Free U.S. shipping on non-custom orders $75+ 

Logo for GoRUFFLY Around the World "Postcards from the Road"
Smiling woman and her white dog in a pink decorative frame

How We Remember What Matters

Decorative pink underline
Stack of travel postcards of a dog riding on the back of a woman's motorcycle

We don’t hold onto many things of sentimental value.

Only a handful of childhood mementos rest in a pair of dust-covered, cardboard file boxes taped shut in a closet beside the leg irons we wore tongue-in-cheek during our wedding ceremony.

Maybe this minimalism reflects the influence of traveling by motorcycle or, more probably, it’s a trait that evolved to improve survival during these nomadic years.

But the irony of minimalism is that having fewer things sometimes makes you grow not freer but even more attached to them.

And that might easily have become the case for Greg’s keychain had not the gods intervened with perfect comedic timing.

Motorcycle keychain with broken locket and "Born to Chomp" dog ID tag

While traveling the length of the Western U.S. during the Indian summer journey called A GoRUFFLY Pilgrimage, our routes diverged when Whimsy became ill.

So soon on the heals of Moxie’s sudden passing, Greg spurred hard towards Los Angeles where our small puppy temporarily resided at my in-laws while I completed the remaining Pilgrimage activity.

Nearing the outer pickets of Los Angeles’s sprawling footprint, Greg pulled out onto a ridge overlooking the highway to make a coffee and zip-up against the fading twilight.

That’s when it happened.

Removing the keys from Tenderfoot’s ignition, the small steel and glass locket that held Moxie’s ashes, which had jostled over long, merciless hours of interstate riding on dual sport tires, opened and spilled its content down the steering column and into the guts of Greg’s motorcycle.

At first reaction, he retrieved the toolkit and began loosening bolts and removing panels, intending to discover the lost half of the locket and rescue its contents.

Then, as full darkness set in, he stopped, exhaled deeply, and considered an alternative meaning.

Moxie wouldn’t have wanted any part of herself bottled up or confined. These small remains not scattered at her birthplace in Guatemala now lived in and on Greg’s motorcycle to travel the rest of the way around the world with him.

The eyelet half of Moxie’s locket still hangs from Greg’s keychain but, through the dust, mud, and rainstorms, no trace of ashes remains.

The steel rim is scratched and the hourglass is cracked and shattered from hard living, hard travel and abuse – just how Moxie would want it.

To keep up with the latest info, discounts, and new releases, sign up for our newsletter in the footer – and don't forget to follow us on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube!

Check Out Other Postcards from the Road