“Maybe it’s time I make that motorcycle trip I’ve been dreaming about.” I told myself. Along the way, I soaked myself in California’s resplendent landscape while meeting a few of its outlandish residents.

O my friends, what a year it was. 2020 began with a plague known as the coronavirus or COVID-19. The world was rife with fear, uncertainty and doubt. And anger. So much anger. America seemed like a land of contradictions and beliefs in absurd conspiracy theories. It made me excited for a front row seat to the spectacle.

December, a month I usually reserve for a moment of reflection following a year of tireless, relentless pursuit of big goals. 2019 however felt like a year of wandering, soul searching, perhaps even some identity crisis. Many events of the year and micro-decisions towards bigger outcomes led to a need to get away rather than reflect on accomplishments. This was not a holiday get away though. This was a work trip with a few days off peppered in between to take advantage of the company holiday calendar. But for those occasions, I needed to address the travel itch. I targeted a return to Puerto Rico and the American Deep South.