The Travel Funk

I am easily the most offensive person in this entire airport right now. First of all, its hot but if I take off my knitted beany then I will reveal the concealed Johnny bravo hairdue that’s defying the laws of gravity with my natural hair grease. I’m quite impressed with myself actually – my bodily fluids are defeating the laws of nature. I rule.

Secondly, I smell like a big sweaty foot that has been stewing sockless in Dock Martins in a college locker room sauna. What surprises me most about this however isn’t the actual odor seeping out from my general vicinity, its that between my two armpits, the stench is coming mostly from my LEFT!!!!

This. Never. Happens.

Between the two armpits, its always my right that smells worse than my left. I bet my left armpit is getting back at me for all those years of neglect… years of dehydration while my right armpit has been distinguishing itself at weddings, during test taking, and if Deal or No Deal is on - soaking up all the attention (pun intended). Well hats off to you left armpit (not my hat of course) – now is your time to SHINE.

Lastly, I look like I have been through a marathon of drug abuse. I made the mistake of looking at myself in the mirror in the bathroom and I thought that my eyeballs were actually bleeding. The other thing that it could pass for however is that I spent the entire time on the 12 hour plane ride, balling my eyes out in the bathroom which isn’t true either but luckily this is the story that both customs and security chose to believe. They could’ve gone either story and I am thankful that my travel wasn’t delayed as they assumed the crying-in-the-bathroom shtick over the cocaine marathon shtick. Being, very obviously, not the “tough guy” type has it’s upsides every now and again.

It may seem curious that I am on my way back to the US of A as I will only be there for 5 short days. A few short hours after my great sky diving adventure, I received a sobering phone call, snapping me back down to earth much faster than it takes gravity. My grandpa wasn’t doing to hot and was not expected to live longer than a few days. This news was surreal and almost unbelievable. Being so far, it didn’t quite feel like I new it should, as if it was someone else’s grandpa, someone else’s family. When I got the call a few days later, arrangements were made, and here I am, unexpectedly back in my home country, with little sleep, and even less capacity to process the incredible life and now, loss, of such an important person in both my, and my families life. Although, the trip feels endless, and its strange to be here so unexpectedly, I think I will be thankful to honor the life of such an incredible man, in person, with my family.

A fond farewell

Today brought the end of an era, the final day of the 4 best friends road trip. Today, Lauren and I sadly part ways with our travel companions Devon and Ross. Devon and Ross have been beyond awesome to put it plainly and I feel lucky to have met them let alone share food, drink, car space, and over one month of memory making. For those of you who don’t know…

Devon and Ross also hail from the Midwest, specifically Minnesota and Ohio. Over the past several months, and as the true adventurers they are, they saved up some cash, quit their jobs, said goodbye to their loved ones and pursued the Wanderlust, blazing a new trail and “following the clues” for the next year of their lives. You may be wondering how we were so lucky to cross paths with them. In the fall of 2005, Devon and Lauren studied abroad through the same program in Nantes, France and were fast friends. As we all planned our ensuing adventures, Devon and Lauren discovered that our adventures would land us all in New Zealand at the same time. So Lauren and Devon, put the final details together, Ross and I tagged along, and the four of us, joined by our traveling psychic ball – The Orb, hopped into our newest companion Bilbo Waggins (our car), and set off. They have been fast and great friends and it has been better than we could have been expected every step of the way. You couldn’t ask for better traveling companions than these two.

So Devon and Ross, thanks again for sharing your journey with us – we are more than grateful and can’t wait to read[stalk] the rest of your ensuing journey.
You can follow Ross and Devon’s travels at their blog site Devonitely Rossome which is linked to the left.

Who invented this?

December 25th, 2009:
As I scanned the base of our Christmas tree, my eyes fall upon a small envelope with my name on it. It’s from my sister and [almost] brother in law. My assumptions were either one of two things: I was getting an IOU Christmas present – they had either forgotten to bring it from Denver, ordered it late and it wasn’t in the mail, or wanted me to choose between several options. The second thought that I had was that it was a gift-card from a fair trade or gear store to purchase something for my upcoming adventure. “I am awfully clever”, I thought, “I’ve got them pegged” but I was WRONG and was thus totally unprepared for how incredible the contents of that envelope were…

Flash forward: This morning, March 8th 2010, I awoke in the cozy little town of Methven, New Zealand, with butterflies playing a rugby match in my stomach. It was a combination of excitement, anticipation and nerves. It was the same feeling that often accompanied exam week in college, where you spend 12 hours drinking coffee to stay awake in order to cram in all the knowledge you forgot to gain throughout the semester. Your hands are a little shaky, your stomach slightly unhappy with you and your whole body clammy, not quite sweaty exactly, CLAMMY. I woke this morning facing what seemed like an idiotic reality when spoken out loud: “I am going to jump out of an airplane today.”

The butterflies continued their raucous dance party in my stomach, however as we walked toward the plane to climb inside, I didn’t feel afraid or even nervous, just twitterpated. This was the point of no return, once this plane leaves the ground, I have no choice - I will have to jump. My instructor, Laszlo, was really cool – a lot cooler than I am… (big surprise, he’s a sky diving instructor) and calmed my nerves with his, well, lack of nerves. Once we reached the desired elevation and the plane hatch flew open, my first real sense of fear kicked in as I watched Lauren and her instructor disappear into the open sky… its our turn. God help me.
The next 20 seconds seemed like the longest of my life as we shuffled our way to the edge of the plane, Laszlo adjusted a few straps and I dangled my over the side, waiting to take the plunge. Finally it came, and as we flipped out of the plane I had no idea which direction was up or down and my stomach lost all sense of where it was supposed to be in my body. When Laszlo tapped my shoulder, signaling that I could stretch out my arms, my stomach found its proper placement and this time left the butterflies to float down on their own. I always pictured sky diving as a rollercoaster on speed, a constant stomach drop, the thrill of a lifetime. While it was thrilling, it was also peaceful. It felt incredible to see the world from that perspective with no snoring neighbor or flight attendant to interrupt or window to look through. The whole experience was over in a blink and had they asked immediately upon landing, before my rationale decision-making skills landed, to pay every cent I had to do it again, I would have enthusiastically responded with two thumbs up.

Luckily, they didn’t ask, and before I knew it, Laszlo was climbing back on another plane to take out another group and I sat silently in shock and awe over what I just experienced.
So, KB and Caleb, this blog entry is dedicated to you… thank you SOOOOO MUCH for the best Christmas gift ever!!!!