Light at the End of a Long Winter’s Fortnight
When one is a part-time adventurer there are bound to be periods of wanderlust when one cannot wait for the next opportunity to go exploring. During these times the endless routine of everyday life seems like pure drudgery and the amateur adventurer displays a tendency for fowl moods. Such are the long nights of winter when the only comfort is to read someone else’s adventures and curse the stupid menial chores that kept us from taking advantage of nice warm summer days or even mild winter ones. Such is the conundrum of the part-time adventurer. In order to provide a stable and comfortable life for ourselves and our families we choose to hold down full time careers; however, we constantly find ourselves pining for new adventures and wondering whether it’s all worth it.
As often is the case, the grass is not always greener on the other side of the fence-though it may look that way. Our friend and professional photographer, Michel Szulc Krzyanowski, reminds us in a recent post to his Blog that the professionals too have times when they question the path they have chosen. The nomadic life of the photojournalist sounds exciting but it also entails longs nights on cramped hotel rooms without a single familiar face for thousands of miles. Which approach is best? Who is to say…? All I know is I have made my decision and I have a lot to be thankful for: a loving wife, a comfortable home, friends and family.
This realization does not mean that I can avoid the part-time adventurer blues. Recently I went through one such period of restlessness. Even though it has been an unusually mild winter in the Eastern United States by all accounts, January and early February brought with them weeks of non-stop freezing weather. It was so cold that I could not even bring myself to go out to the shed to work on some overdue home improvement projects much less go adventuring.
Added to the cold weather was the realization that the long-awaited trip to Japan may have to be postponed due to economic reasons. Even though I know that the trip will probably not be held off indefinitely, the current financial situation does makes it seem a lot further out than I had hoped and even makes me question whether this lifestyle is feasible. As usual the demands of the here and now compete with the dream of what could be. I even question if it’s worth keeping up this Blog. Will I have something interesting to write if my mayor trips have to be years apart?
I try to console myself thinking that I will have more time to prepare this way and dive into the Japan Travel guide and the new bilingual atlas I received the other day. My resolve to make the best of it is soon broken by my realization that I am ill-prepared for the second part of the elementary Japanese class that I had hoped would equip me to distinguish myself from the average tourist. When did anyone say we had to learn all the Katakana and Hiragana during the break in order to understand the dialog?
As if one queue, my acid reflux returns-as it does when I slack off on the medication or don’t watch my diet-and I spend a couple of restless nights tossing, turning and getting up occasionally when I can take no more.
When all seems lost, a ray of light appears on the long winter’s fortnight; the temperatures are set to climb into the fifties this week. Yes! I get my bike ready to go last night and pray that the forecasted showers are enough to sweep the road clean of sand laid down in preparation for last week’s ice storm. During these times of deep existential funk, even the short bike ride to work can bring some relief.
The bite of the cold on your jacket, the sound of the engine as I work through the gears, the feeling of flight as I lean into a curve… it all makes me feel that I’m alive. The big Hella driving lights, pelican cases and GPS bracket may be overkill for the 15 min commute but the sight of my bike parked outside makes me feel that I could take off any time and ride to Mexico, the Sahara or even China. The possibilities are endless and, even if I am just riding back home at the day’s end, the feeling is the same as if I were embarking on a journey of a million miles.
