HOLLOW EARTH
EXPLORATION CLUB

Been home 2 weeks now.

Bike still hasn’t arrived.

Somewhere between customs, freight handling, and whatever dark magic international shipping companies practice behind closed warehouse doors, the 11F is apparently still making its way across the Atlantic.

Which leaves me sitting here with entirely too much time to think.

Honestly, that’s probably the bigger problem.

Germany helped more than I realized while I was there.

Between the restoration work, the parts hunt, and dealing with ZM, my head stayed occupied.

Focused.

Soon as I got home though, all that quiet crept back in again.

Shop’s full.

Projects lined up. Customer bikes waiting. Parts stacked everywhere. Deadlines I should probably care more about.

Problem is, none of it’s holding my attention right now.

I’ll start working on something, then catch myself staring off thinking about that damned storage key again.

Truth is, most of the stuff paying the bills around here bores the hell out of me anyway.

Customs. Billet parts. Trailer queens that’ll never see rain.

These are the things I do so I can afford to take on projects like the 11F.

That’s the stuff I actually care about.

Preservation.

History.

Bringing something real back from the edge before it disappears forever.

Couple times now I’ve caught myself just standing there in the middle of the shop turning that key over in my hand without even realizing I picked it up.

Still don’t know why this whole thing’s gotten under my skin the way it has.

Maybe it’s the grandfather connection.

Maybe it’s curiosity.

Maybe I’m just bored enough between projects for my brain to latch onto something stupid.

Wouldn’t be the first time.