QUERY

Okay, do I need to brush up on my reading before the convoy gets underway?
Because, I have to say, before the email exchange that brought me into this conspiracy, the notion of a cross-country motorcycle trip possibly involving me had never entered my little pea brain.
And I also have to confess to some lingering doubts, given the loose talk about camping where bears and mountain lions hang out, and no five-star hotels.
Not that I'm any less tough than you biker guys, of course.
Well, actually, I probably am. But maybe a little smarter, too. Despite the slanderous allegations of endemic dimness among engineering types, you'll notice that the two former diesel-dude snipes will be riding in the cab of the Silverado while you other fellows will be outside picking bugs out of your nostrils.
Just sayin', you know?
Here's the thing, though -- I'm an East Coast guy, born and bred, and I've never really been further west than the Hudson River. Not for any length of time anyway.
And I've lost count of the number of times I've encountered the assertion -- in print or otherwise -- that one cannot possibly understand or appreciate America until one comes to terms with it vastness.
Big land, big ideas.
I want to see it.
I'll be bringing a well-stocked camera bag, a pretty capable videocam and a DVD-burning laptop -- so keep in mind, gentlemen, that there *will* be a record.
Bottom line: I'm truly looking forward to this. And I'm grateful for the invite.