I have reached Springfield MO which marks the exact half point in this tour. As I previously eluded too, things have not gone exactly the way I had foreseen. As the support has been overwhelming and the people I've come in contact with have given me hope, confidence and motivation...unfortunately the donations have been seldom and too far between. I've been blaming myself for this and I do take it personally, but I know other things are playing a major role in this misfortune. The economy has sealed up many would be giving wallets, the weather has done everything but cooperate, and some of my destinations have been uncooperative and completely ignored my attempts to raise money and awareness for this great cause.

So all of this has left me at this point to either tuck my tail between my legs and head home which is not all bad because we have raised money and have made a slight foot print. Or I head onward into the unknown and into the most dangerous and unforgiving parts of the country. In my last entry I had 3 options to navigate this decision, but now after much thinking 2 remain. Either I stop and go home and give the money I've raised to a deserving family or I fund the rest of the Patriot Tour on my own.


Tomorrow, I will stand literately on the crossroads. To my right will be everything I've conquered. All states east of the Mississippi river, new friends, new stories, many memories, and golden triumphs among the hardships of the open road. To the north of me will be home. My family and my friends who I miss very much, but most of all the beautiful smile and welcoming arms of my girlfriend. Her love beckons so strong it’s hard to resist at this point. Miss You Baby!! To my left will be the unknown. Dangerous twisty roads, deserts, hungry and poisonous creatures, extreme heat, and the solitude of the open plains; Another month of battling the gripping loneness, risking my finances for the chance at success and the rest of the journey I set out to complete.

As it stands, after a month of this life on the road my physical appearance has changed quite drastically. My hair is long and sticks out the sides of my hat and over my ears. My beard is almost down to my adams apple and comes to a frizzy point. I have lost weight because the food is no good and if my options are fast food or nothing, well, I have chosen nothing on too many occasions. My arms are the color of a warn down penny from the sun I've been fighting for the last week and a half. My feet ache from the boots I've almost walked right through. My eyes are almost always bloodshot and squinted from the dust, wind, and chasing sun. The rocks and bugs have left my knuckles scarred and swollen. Sleep doesn’t come like it used to so I usually have slight bags under my eyes to complement the redness; and from the sun making me squint the crows feet are arching across my face. I'm beaten and battered and the thought of continuing almost hurts.

I have taken on an appearance and a mental state that many write about, some sing about, others fantasize about, but very few will ever realize...I have become Hell On Wheels. The problem is I like it! I am taking a beating, but it's justified by the reason I'm out here. I started something a long time ago and some key people fueled it. Some key events made it a burning reality and I knew in my soul that it was going to happen. Starring down the barrel of launching this, many told me that in light of certain changes I shouldn't go, but I did anyway and I don't regret it. To tuck tail and run home half way through this tour would be a sad mistake. Even though many have told me it wouldn't be a failure, I would live the rest of my life wondering the dreaded "what if." I cannot bare this. I need to know how this journey ends. I have seen it in my dreams, I have seen it through the stories and fascinations of others, I need to live it to feel complete.

For a very long time I have felt something swelling inside me, something that feels like an explosion. It's unsettling and has always kept me searching, but I could never define what I was looking for. I knew it was big and would be life changing when "It" came. I always thought when I figured out what was tugging at my mind and soul, things would become clear as day and the path to its execution revealed like a map. I know now this is not how things happen in life. I have found that to grasp a dream is a hard fought and ever challenging journey, but once started must be completed. This is my journey and it's only just begun; like a new chapter in a book I have opened the beginning of my life. This chapter is the personal side of my effort to rise above a life of just being content. In fact, “content” is the only thing that really scares me and the exploding feeling has and always will be my soul trying to fight free from its entrapment.

I must also complete this tour to save the organization I worked so hard to bring to life. In the legal world it's seen as a real life entity and for me to not go all out would kill it. If that happens we will never be able to accomplish anything for our vets, soldiers, or this country under the banner of a Nation of Patriots. I'm out here for men and women who've suffered through much much more than some scrapes, bruises, sun burns, and loneliness. So as a small tribute to their suffering, their sacrifice and their service to me as a citizen of the greatest county on this planet I move forward and I will not quit them.
 

I preach of a unified confidence at the very foundation of this country's strength. I set out to whiteness it first hand. But, I also needed to see that in the darkest of times there's still those out there that hold the light of Patriotism high above their heads; that the sight of an American flag brings them a confident smile; that the thought of our wounded troops brings out fierce compassion. I have found hundreds of them and I want to find more; I want them to get behind this tour and I want them to represent their towns and cities year after year as we all ride for our honored and our brave...and at the end of the day we will have become "A Nation of Patriots".

I don’t represent any political, fascist, or extremist group. I represent the auto workers, the farmers, the fisherman, the good ‘ol boys, the entrepreneurs, small and big business men/women, the soldiers, the veterans, the fallen, the families, Policemen, Firemen, and everyone else that calls themselves an American. I ask for their collective support as I ride for our wounded, their families, and the confidence of America.

So, bring on the heat and let it rain, I'm drivin to hell and back...it's gonna be a bumpy ride!

I have since left Tallahassee and moved on across Alabama, Mississippi, and into Louisiana. Before leaving Florida though, I couldn’t help swinging just a bit south of Hwy 10 to hit Panama City Beach. Aaahh, the old spring break party grounds.
 

For 3 years straight my good friends from college and I would make the long drive from Winona MN all the way down to this paradise. Once we got there it was an all out booze fest where anything could happen and usually did. Hours and hours of beach volleyball, beach parties, and not having a care in the world spent on the white sugar sands that line the blue gulf coast Night after night turned into early morning and on many occasions the sun rising to find us still going at it. Hotel rooms were trashed, fights always on the brink of exploding, and clubs ripped off! Then just when you thought your body couldn’t handle it one more day it was time to go. Like zombies from a cheap thriller we would peel ourselves off the beds and drag our weary, half drunk bodies and luggage back into the cars to head straight back up the freezing tundra of MN. Seems like an awfully big effort for such a small pay off, but back then it was more than worth it.
 

So I drove down the strip and it literally became a stroll down memory lane as at almost every intersection my brain recalled some crazy scene or event that had unfolded on that very spot so long ago. Our hotels, our bars, our over priced and barley tolerable clubs, beaches, and liquor stores were all still there. As I drove reliving my college spring break days I found it bitter sweet and quite humbling because as I would recall a funny story I realized I had no one to share it with. It was just me and my bike. All of my buddies were back in the Midwest at work and carrying on with everyday life. Panama City Beach seemed to take on a very lonely and desolate appearance even though it was bustling with tourists and mopeds and shoppers. I remembered that I wasn’t here to party, no, I was just passing through. I realized just then how far from home I really was and how long I have been away.

I have been on the road for exactly 4 weeks tomorrow…1 month. 1 month living out of a suitcase, sleeping in the woods, eating crappy food, and my only company has been strangers in passing. I’ve slept in countless motels that no matter where I am in any state are always the same. The only thing that changes is the room number; other than that its one bed, one bathroom, one table, one clock, one tv, one remote, one sink, one night. They are my home after riding all day.

Life on the road is hard and dangerous, but when I look back at what I’ve accomplished and been through thus far it makes me feel good. I’ve done something that not many can say they’ve done and that fact is motivating in itself. By completing all 48 in one fellow swoop I will be part of very small group of people in the entire world and in history that can claim the same.

But, a crossroads is coming and I believe has been coming my entire life. Springfield Missouri will mark almost the exact half way point in The Patriot Tour. It will also be the closest I’ve been to home in over 1 month. It also means that everything I’ve just been through…I have to do again. And although I’ve been out doing my best to raise money for a cause I’m fiercely passionate about and meeting some excellent contacts, I fear the tour is not generating the donations I had planned on. This renders all of my efforts useless in the grand scheme and with sponsorship dollars fading my options are becoming clear.

When I arrive at these crossroads in Missouri I will be faced with 3 options. First is stopping the tour and heading home as to avoid relying on donated money to get me the rest of the way around. Two, continue on, tighten the belt and hoping that something catches and things turn in the cause’s favor. And three, I burn through the rest of the sponsorship dollars and fund the rest of this trip on my own because I alone set out to accomplish this so I alone must carry its financial burden.

These three options run their course through my head every day now…all day. Each one plays out from beginning to end. Each one takes on its own pros and cons which seem to weigh differently depending on my mood at the time. Each one has serious risks attached for example - If I don’t complete this tour I will feel like I failed not only myself but also the people for whom I’m riding for. Plus, by ending it early we may not have enough momentum to go again next year and this whole non profit - a perfectly legal and fully function tax exempt entity (and all the work that it took to form) will be useless. If I push it with the organization’s funds I risk coming home with nothing and that is certainly not a good for the organization or the cause. And finally, if I fund it myself I risk coming home with very little money and will be forced to take on the first job that comes my way to pay the bills. These risks torture me all day, but in the back of my mind I pit them against the chance at success; and success will mute all risk.

I have not made up my mind yet. There are still a few things that lie in wait in the next couple of days that may shed light on the correct choice. Wednesday is my personal D day…Decision day. This is when I will be standing at the crossroads of the rest of my existence The decision I make here will forever change the course of my life. I seek advice, but I think I know the answers that I’ll receive…only I can make this decision. A little insight from outside might not hurt though!!

Until then I’m still in what they call the “Dirty South.” And it’s still blistering hot which is funny because everyone keeps telling me that it’s “Unseasonably” hot. The reason that’s funny to me is because after leaving Milwaukee in the beginning it was “Unseasonably” cold then it was “Unseasonably rainy then “Unseasonably” windy. It’s also unseasonably “Recessiony” out there too!!! The next thing I’ll hear is about the Unseasonable snow that’s accumulating in the Rocky Mountains as I navigate them on 2 wheels!!

At times it does seem like I’m up against the rage of mother nature or being challenged by some superior force, or even chased by the devil himself, but I can take it. A friend in Jacksonville told me “When it seems the universe is trying to stop you…your on the right course to success.” I only pray she’s right.