I'm going to hang on a limb here and say that you don't really give a good goddamn about living unless you can see the beauty in feeling the beauty of riding a motorcyle at 65mph over the rusted out green bridge that takes you over the sandbanked Wisonsin River, into Iowa County, Wisconsin, while Neil Young's "Everybody Knows This is Nowhere" plays on your ear buds.
Beyond that, two highlights of our 3 days of inter-generational boy biking were as follows:
1. On the ride up, seeing a turtle that was as big as a medium pizza on the road's center line. Later, there was debate about whether it was alive or dead. Someone claimed to see a stream of blood coming from its mouth, but its shell wasn't cracked and it was face up, so I'd imagine that it was just out for a hike. Marsh-jumping, let's say.
2. A heavily bearded Amish man was walking up the wrong side of the highway, so he was walking against traffic, toward me. As I passed, he flashed me one of these:
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