Early Spring 2014. The App trail hasn't hit celebrity status yet, and I am in Hot Springs, NC. Is going to rain and rain hard, and the National Forest Campground is closed. So I get the last single star motel room there. I pull the bike (very clean '88 K100RS) up on the sidewalk by my room. (a 20 something helps me with the bike like I am the old man, his girl friend asks "What year is that bike from") Hikers use the motel as clean up and restock after their first weeks on the trail. We're all there because of the rain. I sit out on the porch and am cooking over an alcohol stove hiker style, gives me an in with my neighbors. OK, I am fascinated by what it takes to drop everything and hike. And I am asking questions, and am fascinated with how these folks pull it off. Not just the dirt poor college kids, but two 30 something married couples who sold their houses and put tons of planning into the adventure. Nothing holding them back home. They have their relatives mail prepacked supplies general delivery to trail towns for resupply. Then I catch myself, stage one. I say, hang on, I apologize, you must get these questions from every old guy you come in contact with. One of the wives smiles, says, "yes, but not the details you're asking." I catch myself, stage two. I am almost to the hikers what the old guys with the big camping rigs are at campgrounds to me. Asking questions about adventure, wishing they could take it on. Wishing they could embrace adventure with less... Wishing they would have done something different a few years ago. So one of the hiker kids says "so, whats holding you back man?" Stage three then... being on a bike by yourself opens your world to conversations with people you would not have otherwise, and those conversations, if you let them, will inform and change your life.