The Road

Every now and again, a song comes along that seems to understand something you’ve been trying to put into words yourself.

For me, The Road by Mike + The Mechanics is one of those songs.

It isn’t that the whole song describes Nix perfectly.

It’s actually just three very simple phrases that caught me:

“Road gets brighter.” “Load gets lighter.” “So far to go.”

Ten words.

That’s it.

But put those ten words alongside what Nix has become — Vanilla, the drones, Torque, the travelling, the photography, the people and all the stories in between — and suddenly they mean rather a lot.

I love this one because it looks forward.

Not backwards.

The road getting brighter suggests there is still something worth travelling towards.

And that feels very Nix.

There is always another road.

Another place.

Another sunrise.

Another flight.

Another trail.

Another photograph that hasn’t been taken yet.

With Vanilla, that might mean heading across Europe with only a rough idea of where I’ll finish that night.

With Torque, it might mean seeing a track disappear between the trees and wondering where it goes.

With a drone, it might mean climbing a couple of hundred feet and suddenly seeing a landscape I thought I knew from a completely different angle.

That curiosity is probably the thing connecting everything on nixdrones.com.

What’s over there?

What’s around that corner?

What does this look like from above?

Maybe that’s what makes the road brighter.

Not knowing exactly what is coming next.

But still wanting to find out.

This one means something different.

Because everybody carries something.

Work.

Responsibilities.

Money.

Arguments.

Mistakes.

People we miss.

Things that didn’t quite work out the way we expected.

Life gradually loads the trailer.

And nobody gets to drive around completely empty.

But I’ve noticed something.

Getting away helps.

Not because problems magically disappear.

They don’t.

But sometimes a road trip, a bike ride, a drone flight, or simply sitting outside Vanilla somewhere unfamiliar can make everything feel a little less heavy.

You get some distance.

Some perspective.

A bit of space.

You remember that whatever is happening at that moment is not the entire world.

There is still a road.

There is still a sky.

There is still another track disappearing into the trees.

Sometimes that is enough to reset things.

The load is still there.

It just feels lighter.

This is probably the line that connects with Nix most of all.

Because Nix isn’t really about what I have done.

It’s about what I have done so far.

Those two words make a massive difference.

I’ve travelled across Europe.

So far.

I’ve driven thousands upon thousands of miles.

So far.

I’ve flown drones in some amazing places.

So far.

I’ve explored on Torque.

So far.

I’ve taken more photographs than I will ever sensibly organise.

Definitely so far.

And that is the exciting bit.

There are still roads I haven’t driven.

Countries I haven’t visited.

Trails I haven’t discovered.

Drone shots I haven’t seen.

People I haven’t met.

Places that mean absolutely nothing to me today but might one day become part of a brilliant memory.

That’s why I don’t see Nix as a scrapbook of the past.

It’s a live story.

It is still happening.

When I first came up with those three words, they were simply a neat way of dividing up the things I enjoy.

But I think they mean more than that now.

SKY

SKY is perspective.

Step back.

Get above everything.

See the bigger picture.

Sometimes things look very different when you stop staring at them from ground level.

ROAD

ROAD is movement.

Keep going.

Keep discovering.

Don’t assume the best part of the journey has already happened.

There is nearly always another bend.

TRAIL

TRAIL is curiosity.

Take the route you don’t know.

Follow the track disappearing between the trees.

Turn left occasionally simply because you’ve never been that way before.

Together, they make up Nix.

Not really a drone site.

Not really a campervan site.

Not really a mountain-bike site.

It’s a site about exploring.

The machine changes.

The reason for going doesn’t.

The other thing I’ve gradually realised is that the best journeys are rarely just about the scenery.

They’re about the people who were there.

You can photograph the most spectacular place in the world and it will always be beautiful.

But put someone you care about into that photograph and suddenly it becomes something else entirely.

It becomes a memory.

You remember what happened before the picture.

What happened afterwards.

What was said.

What made everyone laugh.

You remember the ridiculous detour.

The terrible coffee.

The weather that wasn’t supposed to arrive.

The moment somebody said, “This looks promising,” immediately before discovering that it absolutely wasn’t.

Those are the bits that turn journeys into stories.

That’s why Nix will never just be a catalogue of beautiful landscapes and machinery.

The people belong in the story as well.

They are part of the road.

Those three phrases are incredibly simple.

But together they describe something I recognise.

The road gets brighter.

There are still things ahead worth seeing.

The load gets lighter.

Life becomes easier when you give yourself room to breathe, move and experience something different.

There is still so far to go.

This isn’t the end of the story.

Not remotely.

And maybe that is the whole Nix philosophy in ten words.

Look back occasionally.

Remember where you’ve been.

Keep the photographs.

Tell the stories.

Remember the people.

But then look through the windscreen again.

Because somewhere ahead, the road disappears around another bend.

And I still want to know what’s there.

SKY · ROAD · TRAIL

Road gets brighter. Load gets lighter. So far to go.

That’ll do nicely.

🎵 The Road — Mike + The Mechanics

Listen on Apple Music →