Just What the Doctor Ordered

My affliction began gradually, and in retrospect at an age too young to be considered a mid-life crisis. First came BMX bikes, then mountain bikes, then rock-climbing, then kayaking—really, anything outdoors would do. I had a serious allergy to pavement.
Then, while driving back to college in 1994, I passed the Land Rover dealership in Santa Barbara and spotted a vehicle unlike any other, slowly revolving on a rotating display. Even from my fleeting vantage point on Highway 101, I could tell that it was overbuilt. Boxy in shape, it was not for everyone, but it was for me.
Over the next 13 years I graduated college, secured and quit my first real job, enrolled at medical school, moved to Oregon for my residency program, got married, and bought a house. But my disease was never in remission, only barely under control. I explored remote parts of Oregon from the saddle of a BMW 650GS dual sport bike. I found off-road motorbiking a solitary sport; I could not share it with friends, including my wife, Jessie. Then, in the summer of ’07, while riding the BMW down fire roads in the Mt. Hood National Forest, I passed a soft-top Defender. Inside sat a family, including a dog, whizzing by me with wide grins and waving hands. With visions of that boxy car from ’94 spinning through my mind, my disease resurfaced in a full-blown relapse.
Read on »

Published July 2010 – Topics: 




Join Our Email List