Born pre-Google (PG) and it is a mystery how I, not knowing I was (ASD) Autism 
Spectrum Disorder, survived fairly happy, optimistic, and somewhat whole. All 
those years, the feeling of being an alien enshrouded me, yet I wouldn't give up
trying to fit in. Didn't know anything about it but in the 1980s, when my son was 
diagnosed and then I was, well, I just did what I always did: slipped into denial 
mode.

My first grade teacher told us not to overuse the bathroom pass. He stressed: we’d be doing fun things in first grade, things with turtles and books, and if you were in the bathroom, you’d miss out on everything. I took both rules and books very seriously, so I never once left class to go to the bathroom. I developed chronic UTIs and leaked in my underwear.

I load up my motorcycle on a foggy morning and wind my way through the Sierras and out of California. I cut across Nevada then ride along the Arizona-Utah border. After days passing throughsage bush valleys, sandy deserts, and arid foothills, I rode over the Continental Divide this morning, my fifth day on the road. I arrive at a diner in Saguache, Colorado, a small historic mining town in the San Luis Valley.