Today I woke slow from some bad dreams about heartbreak and immorality - both my own - and the nostalgic call of a freight train's horn and rumble. It all left me in the quiet darkness of a motel room, 3700 km from my children, thinking of Philip and the farm. And loneliness sunk in fast. I made a perfect camp stove coffee and thought about the day. Wondered if I'd run into people. Then I stopped thinking about that. I started packing, then told myself to slow down, I mean out loud. Got my shades and headed to my bike, bb, in search of breakfast. I did run into people, all friendly, all someone's friend. I thought of my friends. Sent some pictures to a couple old ones from back home and told them that I looked forward to seeing them soon again. I always wonder if the can feel my loneliness. Yes, most likely. But we all operate above the surface. We're fucked that way, until we come apart and then no one really knows what to do. So we hold it together. I had what was recommended as the best breakfast in town, and was told that I wouldn't be disappointed. I kind of was, but kept it to myself. Big tip to feign as though she was right. Then back on my bike and headed to find provisions. I always worry that I won't have enough food when I am going into the bush (desert here) yet I never buy enough, and so often worry about running out and stress about rationing. It was the same way with booze. Strange. Something deeper in there, but I am too tired for analysis. I rode out of town, opting for the road that would 'require high clearance 4 wheel drive'. I knew I was testing my limits, but that's kind of why I am here. The road, pinto canyon, turned out to be perfect. Hardest off road riding I have eve done, and I dumped the bike once. But it gave me the sense of what is possible with bb, and left me feeling proud that I did it. Caught some air once or twice, and started to learn how to power through turns sliding the rear. Such a great feeling. The actual area and the ride was the most beautiful place I have ever seen. Too much to describe. Just absolutely stunning ancient and rugged isolation. Mountains ranges surrounding. I finally arrive, on the border with Mexico, in the chihuahua desert, to the chinati hot springs. Greeted by a friendly and straightforward woman who showed me to my lodging, and pointed to the cold and hot tubs. I asked about trails. She gave me directions. I ran in the hot hot hot desert heat up a hill ridge through rattlesnake country. I was told later that there been a mountain lion hanging around. I sensed her. It was kind of frightening on the trails as there was no shade whatsoever, and the trails crisscrossed making it easy to lose my bearings. I didn't. I am back. I soaked my sore bones and muscles in the hot tub. Met a couple from Austin on an anniversary. She arranges flowers and he is a chef. They had good tattoos. And blue stripes in all the Texas red. Then I climbed atop a small butte where a freezing cold Springwater pool waited for me to submerge and kickstart my vascular system. I did. It did. Now I am lounging, listening to the breeze and the birds and thinking about my brother and my family - the one I grew up in, and the one I am growing. And finding myself thinking about the notion of radical acceptance - that everything in my past brought me right here, and it's all right. I don't have to figure any shit out. I have to get home safely to my boys and regale then with stories. And smother them with my love.