicest trailer I thought I could get my hands on. It was a 7'x14' Arising Industries enclosed trailer. It had two axles to handle some decent weight and it was long enough for even the largest cross country sled. My idea was to buy the trailer, use it to haul Laura's and my belongings to Maine, and then have it sit in my driveway until I bought the snowmobile. I'd store the snowmobile in the trailer and during each and every snowfall, I'd rush outside to pull the sled from it and then ride around until I couldn't anymore. I had dreams of Laura holding on tight behind me as I gathered speed. The flakes would be pelting our helmets and we'd live life the way I had envisioned. To me, snowmobiling is best at night and just the idea of riding the miles and miles of trails Maine has to offer gave me the motivation to buy the trailer and sell the house I had purchased in Florida.
I already told you I never bought that snowmobile. Why? I'm not sure. It was certainly possible. Maine is full of them. Used, new, and everything in between. Something strange occurred between the time we lived in Florida and just after we moved to Maine. It appears that I suffered from heat exhaustion while living in Florida which led to dreams of frigid temperatures and a chilly atmosphere. But after we arrived up north, those temperatures and the atmosphere became normalized. The thrill of riding began to dissipate and the desire to buy, store, and maintain an expensive piece of machinery somewhat disappeared. I'd watch as others would do what I had once dreamt of and after a while, I didn't salivate nearly as much at the idea of doing the same. Which is strange to say because while I was growing up, I would have given my left arm to own a snowmobile. The same is true for owning almost any type of machinery like that. The lust was strong back then.
That's the story of the trailer. I'll tell you the story of the ATV next. But first, please take a look at some trailer photos.
During the summer of 2019, I succumbed to the temptation of owning a piece of machinery. Again, I dreamt of what I had done as a kid and I wanted nothing more than to ride an ATV through the many trails nature had to offer. The only difference between my childhood days and the days of 2019 was that the modern days offered an activity that was legal (and somewhat encouraged), as opposed to one where I'd be chased around by the police as I was when I was a child. My hometown in New York, let's just say, wasn't very hospitable to dirt bikes and ATVs. I lived in a neighborhood, not a large field or tract of land. Just the mere sound of a bike being started made the neighbors cringe. A moment or two after the cringe, the telephone dialing would begin and a moment or two after that, the sheriff would appear, cruising up and down each nearby road. Creeping along in search of the violating motor vehicle. One that held no registration and was nowhere near road worthy.
Maine is different than New York. Maine offers an extensive network of trails and actually derives revenue from ATV registrations. People like ATVs in Maine. They're almost as popular as cars and trucks. Because of this, I went ahead and bought a beautiful one. One I thought Laura and I would ride on a weekly basis. Here are a few photos of the machine.
I suppose I had matured a bit too much during my lifetime or perhaps my tastes simply changed. Whatever it was, I didn't find myself wanting to ride this ATV around nearly as much as I thought I would want to. Sure, Laura and I found ourselves on a few excursions, but more often than not, I'd use the quad to haul firewood from the forest to the house. And after a few years of owning this machine, I used it not at all. It sat inside the trailer. I ultimately needed neither.
A few weeks ago, I decided to try hauling some firewood from the forest to the house using a wheelbarrow. I found that I had no trouble doing this, even though the trip is approximately an eighth of a mile long. I also found that I enjoyed the process and if I did the hauling bit by bit, meaning one wheelbarrow per day, I'd actually complete the job in its entirely in about a month. It was then I decided to sell the ATV. I walked inside and listed it on Craigslist and after a few hours, arranged for a gentleman who lived about an hour away to come and look it over. He did and he took it with him when he left. A day after that, after circling the empty trailer I no longer needed, I advertised that I Craigslist as well. The same thing happened. A man came to look at it and he also took what I had advertised with him when he left. Only this time, the man travelled approximately three and a half hours from New Hampshire. He really wanted the trailer.
So here I sit with neither an ATV or a trailer. I must admit there's an emptiness to it all. It's not so much the emptiness of looking at the wide open driveway that was once cluttered with the large enclosed trailer, but moreso the emptiness of the realization that I have moved on from toys like this. These things once defined me as a person; who I was. For that sort of definition to no longer exist actually gives me pause. It forces me to ask myself what does define me because up to this point, I've been focusing on what doesn't. I do have ideas though. Plans. Things I'd like to do and a way I'd like to live. For those things to be fleshed out, I'll need to write more posts and those posts are partly behind the rationale of this website revamp. If you are new to this blog, you won't see any difference, but if you've been visiting for a while, you've surely noticed a change. Things have been cleaned up and organized.
I wrote this post for myself. I'd like to look back at what once was and I'd like to read a reminder in the days ahead of why I did what I did. Believe it or not, moving on from my "motoring" self, the self I was for so many years, is a big step for me. I just thought I'd jot down a few notes from the era. I hope you enjoyed the stories.
When Laura and I were living in Florida for those six months in 2013, I thought of nothing other than someday buying a snowmobile to carry me across the beautiful winter landscape of Maine. I could picture myself climbing steep hills to see what types of views the mountaintops would offer and I pictured myself negotiating the forest trails down below. As long as I was lost in deep fluffy snow, I'd be happy. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of traversing a pine forest a calm and sunny morning after a blizzard, I can tell you it's like nothing else. The peace and isolation. The silence of the snow. Snow somehow absorbs sound, it seems. I can remember how freshly fallen snow has offered a special type of solitude from my earliest of days. After a strong storm when I was a kid, I'd play outside for hours. Sometimes I'd simply sit and watch the clouds pass by while lying in that pillow of white. I never needed any friends to help me do this. It was a lonely sport. An experience I wouldn't trade for anything.
I never bought that snowmobile. I did, however, purchase a trailer to store it in. Right before we moved from Palm Coast to Maine, I bought the nicest trailer I thought I could get my hands on. It was a 7'x14' Arising Industries enclosed trailer. It had two axles to handle some decent weight and it was long enough for even the largest cross country sled. My idea was to buy the trailer, use it to haul Laura's and my belongings to Maine, and then have it sit in my driveway until I bought the snowmobile. I'd store the snowmobile in the trailer and during each and every snowfall, I'd rush outside to pull the sled from it and then ride around until I couldn't anymore. I had dreams of Laura holding on tight behind me as I gathered speed. The flakes would be pelting our helmets and we'd live life the way I had envisioned. To me, snowmobiling is best at night and just the idea of riding the miles and miles of trails Maine has to offer gave me the motivation to buy the trailer and sell the house I had purchased in Florida.
I already told you I never bought that snowmobile. Why? I'm not sure. It was certainly possible. Maine is full of them. Used, new, and everything in between. Something strange occurred between the time we lived in Florida and just after we moved to Maine. It appears that I suffered from heat exhaustion while living in Florida which led to dreams of frigid temperatures and a chilly atmosphere. But after we arrived up north, those temperatures and the atmosphere became normalized. The thrill of riding began to dissipate and the desire to buy, store, and maintain an expensive piece of machinery somewhat disappeared. I'd watch as others would do what I had once dreamt of and after a while, I didn't salivate nearly as much at the idea of doing the same. Which is strange to say because while I was growing up, I would have given my left arm to own a snowmobile. The same is true for owning almost any type of machinery like that. The lust was strong back then.
That's the story of the trailer. I'll tell you the story of the ATV next. But first, please take a look at some trailer photos.
During the summer of 2019, I succumbed to the temptation of owning a piece of machinery. Again, I dreamt of what I had done as a kid and I wanted nothing more than to ride an ATV through the many trails nature had to offer. The only difference between my childhood days and the days of 2019 was that the modern days offered an activity that was legal (and somewhat encouraged), as opposed to one where I'd be chased around by the police as I was when I was a child. My hometown in New York, let's just say, wasn't very hospitable to dirt bikes and ATVs. I lived in a neighborhood, not a large field or tract of land. Just the mere sound of a bike being started made the neighbors cringe. A moment or two after the cringe, the telephone dialing would begin and a moment or two after that, the sheriff would appear, cruising up and down each nearby road. Creeping along in search of the violating motor vehicle. One that held no registration and was nowhere near road worthy.
Maine is different than New York. Maine offers an extensive network of trails and actually derives revenue from ATV registrations. People like ATVs in Maine. They're almost as popular as cars and trucks. Because of this, I went ahead and bought a beautiful one. One I thought Laura and I would ride on a weekly basis. Here are a few photos of the machine.
I suppose I had matured a bit too much during my lifetime or perhaps my tastes simply changed. Whatever it was, I didn't find myself wanting to ride this ATV around nearly as much as I thought I would want to. Sure, Laura and I found ourselves on a few excursions, but more often than not, I'd use the quad to haul firewood from the forest to the house. And after a few years of owning this machine, I used it not at all. It sat inside the trailer. I ultimately needed neither.
A few weeks ago, I decided to try hauling some firewood from the forest to the house using a wheelbarrow. I found that I had no trouble doing this, even though the trip is approximately an eighth of a mile long. I also found that I enjoyed the process and if I did the hauling bit by bit, meaning one wheelbarrow per day, I'd actually complete the job in its entirely in about a month. It was then I decided to sell the ATV. I walked inside and listed it on Craigslist and after a few hours, arranged for a gentleman who lived about an hour away to come and look it over. He did and he took it with him when he left. A day after that, after circling the empty trailer I no longer needed, I advertised that I Craigslist as well. The same thing happened. A man came to look at it and he also took what I had advertised with him when he left. Only this time, the man travelled approximately three and a half hours from New Hampshire. He really wanted the trailer.
So here I sit with neither an ATV or a trailer. I must admit there's an emptiness to it all. It's not so much the emptiness of looking at the wide open driveway that was once cluttered with the large enclosed trailer, but moreso the emptiness of the realization that I have moved on from toys like this. These things once defined me as a person; who I was. For that sort of definition to no longer exist actually gives me pause. It forces me to ask myself what does define me because up to this point, I've been focusing on what doesn't. I do have ideas though. Plans. Things I'd like to do and a way I'd like to live. For those things to be fleshed out, I'll need to write more posts and those posts are partly behind the rationale of this website revamp. If you are new to this blog, you won't see any difference, but if you've been visiting for a while, you've surely noticed a change. Things have been cleaned up and organized.
I wrote this post for myself. I'd like to look back at what once was and I'd like to read a reminder in the days ahead of why I did what I did. Believe it or not, moving on from my "motoring" self, the self I was for so many years, is a big step for me. I just thought I'd jot down a few notes from the era. I hope you enjoyed the stories.