Why take a trip like this anyways?

Why would I want to spend weeks at a time riding thousands of miles, eating, bathing and sleeping irregularly, ultimately heading to no specific destination? Surely we must be crazy,no? We will undoubtedly spend time in the saddle cold, wet, hungry, tired, sore, disgusted, and discouraged. Rain will be a frequent companion. The bugs will be a pain in the ass at times. Mud and shitty roads will be an issue. Mechanical failures will happen, usually in a remote location in foul weather and lacking the correct parts. Fatigue will visit us when we are least likely to be able to deal with it. All these reasons and many others should be enough to discourage such an adventure. But quite the opposite is true. It is these reasons that make me WANT to do this. For some reason, some of us get off on such challenges. What makes me enjoy an adventure like this and disdain a week at a posh hotel in Acapulco? I do not know why. Genetic defect perhaps? The feeling of accomplishment may be one reason. Responsiblity for the success or failure of the trip is almost entirely ours and ours alone. Situations will come up that will need our attention right now. Deal with it. Solve the problem. Get back on the road. Fix the flat tire. Scrounge some gas to make it to the next town. Sleep on the side of the road in the rain in the middle of nowhere. Zip tie and duct tape the bike back together, and Pray it will hold till the next stop. These are the things that will make it an adventure. Shit happens, and thank GOd it does. All of these hard and difficult times will be balanced with an incredible sense of power, of controlling our direction, speed, and distance travelled each day. No real itinerary. No real destination. No pressure to do anything but ride. And along the way, we get to see, feel, hear, smell and even taste some of the most beautiful scenery on this continent. Wildlife will be abundant. Mother Nature will be presenting us with the best she has to offer. We will also meet many different types of people. We will meet other bikers on similar journeys on similar bikes. Within minutes of meeting, we will speak as if we are old friends, because in a sense we are. We will share stories with them of the road, of life, of family, of loss and love, maybe over a cold beer or two, maybe alongside a muddy road while repairing a busted up bike. We will also meet locals, who will tell us of things to see and do, things to avoid, and almost always will offer up an unsolicited tidbit of knowledge that cannot be found in any tourist pamphlet. Some will share food, shelter, gas, and maybe their most precious commodity, their time to just bullshit with two strange dudes from Arizona for a while. These are the things that define motorcycle touring. And the reason I feel the need to go. Why does Ben want to do such a trip? He has never done a long distance motorcyle trip like this. Maybe he already knows what is in store for us and will also thrive on it. Or maybe he is just an idiot.