I almost hit an Elk at 100 MPH

I went out for a long drive, 8 days later i'm still driving

Fuck this shit - that's what I was thinking last Friday (8 days ago); I'd had enough, one too many soured relationships, one too many promises made but never kept, one too many profit shares pledged but never papered, that I decided to go out for a long drive. Long story long, I was in a meeting in DC around 1 PM and needed to blow off some steam; just how much; well, that's kinda how I ended up on the border with Mexico. As many of you know, I value my freedom to travel at any time; I take both of my passports with me almost everywhere I go, add in a toothbrush and my hiking backpack + laptop, and generally, I can walk out the door and into a new life at about any point. At this moment, when I got in the car, I took a turn west and not east. I ripped it to the Blue Ridge Parkway, did about 200 miles, cleared skyline drive in the snow, dodged dear, and kept on rolling; the steam, if you will, had yet to cool. So there I was, cruising west, out for a little drive, taking a moment to find some peace, when I found myself pulling into Knoxville, TN, a full 500 miles from DC.

I'll be honest: I was surprised; I didn't even have a change of underwear and only one clean sock - pulling into a parking garage 500 miles from DC, I was curious as to where I would end up tomorrow. It seemed like such a waste to drive 500 miles home, mainly because if I drove 500 miles more, I'd be a third of the way across America; this was John math in action. When I woke up in TN the next morning, I texted my old college roommate, Brady, and asked if he was around Memphis, another 500 miles west. He was; I rolled on through, we ate ribs, caught up a bit, and he graciously let me crash on his couch. Brady is also part of the senior management of the Memphis Grizzlies & Hustle. We caught a game, and I was glad to see a friend, sitting courtside on my odyssey, while receiving a much-needed free & CLEAN t-shirt.

Now look, I'm not going to bore you with the details of every sock I acquired at Walmart nor every highway soft shoulder I used as a urinal, but I will tell you this: I covered about 3500 miles in under a week, and tonight, I'm on the border with Mexico, sitting at the end of the earth, looking at the stars. I'm in a unincorporated town you've never heard of, in a county you'll never go to, and a motel nobody in the right mind would frequent. I've spent the last few days calling portfolio CEOs at night, walking them out of crisis after crisis, then going to small bars where sigs can be smoked inside, paying in cash, and turning off my phone. I've met an old man traveling across the world solo, splitting a steak and having some bourbon; the night before, a young man in his 20s chatted about old country music with me for hours and told me about his family's legacy ranching and how his families land slowly was sold off year after year. I've met countless bikers, shared many beers over stories about the road, and sat down next to folks who look to have lived 10 lifetimes, often regaling me with tales of their lives, only for almost all of our conversation to end with some version of, "You'll find yourself; you've decided to; now it's a matter of how your journey will play out."

I met a man who was building a "tire house." When I questioned him, he told me he dug a hole 6 feet under, filled it with tires, and lived there; we talked for at least 1.5 hours. It was only a few moments later that his recently partnered-up girlfriend came over, talking about how the tire house was actually quite impressive and comfortable - now look, you may be from DC, SF, NY, or wherever you found me, but if you're going to take one thing away here, its that I actually like this guy, and he's not so different than you and me. He was genuine, made decisions for himself, and made few compromises; he was not an asshole who refused to compromise, but someone who knew what their values were and prioritized them. Do I want to live in a tire hut 6 feet under in the middle of nowhere on the border with Mexico? Probably not. Did I find someone I deeply respect? Absolutely.

How does one tie paragraphs together when life is non-liner? I will leave you with a quick story: I was on the back end of a 500-mile day, and I was running 30 min late. How can you run late when you have nowhere to go? Sunset - I don't like driving in the dark on rural country roads. Well, I was hustling, trying to get off the roads, flying in this little Audi A3, it’s maybe 10 to 15 years old, when I heard my internal monolog say, "There could be deer out here - watch out." Well, as usual, my internal monologue was wrong. It was an elk. Having touched 112 MPH a few hours before, the 90-something felt slow. I was between 90 and 100 in the pitch black when I got a feeling deep in my soul of what I can only describe as awareness. I was aware that I needed to be present; I stared into the blackness, my body sunk low in the car about 3.5 feet off the ground when an Elk at least 4-5 feet tall appeared in the middle of the road. I did a double take at 93 mph, whipped the car partially onto the shoulder, slammed the brakes to bring me to 60, and made eye contact with the Elk out the drive-side window, not more than 12 inches away. It took me about 90 seconds to realize what had happened; I started coughing, gagging, pulling over the car, and spilling the $18 of beef jerky from my stomach onto the pavement.

Since then, people have called; they want to schedule meetings, network, and get to know each other, and honestly, I've stopped taking most of those calls; there are 2 or 3 people I've made commitments to, and 2 or 3 that I'd be happy to work with in the future, everyone else is friendly enough, but if you aren't building a house out of tires in rural West Texas, this would not be a good week to call, I'm taking some alone time. If you missed me, I'll give you a ring when I arrive in CA in a few weeks, until then, a few more stories from the road might trickle into your inbox or a stray phone call on a 500 miles stretch of road - Love from West Texas - John.