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I noticed something, and I wonder if anyone has similar feelings. I have had some truly difficult adventures. Bad weather, harsh environments, physical suffering, break downs, hunger, thirst, you name it. But here is the crazy thing. Give those trips a few years to rest in the memory and they become the ones I remember best and most fondly. The ones I tell stories about. The ones I relive in my mind. Do adventures age and become better over the years like wine?
 

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I absolutely agree that the more the endurance factor is, the more you will remember it. When I saw the title of your thread I immediately started reminiscing about some of the 500 mile days in the snow/rain, 34 degrees or the breakdowns in God forsaken places and the challenges those rides presented. Most don't need to be embellished. They are truly as 'bad' as remembered. I look back on those times with a smile. I think it's in the human psyche to take pride in conquering adverse situations. Also, I've, almost without fail, met helpful strangers and saw out of the way places I might have otherwise missed. Some of the friendships are still strong. Those 'worst trips' are what makes for adventure. I love road trips, no matter what the vehicle, because of the unknown.
 

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It's a human condition thing! I remember vividly the first and only time I stuck a paper clip in a wall outlet as a child! I also remember very well once while riding my Hodaka two stroke and I fouled the plug at 40 MPH and reached down yanking the plug wire off in hopes of clearing it up. I did one of those Benny Hill roll to a stop and fall over deals while the stator just pounded me with thousands of volts.

Yes, memories, even the bad ones get better with age but pain is a wonderful teacher.

GaryL
 

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Whew! Thought you were talking about me and the Mrs.

“The word adventure has gotten overused. For me, when everything goes wrong, that’s when adventure starts” -Yvon Chouinard (founder of Patagonia)
 

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I knew he originally made climbing hardware. I didn't know it was Black Diamond though. Yup, very interesting guy.
 

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It's a human condition thing! I remember vividly the first and only time I stuck a paper clip in a wall outlet as a child! I also remember very well once while riding my Hodaka two stroke and I fouled the plug at 40 MPH and reached down yanking the plug wire off in hopes of clearing it up. I did one of those Benny Hill roll to a stop and fall over deals while the stator just pounded me with thousands of volts.

Yes, memories, even the bad ones get better with age but pain is a wonderful teacher.

GaryL
Did that with a Bobbie Pin at 2 years old....got knocked back about 6 feet under the kitchen table, and despite being just 2, I can still remember that today as clear as it was some 63 years ago....OUCH! Mom said my hand was black for a couple of weeks....:sad6:
 

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I knew he originally made climbing hardware. I didn't know it was Black Diamond though. Yup, very interesting guy.
If I remember correctly, and I may not, he sold BD to his employees.
 

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1960. . . Flat tire on a Harley in southern Michigan in a November freezing rain while taking a "Last Ride" with girlfriend. Day before getting married to another. Was late to rehearsal and dinner. Hard to explain. John
 
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John, that reminds me of a story involving my brother. Also in Michigan, also November, and also freezing rain. We had very foolishly decided to ride our Harleys up from Indiana to visit a friend in the U.P. The weather was bad when we started and just kept getting worse. Somewhere north of the bridge, but far short of Marquette, and I don't remember where exactly we got behind a trooper. He was going pretty much dead around the speed limit and we were dogging it behind him in the ice and spray...truly miserable. All of a sudden my brother just pours on the coal and blasts around the trooper like he was standing still. Heck, I didn't know what to think or do for a minute, but I sure didn't want to ride alone in that garbage so I pulled out and followed. We quickly left the trooper in past and nothing happened. He apparently just didn't care. About a half hour down the road we pulled into a little station for gas. I walked over to my brother and asked what in the heck was he thinking blasting around that trooper like that, we could have easily gotten a pretty hefty ticket. He looked at me and said: "you don't understand, I was so damb cold I wanted him to pull me over so I could get in that car and get warm.' :D
 

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Yeah. That was back in the day when I would stop at small town jails and spend the night in a dry cell. They didn't think it unusual to ask for a cell. John
 

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Those who go because it's there, overcome the challenges when things go wrong, and live to tell about it, become constitutional limitarians in nature, whether they know what constitutional limitarians believe in or not. Those who stand on the sidewalk and talk trash become de facto marxists, whether they know what marxists believe in or not. Why? Because when one has to make decisions upon which rests the matter of life or death one does depends on facts and reason (reality) and not on theory and emotion (fantasy). Conversely, when one only makes decisions upon which rest the matter of which channel is on TV one does depends on theory and emotion (fantasy) and not on facts and reason (reality). And that, children, is why constitutional limitarianism develops great countries and why marxism destroys them.
 
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I lived with my Grandma and step Grandfather my Junior year of high school. Went to visit my Mom one weekend on my RD250. Heading back on Sunday evening it was cold out with a -60* windchill. I rode near 30 miles into the wind at 60 mph. Got off the bike and sat in a tub of cold water that felt scalding hot. My thighs had red lines that looked like the crack pattern in tempered safety glass. Then the blood thawed out. I sure did like riding that bike.

I remember the adventures most of all. Never really had a bad trip.
 
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