Overland Expo 2014, Part Two


I might have stayed up late Thursday night. Friday morning broke with sunshine and the promise of warmth, though there was a lingering chill in the shady spots. 8am and most people gathered at the Motorcycle Arena to listen to the official start/opening remarks. That was over by about 820, and I went to my Author Table.

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This was my first time having a table to sell things, and compared to the expansive displays the others had my rookiness was showing.

A lot of people were walking through, but I wasn’t able to linger since my first class was at 9am – which I had thought was going to be the second session forgetting that everything started at 9 on Friday. It was only a short distance from my table, and since it was on packing I had Curiosity with.

I am always, always amazing when people come to hear what I have to say. I understand on a certain level, that is why I am there and why they are there. I am slowly coming to recognize I have a certain expertise which is actually sought after. And I am incredibly flattered (and slightly embarrassed) by the people who compliment me on my presentations and make a point of coming to my other ones (even when they didn’t apply, since my last packing class had a large proportion of 4 wheeler people in it).

But, I’m just gonna assume you aren’t here to listen to my wax on about classes. The Expo itself had all the usual amazing and bizarre stuff.

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The new Power Wagon was being introduced at this years Expo. Personally, I liked the old one.

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Tons of roof tents, because adventure. Actually, I have to admit they are pretty cool, but I can’t convince myself they’re worth the money (which is a lot).

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I feel a little bad about sharing this one so late, but the Tiny Bikes Big Change people where there. Now the ride is over, it was just a week or so after the Expo, but it was for a good cause and full of, well, adventures. If breakdowns are adventure. They probably are.

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Group rides on Urals are not the same as group rides on other motorcycles. Yes, Ural was there, and yes you could go on rides with them. This was not one of those rides, though I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to get onto that motorcycle.

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Cool, but I think one of those tires would buy everything I own.

The weekend flew by, as it usually does. There were parties in the evenings, talks with friends, classes to teach and sit in on. I didn’t get to see as many as I have in years past, since I was trying to sell things (which I did, thanks again by the way).

Sunday morning was the exhibitor breakfast, and since Saturday night had been a late one it was nice to walk around and see what people were cooking. There were a lot of kitchen/cooking exhibits, and they tended to have the best stuff.

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The Adventure Trio had bacon, so naturally that was my last stop – to make sure I was full.

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Sunday was an odd day. I had only a few books left to sell, but there was a large exodus of people in the morning. Some of the food trucks had run out of food, which wasn’t a problem since I had barely touched the stuff I had brought with.

I had only a few books left, so I took some time off and sat in on some presentations. I like to hear about other people’s travels and the things they learned (about themselves or travel, doesn’t matter). Two people can travel together and come away with completely different experiences, even when they were every where together.

Monday morning, it was all over. The grounds, which had been so full Saturday seemed deserted. I hid in my hammock, not wanting to get up and have it all end, while eager to get back on the road again and see more things. Before getting up I wrote and posted this on my Facebook Page –

“Packing up, moving on. Saying goodbye to friends who are practically family. Knowing, buried deep in the backs of our minds, that the world is an imperfect place, and promises, no matter how earnest, can’t always be kept. Leaving

But moving, to see something new or revisit somewhere special. Each day to find joy in not knowing what or where the day will bring. TO move, a little or a lot, to move is a wonder so many people fail to fully appreciate or enjoy.

Leaving always has a pang, a tug which is neither sought or enjoyed. But leaving is a small price for the joy of moving.”

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