Category Archives: Traveling

Missoula, Montana

Leave a reply

It’s the city I live in now. All my stuff is here, I have an apartment, an address, a roommate, and the start of a community. The bedframe that was lashed to the roof of my car did NOT become airborne. The front left bearing assembly on my car did NOT fall apart. After a little rain in Oregon (surprise surprise), the storm that was chasing me did NOT catch up. The only thing I managed to break was the glass sheet for my work table, but that’s not so bad (it’s already moved 3,000 miles with me…)

20111116-111707.jpg

Well, I have less stuff now, right?

When I came out in October, it was a beautiful late fall- with the trees in full color and a fresh loamy smell in the air. It feels a lot more like winter these days, and the snow on the ground has me excited to get back in my skiboots.

20111116-111720.jpg

Just a few more inches before it's ripe to huck the cliff.

20111116-111731.jpg

Great views coming down the pass into Montana.

I was very pleased to cover both mountain passes (on either side of Idaho) in daylight, and clear conditions. There is much to be thankful for and I am really excited to work on re-making a productive life for myself. More on those plans in the next few days, but for the moment I’m pretty tired.

As a second item- Congress is proposing some very interesting legislation that boils down to censorship of the internet. Read about it, think about it, consider how much you value free access to virtually any piece of information you want. Then consider letting your representative know how you feel, either for or against- these are two pieces of legislation worth paying attention to. Personally, I like being able to read and write whatever I feel like, and suspect you do too…

Does It Matter?

1 Reply

It’s a blunt question.  Does it matter?  It’s also a very useful razor.  When applied to so much of the drama, heartache, and confusion we see in everyday life, I’ve found that asking this question is a surprisingly useful exercise.

I’m scared of how hard it’s going to be to start my own business.  Does it matter?  Being scared will get you nowhere, what matters is your willingness to do the work.

I’ve been moving this week- cleaning up in Portland, setting up in Missoula.  I have an address.  I wrote a rent check.  Some of my stuff that hasn’t seen daylight since March has been unpacked.  I’ve done loads and loads, and loads of laundry.  For all the uncertainty, I still feel this place embracing me, and that feels good- that’s what matters.  Here are a few photos from the move, let’s just say I didn’t pick up anyone from Rideshare…

Leaving Portland on Wednesday, with perfect vis on Mt. Hood

Lots of driving... lots and lots and lots.

Notice how low the back end of the Jetta is- the wheel well compression is visible. Also the lack of a front passenger.

Packed to the gills.

The bike is itching to roll again...

Landing, and stuff explosion.

A Totally Different Picture

1 Reply

As I often do when I have a long way to drive and an empty seat in the car, I offer folks a ride via Craigslist rideshare.  It’s a great way to help me save on gas, help someone else get a cheap ride, and have some company for a long drive.  Most folks I meet work low income jobs, are underemployed, or students, but almost all of them are friendly and reasonable.  Sometimes we talk a lot, sometimes very little- I don’t feel compelled to talk to anyone, but I find that the people who get in my car often come from such totally different circumstance than myself that talking with them helps me really understand the humanity of my world much better.  An artist from Seattle, a brick-layer in Salt Lake City, a line cook in San Francisco.  I’ve given rides to dozens of people at this point, but the drive from Spokane to Portland was unique.

I picked up Reta (not her real name) at a reasonable looking hotel near the highway, and instantly my prejudice kicked off- “crazy person, oh boy.”  She had a guitar, some plastic bags, and an oddly loaded luggage rack/backpack combination, and after loading this in the car I quickly realized she was homeless.  While I steered us back to the highway, the first questions out of her mouth revolved around smoking regulations for various substances and whether or not I could help her find any marijuana in Portland.  I was battling a fierce cold, and had already been driving for 3 hours.  I wasn’t in the mood to play therapist but after a few hours of quiet, the conversation seemed to open up and I found someone with a totally different picture of what life looked like. I dropped her off with the Occupy Portland folks, she gave me the gas money that we agreed on, and I went to stay with friends for the evening.

I’ve spent the past few days frustrated with myself because even after paring down my possessions in March (before putting them in storage), I have too much junk and there is no way most of it is going to fit in the back of my Jetta.  I went to Missoula and made friends on day one.  I have the option of pursuing whatever it is I feel like doing with my life.  I am privileged.  When Reta got in my car, all of her worldly belongings fit easily in one side of the trunk.  She was going to Portland because it was someplace she could get high.  Hope was foreign, friends were uncommon, and life consists of getting by (and getting high) by any means necessary.  Apparently, Reta used to have a family.  She used to do body work and massage.  She used to work in a chiropractic clinic.

It was a sobering and valuable experience.  I may fall flat on my face in moving to Missoula, but even then it’s hard to picture myself in Reta’s shoes.  There is a totally different picture of life out there, and it reminds me to be grateful for an incredible family, friends, opportunity, and education.

Portland #3: Lessons

4 Replies

After an unexpected full week in Montana, I drove back to Portland today.  The time in Missoula was just what I was looking for, and it’s exciting to say: I’ve found housing and a new community that seems to welcome me with open arms.  This time, the trip to Portland isn’t returning to home, but rather to bring my sense of home to Missoula.  Yep, that’s right, I’m moving- now that I’ve published it on the blog, I’m committed.

Typical Missoula sunset. Awesome.

When I decided to come back from South America, I knew I wanted to be in a smaller community.  I want to know my neighbors, live close to the outdoors, and try something different.  I don’t have a job lined up there, and I only have a few months of savings left, but somehow this simply feels like the right thing to do.

Where else can two adults have a perfectly stellar time riding a carousel without anyone raising an eyebrow? (Thanks for Hannah for a fun outing!)

More than just my belongings, I look forward to bringing many important lessons with me from Portland to Missoula.

  • Be discerning about the people you spend your time with- your friends an excellent mirror for your character and direction in life.
  • In business, accountability is all that really matters.  Accountability=integrity=success.
  • Live your life on your terms and no one else’s- you are an adult, and you get to make the call on what that looks like.
  • Success is looking back with no regrets, and knowing the next thing you do will be the best thing yet.

I arrived tonight feeling very under the weather, so this post is shorter than I’d like.  Suffice to say it felt hard and scary to think of moving my stuff out of here, of leaving regular contact with so many wonderful friends behind.  This next step feels like the greatest adventure yet, and that doesn’t come without some discomfort.  I’ll look forward to seeing many people in my next few visits (I’m making two trips PDX<–>MSO), please be in touch if you are here in PDX.  A few photos from the week:

Even better than my beloved New Seasons...

Even Miss Rasa (daughter of my friends Jeremy and Crissie) gets involved with the recycling effort.

Work the Plan

1 Reply

I’m back in Portland for just a few days after a full week in San Jose.  This week has included a lot of working and planning for many things, mostly which reminded me of what my manager used to say- “when the scene changes- you work the plan, don’t let the plan work you.”

I love to work, and helping my brother with his house was no different.  We gardened:

The median strip definitely needs improvement with native plants.

My brother finally makes an appearance on the blog (in an admittedly terrible photo)!

and we mended the fence (that I had built 5 years ago) after the neighbor backed into one of the posts.

Your pressure treated fence posts aren't supposed to look, or wiggle, like this one.

Putting the finishing "touches" on the split... with the sledge (and yes, the pipe and rope come off later).

As always, we ate a lot of great food, shared many great conversations, and generally took it easy while planning my next move.

I came back from Ecuador with a clear sense of my goals, and what I thought might be a clear path to work towards them, but as is often the case, sometimes the plans change.  I had hoped to join a close friend in starting a business together in Alaska which would pursue some of those goals, but upon my return we agreed that the timing wasn’t right, and that the idea should remain for another opportunity later in our lives.  Suddenly, what I thought was a clear path to execute became a lot broader.  The goal remains the same- participate as a leader in a locally oriented business that affects resource consumption towards sustainable levels.  I have a lot of questions to ask, so Thursday afternoon I’m headed to Montana to ask some people who might have more insight on what needs to be done next.  Local renewable energy and local organic food?  Making it happen requires organization, dedication, and business acumen- which happen to be right up my alley.  Down the rabbit hole we go.

Times are a Changin’

Leave a reply

Just a quick note to everyone- there’s lots of change, and lots of adventure in the works. There might even be some change coming up here on the site. Thanks to everyone for all the support- it’s been a relaxed week with my brother and sister-in-law here in San Jose, CA and I’m looking forward to sharing more in this space shortly. Cheers!

20111023-112632.jpg

Sometimes you gotta change things with a sledge hammer.

Flow

Leave a reply

It was 2pm and the jungle was getting steamy. I had already ridden about 100km and climbed a gigantic pass over the Cordillera Occidental mountains, and my legs were worked. After topping the pass, I had entered the jungle and it had rained steadily for 60km. I got to the town of San Juan Villalobos sopping wet, but feeling relatively good after the long downhill. I hadn’t been certain when the day started as to whether or not I would push on to Mocoa (making the day over 165km or 102 miles). I had lunch and checked the weather, and then decided to push for it.

As I climbed the hills outside of town however, something was wrong. I reviewed the factors at hand in my head- I knew there were no hotels on my remaining route, my legs were distinctly worked, it was hot and getting hotter, I didn’t have a full load of water, and I was in likely one of the most dangerous areas of my entire trip. I had decided to push ahead based solely on the fact that it was 2pm and I didn’t feel like I should be done for the day. None of the facts about the situation were good, nothing about the plan was solid and yet I was pushing my bike down the road thinking I would “just do it.”. Then I did something unusual, I turned around and went back to stay in the town.

I learned a few things that day- when nothing about the plan looks good, it’s time to change the plan. Sometimes you just simply know what you need to do. Not with dread, not with anxiety, but sometimes just with an imperative momentum. Many times in my life I have set goals and achieved them. I’ve pushed on, finished things out, done what had to be done. I’m very good at making plans and accomplishing them. In my 27th year, I look forward to learning how to be more flexible. Often we make plans on a conscious level, yet our unconscious mind, perhaps called our soul, also has a path that we must follow.

I woke up yesterday morning and realized that my unconscious path does not continue south. I don’t have the energy, the motivation, the purpose. More importantly, I don’t believe it is what I most want to do, which is why the first three elements are missing. I don’t even particularly feel motivated to explore Quito, a place I have never been before. I’ve had an incredible time here, but my soul requires application, and deep down, I feel that it is time. There are many, many factors that logically contribute to this course of action and that I explain logically and carefully. When I consider them, they all seem ancillary to the underlying momentum that I simply feel.

The feeling I’m talking about is reinforced by a number of more logical facts- pieces of the plan per se, that simply don’t look good. Continuing to travel would undermine my financial ability to pursue other opportunities that are rapidly approaching. The logistical elements of bicycle touring have limited both the cultural experience I’ve had here, and the wilderness experience I’ve had (you can’t ever leave your bike, but you also can’t effectively leave the road). To continue traveling south solo, I need to invest in developing (studying) my spoken Spanish. I could continue to list reasons, but the most important one is that I simply no longer feel like this is the right thing to be doing, and I don’t need any more of a reason than that.

I am excited to execute many of the ideas, act on many of the feelings, and move the direction that I seen open before me over the course of the past 7 months. The details are not complete, but the momentum is clear. The adventure continues despite the change in direction. I have no regrets, I feel no real conflict, but rather a sense of excitement about taking advantage of the flexibility that I have, and the opportunities that are now available to me. More plans will be shared as they become clear. Love to you all.

Go with it.
Flow with it.


“It’s called feeling,
and it leads to KNOWING.
and after that, there is less searching.”
(Andrew Given)

20111014-104652.jpg

The Good Parts

2 Replies

I haven’t been avoiding this post, but recently I’ve gotten a number of very supportive and encouraging emails and it occurs to me that I haven’t shared enough of the small but awesome things that have happened so far on this trip. Happily, this is quite a long post. Surprisingly I’m feeling stellar after a long day in the saddle tackling northern Ecuador. Today had some of everything, and I honestly wasn’t sure I’d make the destination I had targeted, but I did and having exited Colombia it is an appropriate time to share some of the awesome stuff that happened while I’ve been on the road:

20111010-103247.jpg
(Southern Colombia is beautiful…)
-Bicycling is a regular part of rural life here (unlike in the USA) and I’ve seen workers of all sorts making their living getting around long rural distances by bicycle. Like the guy who had to take a full sized machete to work, so he stuck it in the back of his pants and got in the saddle (not the guy who chased me off his land).
-I mentioned Barry and Carol Smith (the retired aussie overlanders that rehydrated me in the desert). We ran into each other at random 400km later in the streets of downtown Pasto, and again on the highway to Ipiales. So fun that they decided not to buy a McMansion and play golf. They are getting out and after it, something to aspire to when I’m old.
-In the desert I met a guy named Jose, a Bogotan bike tourist, and despite the fact he spoke no English (and my spanish was worse then than it is now…), we stopped for a 20 minute conversation. He was riding a nice looking Giant-brand road bike with all his kit in a worn leather backpack and was just coming home from almost 6,000km.
-I mentioned my friend Perly who hosted me in Neiva. We stayed up late sharing favorite music and movies on YouTube, but one of the most insightful moments of the trip was when Perly recommended we watch “the Story of Stuff”. If you haven’t seen it, click the link- if you have, think about watching it with someone who lives in a place who’s resources have already been extracted as described in the video.
-Sitting with the crippled guys in the gigante square eating chips and talking. I mentioned them earlier, but it is still one of my favorite spots and favorite moments so far.

20111010-101820.jpg
(The helmet mirror is totally the hit)
-In the same town as the crippled guys, I rolled in for lunch feeling hot and worked. The restaurant owner made me feel like a celebrity and wanted all the details of my trip. I couldn’t have felt more welcome.
-Although I don’t recommend the experience I am now accustomed to the reason roosters get the traditional rap for waking up the farm. In San Agustin, there were 3 or 4 that made sure everyone was up well in time for work. It’s one of those things that is so annoying it is hilarious, to wake up to the sound of many, many roosters.
-Later that day in San Agustin, I went to my first true South American market experience. I bargained, I people-watched, and drank many cups of Tinto (the local coffee of choice) with the locals.
-I went out to the archeological park in San Agustin to see the many ancient statues there. On my way in a 50-something woman asked if I wanted to buy a guided tour in English. Usually I skip these things, but she dropped her price and my gut said “take it.”. Seven hours later my new friend Miriam and I were discussing organic farming, community awareness, and animals rights. I’m awfully glad she didn’t back down when I blew her off in the first place. It made my day and completely changed my experience of San Agustin.

20111010-101702.jpg
(Miriam, at the headwaters of the Rio Magdelena)
-I woke up yesterday morning and started riding out of Pasto only to be greeted with a steep 10km climb straight out of the city, also known as a smack in the face. Fortunately, approximately half the male population of Pasto was out doing the same ride so I had lots of company. I gutted it out and got to the top of the pass. Predictably there were several spots for breakfast and Luis was particularly impressed with my effort on such a heavy bike (he tried to pick it up out of curiousity). He immediately ordered breakfast for the two of us and in broken bits of both languages we forged a friendship. He is in his 60s but used to be a local champion rider. He was stoked on my trip, and insisted on buying my breakfast. It kicked the day off right. Also interesting to note that Pasto was the first place I’ve seen a prominent fitness culture here- lots of people out running, cycling, and playing field sports. I found it strange not to see this sooner.

20111010-102018.jpg
(Breakfast with Luis, the older guys always know what’s up)
-Later in the same day I was rolling into Ipiales, a gritty border town I had been warned to watch my back in. Just outside the city I saw a gathering of what I learned was the Ipiales Cycling Club. They cheered me as I passed by- I needed to find a decent hotel and suddenly I knew just who to ask. I turned around and rode back to them, and no sooner did I put my foot down than they crowded around with questions, handed me a beer, and started posing for photographs. I walked away with both a hotel recommendation and a Ipiales Cycling Club wind jacket (that doesn’t fit, but that I am supposed to carry all the way to patagonia…).

20111010-102453.jpg
(Amazing lunch for $2.50 in Ipiales, which I really think is quite a fine place)
-and today, when I thought my legs were beat, I got to cross an international border on a bicycle, cycle through some of the most beautiful country yet, and take lots of breaks so I could get to where I needed to be, however unlikely it seemed at first.

20111010-102629.jpg
(Ready for another stellar day, this morning)

20111010-102755.jpg
(Clean roads and big skies on my first day in Ecuador)
So yeah, in case you were wondering, I think I’m finding my groove in this thing. I’m psyched for tomorrow, and all the next best pieces.

Mocoa to Pasto

3 Replies

Unbelievable.
I’m safely in Pasto, but getting here wasn’t what I expected. From every description I had good reason to expect the worst- but my imagination simply fell short of what exactly the second worst highway in South America actually looked like. At the moment my calves feel like jello, I’m having trouble walking, and strangely my forearms can’t hold things very well either. At the moment, I can honestly say i hope i never have to do anything like that again.

20111008-054814.jpg
(So it begins in Mocoa)
Skip backwards to Friday morning:
I had been working for 3 hours and 30 minutes. In the first hour, I climbed 12km of paved road and 2km of dirt road. In the next 2 and 1/2 hours I had covered 12 more kilometers of nightmarish softball sized rocks and broken one pannier in the middle of a pouring rainstorm. Would my rims survive? The other panniers is looking desperate and bent out of shape, I wonder how long it will last (the other was lashed onto the rack with some accessory cord)? My right leg was worked from walking my bike up the portions I couldn’t pedal up in my smallest gear. I was resting in front of a small catholic memorial for one of the 400 people killed on this road so far and the driver looked at me intently. I had already had 3 other offers, he looked at me through the rain and said something that I obviously interpreted as “come on, you’re nuts!”. It was 1030am and I was already giving up, but mostly because I wasn’t sure I would have a bike left to ride if I continued.

20111008-054902.jpg
(Still under my own power getting into the cloud forest)
Thus I met Jesus (“Hay-zoos”, for those not familiar with the Spanish pronunciation of the Christian name). We proceeded to rocket up the rough road in his high clearance truck with my bike in the back, he clearly had plenty of practice driving the difficult road. I got over my alarm when he stopped at a creek and proceeded to fill the radiator and cool the engine with water, but about 4km later (6km after picking me up) he stopped with a puzzled look in his eyes. We got out and looked at the front of the truck, both wheels pointed in towards the Mazda symbol on the radiator grill. Jesus’ driving had broken the steering linkage to the left front wheel. No bueno. It was 1115am.

20111008-054951.jpg
(As we say, este muy bonita)
Some people might not feel the same sense of duty, but when the guy who just picked up your tired, soaked, and broken butt up on the side of the road is suddenly in the rough, I don’t bail. And so things got a bit more adventurous. We tried fixing the linkage a few different ways but ultimately at 1pm Jesus hitched a ride back to Mocoa with the broken part, got it welded and caught a bus back to the truck. As bad as the road is, it is the only link between the Magdalena valley and the Panamerican highway, so it sees an incredible amount and variety of traffic. Jesus got back around 4pm, we installed the part, and got moving around 415pm.
It still took us until 630pm to get to Sibundoy, where Jesus lived and I could get a hostel. Jesus had given me a ride approximately 50km, and I am certain I could not have made Sibundoy last night- I would have been better off trail-running there. I just can’t describe how long and consistently terrible the road was, I honestly cannot conceptualize riding a bicycle all the way up it. I took the ride because I needed it and I knew it.

20111008-055032.jpg
(Broken truck parts in the middle of nowhere)

20111008-055123.jpg
(Higher and higher, thanks to a mostly functional truck)
Sibundoy was a nice town and Jesus had dropped me at a decent, cheap hotel. I was still worked from the morning’s efforts, I had taken my normal full on attitude and given it my hardest for more than 3 straight hours. I ran Chicago marathon in less time than that. My hardest crossfit workouts have never been that long. Despite the lift from Jesus, the physical toll of such a difficult, steep road on a heavy bike had destroyed me in less than a morning. I ate a big meal and slept immediately (at 830pm).
This morning I woke up without an alarm at 530am and got moving. I thought today would be easier, and had no intention of getting a ride. I pedaled out of town around 7 in brilliantly cool, cloudy weather and started climbing again. I had information that I would climb from Sibundoy but hadn’t really pieced together just how much. It’s 65km from Sibundoy to Pasto, and I had thought it would be mostly downhill. I was wrong, and the error had a costly effect on my mental state. Maybe I was still mad about getting a ride, or just though that because I had gotten a ride that it would make today easy. I was wrong.
Leaving town crossed about 5km of gorgeous flat farmland on excellent pavement, then I started climbing. The paved road continued climbing for 20km of the steepest grades I have seen in highway construction. My legs were gassed almost immediately, but I was determined to get to Pasto under my own power. The paved road ended in some short flats and I got excited I might head downhill. Instead the road turned to wet mud and headed up for another 10km of hard climbing. I walked, I swore, I stopped to rest a lot, but I was determined to get the day done on my own power.

20111008-055222.jpg
(Climbing out of the valley this morning)
The climbing did eventually end 35km from Sibundoy, but the dirt road continued down and controlling the bike without skidding out took a lot of effort and control. Shortly after starting down I noticed the balance of the bike change and saw that I had further broken the pannier from the previous day. The full story is that my rear left pannier has been trouble since day 2 of the entire trip- one of the top clips snapped while carting my stuff across Bogota. I replaced the clip with a piece of cord. That worked until Friday, when the other clipped snapped in the middle of a rainstorm. I had lashed used the portion of the clip that remained attached to the bag to lash both points into the rack but now one of the points I had used to lash had just completely ripped off the bag (I doubt the waterproof integrity of said pannier now as well). The last system I’ve got now is semi functional but I can see the wear pattern developing already. Moral of the story- just buy Ortleib panniers only, SunLite clearly isn’t ready for the big time.
I descended another 5km and finally got back to pavement for a bit. 20km outside Pasto I started one more climb. The description I had said 2km of gentle climbing. The reality was another 6km of full on Colombian road grades. I was livid, and it took everything I had left. Fortunately the last 15km into town was all downhill and I rolled in just after noon. I could barely make it across town to find the hostel. Getting the bike up the stairs was the last straw but I’m glad I did.
Im staying at a lovely place in the center of town (The Koala Inn) and was still able to enjoy my last real Colombian city. I found real coffee, a yummy lunch, and as a true treat, a gorgeous slice of carrot cake.

20111008-071722.jpg
(Simply delicious)
I spent some time this afternoon looking for a new pannier (to no avail despite plentiful bike shops), and just got back from a dinner full of street food. In Bogota I was overwhelmed by the city, but getting here (Pasto is not small), I enjoy the bustle. I enjoy making do with my Spanglish. I enjoy wondering at the marketplace, dashing between cars in the street, and making small talk with the older lady sitting with me in the plaza. Maybe I’m really starting to get into this, or maybe I’m just thrilled to be here.
Thanks for following, if all goes
according to plan the next update should be from Ecuador!

Failure

1 Reply

This is the third draft of this post, but I was sitting by myself at lunch and finally realized what I wanted to say.

20111006-032837.jpg
(Sunset my first night in San Agustin)
As I biked into Neiva I wanted to quit. As I biked out of Neiva, I wanted to quit. 200km later, after getting chased by a guy with a machete and sleeping in a ditch (without a tent, in the rain, not actually sleeping), and pedaling another 60km STFU, I wanted to quit. But here I am, I’ve been on the road 650km and eight days. I am now convinced that I can do this. I have no doubts that if I needed to bike to Patagonia, I could do it.

I’ve been honest to admitting my doubts on this blog, but after a conversation with my brother and a close friend in Portland this morning, I realized that my doubts are not about the challenge or logistical problems. I realize that a while back I made a plan and that the plan said “travel abroad, alone, somewhere new, and love it.” When it came time to execute that part of the plan, I never allowed myself to ask the question- “what do I really want to do next?” “Do I have the energy to do what the original plan says?” “If this is the last time I have to be unemployed for a while, is this how I want to spend it?”. Of course, some of these questions cannot be answered without trying, but in the course of action, ignoring these questions aren’t the same as answering them.

I realized too that it is unreasonable to think that traveling here will simply “make me happy,” but that it is more important that traveling here will resonate with my inherent happiness in a new way. If it’s not, then there is nothing that says I must do this. The failure would be in “shoulding” myself (not my own phrase) to do something that isn’t the thing that resonates with me most strongly. I will need to find employment before I run out of money, and the only failure would be to get to that point and look back only to be unsatisfied with how I’ve spent my time (oh I “should” have done this).
What is failure? What is success? I pedaled up this monster hill without stopping but now my knee hurts. Failure or success? As with most things it depends on how you define it, but in the most objective light- so far I’ve covered road miles quickly, learned a lot, and had quality interactions. If I got on a plane to San Francisco tomorrow, it would be unfair to call my time here a failure.

I got to Mocoa yesterday, which is the end of civilized country in southern Colombia. The next two days will likely be some of the hardest riding on the continent if I am to believe what I’m told. 5,000 vertical feet of climbing in about 80km, mostly on dirt roads. Yesterday I got to town early and went for a very relaxed hike along a beautiful river. I noticed that today was the first time I’ve been hiking or swimming since I’ve been here. Today I opted to rest as its pouring rain and if I’m going to climb 5,000ft I want to see the view, so perhaps tomorrow will bring better weather. I’m riding through this place, but I’m not really exploring it- frankly I don’t have the energy. I find familiarity in the intensity of the riding, of fighting the hills, of racing the daylight, but on my hike I asked myself the question: am I having fun yet (does this resonate with my happiness)? And maybe so far it hasn’t.

Am I doing this for the wrong reasons, or is it that I just don’t know what my reasons really are? For now, I suspect I need the patience to see if the right reasons unfold, or if some of those questions about the plan need to get re-visited (and that’s okay!).

20111006-032604.jpg
(Giving it some thought in the rooftop hammock).