(fyi, a YouTube search of "South America" will bring you mostly soccer vids, but about the 7th one down will bring you a foot-long centipede. I really hope I don't have to include these in my on-the-road diet.)
So aside from adding to my current menu, I also did some very basic research on South America last night and today. I was hoping to get further, but I got really distracted by all the National Geographic vid's on YouTube, mainly involving "something" versus "something", such as the one where they film the same centipede above attacking and eating a tarantula.
Anyway, I kind of expected nature to be the end of me on this trip, seeing as creatures are apparently 20 times the size that they're supposed to be. However, just in case the gods don't decide I need to die by their hands, I certainly don't want man to. And for someone growing up in the burbs in the South, I know very little about the political history down there, other than you're apparently issued a junior pistola on your 7th birthday for the upcoming protest.
And so the cursory to-do list starts like this:
- Language: Become fluent in basic Spanish, and learn as much slang and dialects as possible
- Income: Begin removing myself from my painting business, start automating, subcontracting, and outsourcing as much as possible to turn my income on auto-pilot. I'm also going to have to clean up some debt and put all that on auto-payment as well. Collection companies are that much pissier when they have to make a $20 international call to harass you about your $50 electric bill.
- Health: Get knee, foot, and shoulder past injuries looked at. This might actually be a trip deal-breaker, as I've neglected getting the proper attention for these for several years. I imagine I'll need to get in touch with my holistic side to address some of these ancient injuries.
- Eyesight: So that I can be as independent from glasses or contacts as much as possible, I'll need to begin alternative eyesight-improvement methods, like the See Clearly program. This gets it's own category because my sight is so horrible
- Diet: I've been wanting to go pure raw these days (currently a part-time vegan), and with all the injuries I need to heal, as well as the energy I'll need to train, learn, etc, this seems like the time...
- Exercise: I've really become a poor excuse for a sack of muscles these days. I'll blame it on the business agendas. This should also boost the energy levels. Jesus, I'm gonna have to be one of those guys grunting out their demons at the gym now, huh?
- Education: In general obviously, the geography, the politics, the environment, the climate, the holidays, the culture. More specifically, I want to be able to have the foraging backup plan in case I get caught between towns with a flat tire, and I'd rather not end up being the inspiration for "Into the Wild 2".
- Bike Training/Education: So I've done the city-biking routine, but I am fully aware that this is completely different, from the mentality to the endurance. I'll need to purchase another bike as well, as mine was stolen last fall. I figure it will be the first "training" bike that I get for the trip, so that I can learn all the hard lessons on a cheaper version, then opt for the $2K upgrade a few months before I leave. To get my body used to the challenge, I'm guessing that I'll start with small trips around the city, then the outer boroughs, then to Long Island, then upstate, and so on. They have bike clubs all over the place that I'll probably join too, and who knows, maybe I'll meet someone who's as nuts as I am, and I'll have a traveling buddy too.
Liz told me last night that anything could happen between now and then, and because she's nominated herself as my relationship coach, this clearly meant that I might have a few child support payments to make. Eh...just put it on the auto-payment tab, and hopefully I'll make it back for the 1st birthday.
But as soon as she said it, I realized how lucky I am to be in the position that I'm in to take this trip: I'm single, no kids, no mortgage, no "boss" or "job", no more military obligations. I'm pretty much the only thing that could possibly sabotage taking this trip, and I'm eager to find out how I'll do just that.
Of course, I can't leave this entry without posting the centipede/tarantula battle royale:
Showing posts with label South America. Show all posts
Showing posts with label South America. Show all posts
Friday, June 20, 2008
the first entry (pre-pre-pre-planning)
So lately i've been in a funk.
Such apathetic beginnings inevitably lead to one of two extremes: a self-indulgent journey of life, love, and the rest of it...or a bullet-point presentation of efforts for world domination. I'll take the former...for now...
A funk. It's not really that accurate. It's not even really true, the whole "lately" part. I'm pretty sure that I've been on some kind of downward spiral since my first drag off a menthol cigarette at age 9. I just wanted to look cool and have fresh breath. If I had known that, 19 years later, it would lead to losing any ambition to do anything....well...I'd probably have smoked it anyway. Don't look at me like that, I lived in the South, was almost a pre-teen and still hadn't gotten laid, what were my options?
So at 28, having given up menthols for cloves long ago, been in and out of college (occasionally getting a degree), been in and out of the military (occasionally going AWOL), escaped southern xenophobia for New York City (where there is no such thing as racism), found the meaning of life (Daniel Quinn), lost the means to life (my credit score), found the secret to life ("The Secret"), and started up two businesses....I am utterly bored.
Two nights ago, during a "tomorrow's goals" call, my friend and business partner Liz picked up on the depressed tone in my voice, and being the bleeding heart that she is, asked "What's wrong?" -- obviously not a native New Yorker. 2 hours later I felt better, not because I was more optimistic, but because I had succeeded in dragging her down with me. Honestly, whatever works. Where's that clove...
While tearing down those closest to you to not feel so inadequate is obviously the quickest way to happiness, for some reason my new depth of apathy lingered throughout the next day. Late last night though, I'm walking home from the store with my usual yogurt/granola/rice crackers/hummus menu when I almost get hit by a biker trying to pass a taxi. Granted I was in the street trying to pass a couple walking their tiny dog (while happily enjoying the thought that I'm not so jaded that I'll allow the visual discomfort of a grown man walking a tiny dog in Manhattan as acceptable), and I used to be a big street biker myself, but still...a little part of me hoped that he would have the decency to be dragged underneath the taxi he was passing for my right of way. I was wearing my Italian leather power-boots, for god's sake, have some respect for the pretend-rich.
And just like that, I call up Liz with the newest meaning of life, "I want to take a biking trip through South America!" I exclaimed to her....voicemail. When she finally called back an hour later I was still leaving her a message, so I had to start over. She was immediately excited as well, but I didn't let that hold me back, I was on a mission now.
And so here we are. It's the next day and I've already got a list of things to work on. I figure it will take a few years to prepare: learning Spanish, getting my body in shape, learning the local flora/fauna, etc. I'll need to put my income on autopilot somehow too, so I can still be making money while I'm on the trip, which I figure will be at least 6 months. I'm not sure if it's a one-way or round trip, and while Liz approves of the SA portion, when I suggested that I leave from New York instead of starting in the middle, she said that wasn't a good idea. So clearly that's what I'll be doing (because I don't think I can even do SA, let alone from NY). For lack of a more creative title, I have decided to document all the preparation and the trip itself in (drumroll please) "The Great Pan-American Bike Trip".
Plus, I just found out that the legal age of consent for most SA countries is 16, so that pretty much seals the deal.
Such apathetic beginnings inevitably lead to one of two extremes: a self-indulgent journey of life, love, and the rest of it...or a bullet-point presentation of efforts for world domination. I'll take the former...for now...
A funk. It's not really that accurate. It's not even really true, the whole "lately" part. I'm pretty sure that I've been on some kind of downward spiral since my first drag off a menthol cigarette at age 9. I just wanted to look cool and have fresh breath. If I had known that, 19 years later, it would lead to losing any ambition to do anything....well...I'd probably have smoked it anyway. Don't look at me like that, I lived in the South, was almost a pre-teen and still hadn't gotten laid, what were my options?
So at 28, having given up menthols for cloves long ago, been in and out of college (occasionally getting a degree), been in and out of the military (occasionally going AWOL), escaped southern xenophobia for New York City (where there is no such thing as racism), found the meaning of life (Daniel Quinn), lost the means to life (my credit score), found the secret to life ("The Secret"), and started up two businesses....I am utterly bored.
Two nights ago, during a "tomorrow's goals" call, my friend and business partner Liz picked up on the depressed tone in my voice, and being the bleeding heart that she is, asked "What's wrong?" -- obviously not a native New Yorker. 2 hours later I felt better, not because I was more optimistic, but because I had succeeded in dragging her down with me. Honestly, whatever works. Where's that clove...
While tearing down those closest to you to not feel so inadequate is obviously the quickest way to happiness, for some reason my new depth of apathy lingered throughout the next day. Late last night though, I'm walking home from the store with my usual yogurt/granola/rice crackers/hummus menu when I almost get hit by a biker trying to pass a taxi. Granted I was in the street trying to pass a couple walking their tiny dog (while happily enjoying the thought that I'm not so jaded that I'll allow the visual discomfort of a grown man walking a tiny dog in Manhattan as acceptable), and I used to be a big street biker myself, but still...a little part of me hoped that he would have the decency to be dragged underneath the taxi he was passing for my right of way. I was wearing my Italian leather power-boots, for god's sake, have some respect for the pretend-rich.
And just like that, I call up Liz with the newest meaning of life, "I want to take a biking trip through South America!" I exclaimed to her....voicemail. When she finally called back an hour later I was still leaving her a message, so I had to start over. She was immediately excited as well, but I didn't let that hold me back, I was on a mission now.
And so here we are. It's the next day and I've already got a list of things to work on. I figure it will take a few years to prepare: learning Spanish, getting my body in shape, learning the local flora/fauna, etc. I'll need to put my income on autopilot somehow too, so I can still be making money while I'm on the trip, which I figure will be at least 6 months. I'm not sure if it's a one-way or round trip, and while Liz approves of the SA portion, when I suggested that I leave from New York instead of starting in the middle, she said that wasn't a good idea. So clearly that's what I'll be doing (because I don't think I can even do SA, let alone from NY). For lack of a more creative title, I have decided to document all the preparation and the trip itself in (drumroll please) "The Great Pan-American Bike Trip".
Plus, I just found out that the legal age of consent for most SA countries is 16, so that pretty much seals the deal.
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