After I entered this challenge back in November, I started contemplating how to prepare my mind for the role of a warrior, since this is basically the theme of the ride. One way was to physically change my appearance that would remind me everyday what I am going to put myself through. A committment to what I started, if you will. Like an actor prepares for a movie role, I would become what others perceive Harley riders to be. A biker image, a gypsy traveller or a rogue degenerate, outcast from society. I would in a sense, shapeshift into a road warrior. I could expand on my appearance with "facial hair" and give the impression I don't fit in with the norm. It seems to be working by the way.
This was the easiest solution. It would not only remind me when I looked in the mirror each morning, but also give me some protection against the wind and cold air I can expect to go through at higher altitudes in Canada and Alaska. Since I have always had a beard for the last 20 years, it was an easy decision to stop trimming and start growing. And grow it did. And whiter it turned. And sneers and jeers came. Funny how you can look back in history books and find some era's where most men wore beards and top hats. Abe Lincoln looked pretty cool. Santa Clause made white look right. ZZ top have the ultimate beards of all. Captain Jack Sparrow put beads and braids in his.
So it was only after a few months of light beard trimming and smaller strokes of shaving habits that morphing took over one day and I stopped picking up the razor. I had finally taken on the role of letting my personal appearance go against the most basic hygiene rituals. My mind was in the place I needed to be. I was becoming..... a "Lone Wolf Warrior". There was no turning back now. It soon became obvious everywhere I went, I was not fitting in. I don't mind though. Growing a beard out does have it's advantages. It's a protective barrier from wind and sunburn on the face. I can store certain types of food and nuts through the harsh winters in it. If I spill some soup from my mouth, it doesn't get on my shirt, but instead my beard catches it. No more Mr. Dottie! Even better. If I can't find a napkin nearby, I just lift my beard up to gently wipe my mouth and still look like I'm using the best etiquette technique.
Now, along with this change in apperance to prepare myself, comes the name game, or "guess who you look like"? So, for all my friends and coworkers, I have compiled a list of "look-alikes" that may help you decide the next time you see me, so you don't struggle with the lapses in memory that are on the tip of tongues or the incorrect verbage to describe what I am. To help you find the name that comes closest, I even put some pictures up that I have been told best describes my hairy situation. My bearded friends.
Thanks to all my friends and family for your support.
