Changing Gears
I’ve always had an eye for “crazy” ideas. As my friends can often attest, I’m the adventurer of the group. I don’t shy away from a challenge and tend to lack the inhibitions preventing others from having fun outside. I wouldn’t consider myself a risk-taker, but rather someone who balances the unknowns of a trip against my prior experience and will get additional training or equipment to appropriately prepare myself for the risks I can foresee. I’m by no means perfect, and often do make mistakes, but after extensive planning and preparation, “crazy” ideas don’t seem so crazy anymore, but something possible, even within reach, if I just dare to try them.
Some of these ideas were - and still are - my dreams to kayak the Pacific Coast of the US, or to island-hop the Aegean Sea from Greece to Turkey. But by breaking these ideas down into smaller pieces - from building endurance in kayaking, to purchasing the appropriate equipment, to receiving instruction and practicing my skills, to going on larger trips like my six day adventure among the Apostle Islands, the big dreams feel more possible than ever.
Likewise, I once dreamt of crossing the US by bicycle. I purchased a bicycle, trained with it to build my touring endurance, purchased bike panniers to expand my carrying capacity, purchased camping equipment from a tent and sleeping bag to water filters and first aid, and proceeded on smaller trips to build experience. I cycled from San Luis Obispo to San Jose, CA over a five day period. I cycled from Madison to Milwaukee and back in just three days. I took several other trips on, for example, the Military Ridge State Trail, the Badger/Jane Adams State Trails, the Pine River Trail, and - to a lesser extent - family day trips on the Little Miami River Trail. Each trip built my experience, my endurance, and with that, my confidence. The dream of simply crossing the US started to evolve. Sometime earlier this year, I watched Pedal the World, a documentary by Felix Starck that describes his trip to cycle around the whole world. It spoke to me in a way that ignited a serious case of pandemic-fueled wanderlust. Instead of just crossing the US, I wanted to explore, and larger distances than that started to seem possible.
I started planning for this new dream. Armed with a wealth of bicycle touring experience and the vast majority of equipment I would need, one of the few remaining things I needed was a route. And with the mental shackles of being restricted to just one continent lifted, I considered extending my path through Europe, and possibly beyond. The new dream takes me across the Eastern US, onto a plane and off to Ireland, then slowly but surely make my way across Europe, as if in a giant backwards ‘S’ through Germany, around the Alps, south through Italy, and - if I make it - up through Greece and across Turkey. And from there, if I have the will, either north through the Caucusus into Russia or onto a plane and off to India.
It’s a big dream. I think one of the problems I have is that I hold on to too many big ideas. In some sense it’s a blessing, but in others it’s a curse. One of the realities that I grapple with is that life is simply too short to do everything I want to do. By committing to one dream, I am by very definition postponing another. And with so much of life consumed by a career, opportunities to embark on big adventures are few and far between. It takes more courage to choose between them than to set out upon one once the decision has been made.
