Free AI web copilot to create summaries, insights and extended knowledge, download it at here

Abstract

ill up, but my blog is no longer there.Self-publishing has changed a lot since that time. No other writers were doing what I was doing then, and the novelty of it worked in my favor. Nowadays, we rely far more on the internet and now everybody’s doing it.Anyway, it seems fitting as adventures in self-publishing continue to resurrect those stories from that time.This ode is the first piece I wrote when my beloved Beast was compromised at the very beginning of this trip. Yippee!Ode to the Brown Beast King of Resilience (At least, I hope so)Cursed be the blockhead that twisted the oil cap too lightly,The Brown Beast lost precious blood on the first run of his long journey.Clanking its death rattle into Tok, Alaska, the rider of the Brown Beast was alarmed to receive the news from a twelve year old with braces that the Brown Beast would be lucky to make it to Anchorage…The Brown Beast would need bypass surgery, if not a transplant…“It’s got an old heart, and old hearts get tired,” said the shaman grandfather of th

Options

e boy.The boy offered to buy the Brown Beast, if the rider cared to sell… No, the rider most certainly did not. Fear not!The Brown Beast rattled and rolled its way out of Tok,determined to make its way to the City of Muck.The death rattles wound down to an occasional clank on slowing to a walk and stop, and the rider was reassured. Sort of.The Brown Beast made its way to the city, coming to life when called upon to do its duty.But the need for a doctor is imminent, if not immediate…Will the Brown Beast ride again, valiantly to the end of the road, holding out for the Carnival?Or is it a terminal case?Either way it sucks that my emergency fund is needed, oh… immediately.At least I had a place to crash… Peace, MontgomeryOriginally published at <a href="https://www.freeflyingpress.com/blog/on-the-road-1">https://www.freeflyingpress.com</a> on July 9, 2018.</article></body>

Ode to the Beast, King of Resilience — At Least I Hope So.

On the Road #1 of a DIY booktour/Roadtrip I did in Alaska and the West Coast from July 2005–2006

In 2005, I was extremely blessed to receive a grant from the Rasmussen Foundation in Anchorage, Alaska. I used the money to self-publish a collection of original fairy tales and hit the road.

I told stories and selling a book out of the back of an old 1985 Toyota 4- runner, which couldn’t go any faster than 60 mph, and which I named the Brown Beast before I left, and eventually just the Beast as the road trip went on.

I loved the rig and it broke my heart when it finally went bust. This was after the road trip was over.

I was on the road for a year. It was one of the greatest adventures of my life.

I kept an email journal that I sent out to my friends. Eventually my email journal became my first blog, due to one of my friends being into my journal, who was also involved with Juneaumusic.com. The site is still up, but my blog is no longer there.

Self-publishing has changed a lot since that time. No other writers were doing what I was doing then, and the novelty of it worked in my favor. Nowadays, we rely far more on the internet and now everybody’s doing it.

Anyway, it seems fitting as adventures in self-publishing continue to resurrect those stories from that time.

This ode is the first piece I wrote when my beloved Beast was compromised at the very beginning of this trip. Yippee!

Ode to the Brown Beast King of Resilience (At least, I hope so)

Cursed be the blockhead that twisted the oil cap too lightly,

The Brown Beast lost precious blood on the first run of his long journey.

Clanking its death rattle into Tok, Alaska, the rider of the Brown Beast was alarmed to receive the news from a twelve year old with braces that the Brown Beast would be lucky to make it to Anchorage…

The Brown Beast would need bypass surgery, if not a transplant…

“It’s got an old heart, and old hearts get tired,” said the shaman grandfather of the boy.

The boy offered to buy the Brown Beast, if the rider cared to sell… No, the rider most certainly did not. Fear not!

The Brown Beast rattled and rolled its way out of Tok,

determined to make its way to the City of Muck.

The death rattles wound down to an occasional clank on slowing to a walk and stop, and the rider was reassured. Sort of.

The Brown Beast made its way to the city, coming to life when called upon to do its duty.

But the need for a doctor is imminent, if not immediate…

Will the Brown Beast ride again, valiantly to the end of the road, holding out for the Carnival?

Or is it a terminal case?

Either way it sucks that my emergency fund is needed, oh… immediately.

At least I had a place to crash… Peace, Montgomery

Originally published at https://www.freeflyingpress.com on July 9, 2018.