The Existential Crisis of a So-called Adventure Blog

I recently posted an adapted re-post of a Facebook conversation with a friend on a hot topic regarding Sexism.  Our conversation was dialectic and productive.  More than that however, it served as a catalyst to understand why this blog even exists.

 I have been struggling with finding inspiration and purpose for this Velocitramp Blog for several years now.

 I can't remember an instance of ever reposting from FB to make up a blog, as a practice.  I have blogged and then re-posted on FB and even Google+ it (in an attempt to draw an audience that might share value in the contents within), but never the other way around.  It had occurred to me after the conversation mentioned that FB could serve as a sort of a testing ground of topics that are relevant to people within my circle...certainly to those who Like or Comment on it.  

I remember in the second year of this blog, a respected elder and mentor-figure in my life at the time, referred to affectionately as the Oz, upon fulfilling a personal request to read its contents, posed the following question to me: 

"Who's your target audience?"

Ever since that moment, the evolution of this Blog had become intertwined with my own purpose and identity with cycling, adventure and creative expression.  It even split in several personalities (multiple blogs); a Motorcycle and Overlanding nerdy blog, an Adventure blog and a Philosophy/Poetry?Spiritual blog.  This was later shattered by the challenging encouragement  of Brendan C. of Siren Bicycles to, "heck! put em all together into one blog!  Let’s read it all!"  ...er something like that.  Even another close friend and blogger, Yumi, encouraged similar sentiments.

Technical difficulties and headaches with the BlogSpot format, tendencies for procrastination, forgetfulness, lack of inspiration and motivation, as well as flat out dis-interest, lead to less and less posting to practically none at all.  And some of my writing of recent times I have kept from sharing in fear that it might be read by people of my past and may potentially invoke sad and negative feelings.  It is not the first time (or the last) fear has stood in the way of inspiration.

Facebook

Towards the end of 2012, I started to get involved with Facebook again in a deliberate effort to stay connected with far away family and friends. In 2013, my local community expanded exponentially and I found myself surrounded by topics and discussions that fulfilled my interest and passions again.  At first a little shy about posting contents that would harass the pages of my network community, eventually I began to make more and more posts and re-posts that were "important enough", after realizing that folks are just going to block what they don't want to read, after observing my own behavior in response to their own Facebook activity.  Luckily, this is something FB has gotten better at facilitating.  I have limited my participation from potentially worthwhile networking and discourse all because I  was concerned about what others were going to think or be affected.  The solution today is to continue the current course of participation while maintaining a balance of not posting "garbage" and keeping to relevant topics and connecting personally.

In regards to this Blog

Perhaps re-posting a version of what proves itself to be of interest in the dynamic social-platform of Facebook, is just sound approach.  Part of my struggle has been a sincere aversion to redundancy in a struggle to find purpose in writing for an undefined audience.  Perhaps I am just tasked with facing the reality that this whole time I have been living under the assumption that I am writing for someone other than my own brain and ego.  This blog is and has been nothing more than a virtual mirror that may at times enjoy the occasional guest.  

And, I guess, that's okay.
Well, actually, that's quite nice! Haha.

Hello to me, O' my virtual-self.
Why, Hi there.

Lol

Ahhhhh. Le sigh.

I just LOL'd my virtual-self.  Or is it the other way around?


What comfort and joy and the satisfaction that the feeling of a great load seemingly dissipate from my shoulders invokes, knowing that I may be the only one who ever reads these words.

So funny that I never knew that I have been writing to myself all these years.

Simply Wow.

The satisfaction I feel right now is like eating cookie dough during a descent in quicksand like terrain with the Women's Pro-Field at the Sea Otter Classic. 

Correlating an Example..?

Though I'm not sure why at the time of this writing, this reminds me, somehow, of a singlespeed mountain bike night-ride with P1L and the crew of AABikes about ten years ago.  Mission Hills was freshly burned and the flora was just starting to grow back.  At the approach of the main switchback climb, I charged ahead and hammered my way to the top and waited. This was what riding my bike was all about: a personal expression through exertional effort.  
Once the rest of the group had all gathered on the ridge line and some beers went round while enjoying the city lights below in the distance (except for me...I stretched while enjoying the view), Andrew and Dan announced that it was time to descend and one by one the riders followed queue down the trail -lights dancing and bouncing their way through the darkness.   I looked in confusion and glanced at the trail that continued in the opposite direction along the ridge line, expecting some sort of one-way loop.  I then said aloud, "You mean, we climbed up that trail just to go down it?"  Dave and Ernie turned to me with shit-eating grins and Ernie replied, "Yeah. haha! What did you climb it for?" and proceeded to shred down.  Dave laughed in amusement and chased immediately after. I watched them all, those dancing lights, listening to the hoots and laughing and giggling.  I couldn't help the smile creeping across the left side of my face as I looked on in wonder.  I remember the experience.  It felt like my brain had encountered a glitch; a momentary “does not compute” error message.  And then something popped!
  I too followed not long after, in many ways experiencing my bike in a way that I hadn’t sense I was a little boy charging down a trail of endless fields to the Park with the Big Swings.   That event, that evening, changed my riding forever.  It was the first time I had become consciously present with the element of "play and fun" since I began riding competitively.
 Today in the early 2014, I am starting to fall in love with my bike again, and I have observed that I won't ride unless the purpose includes fun and joy.  It  has truly been a long process to get to such a point of relationship, and even required a hiatus of nearly five years.  

Will I continue to ride?  
Will I continue to blog?
I guess I will just have to see what inspires.