I'm sitting in the office, thinking. Why the hell do i miss the open fields, endless gravel, vast open spaces, african dust in my mouth? What is this feeling we all can't describe? Is it a mere hormone given off by something in our brain's when we experience something we like? Is it that we have the need to explore because our ancestors used to do it for centuries and its in our blood to do so? Is it the feeling of freedom? (although i actually hate the word freedom, it is stereo-times-million-typical)
Its that constant longing to see whats on the other side of that distant hill. That inner peace when you're flying over sand with you worldly belongings on the back of the bike.
its simple... we are tired of being our boring selves...?
... the further we travel ... the less we take with us... the harsher the terrain... the more available we are for the change that environment and its people forces upon us.
we are however either free to accept the change.... or not free... inside our framed spaces with all our shit in it.