This week has been productive in terms of planning. Zoey is almost finished examining the last stage of our trip by choosing campsites along a pre-established Adventure Cycling route. After that is all settled, we will pretty much be done planning our route, save for some minor tweaks. I've been doing some research on building a solar powered charging station to attach to our bikes, which is definitely an exciting and challenging end of semester project.
This week has also been disappointing. For various reasons, it does not look like Janie will be able to do the trip with us this summer. Now that our trio is down to two, we have a lot to think about as we re-evaluate our plans. Safety concerns that we (and our parents) had with three riders are even more pertinent with two riders. This change has really forced me to take another look at the trip as a whole and think about what makes sense. Should we still do the trip? Is it naive to believe that two young women biking 3000+ miles across the United States will come away unscathed? Do we have to change our route to only go through "safe" places? I really don't know the answers to these questions. No one really does. The only thing we can do is keep discussing it and putting out our best thinking as we try to figure it out.
This week I am even more impassioned about this trip. Through numerous conversations with Zoey, Janie, my parents, Zoey's parents, and many friends, I realize how critically important this trip has become to me. A conversation that especially stands out in my mind is one I had with Susan, Zoey's mom. She took a similar adventure when she was our age traveling across Europe with her cousin. She had some extremely useful insights about, well, everything. As she put it, the goal of this trip should not be the end destination. Its not really about biking across America. Its really about people. First and foremost, its about my relationship with Zoey and our longstanding friendship. Its about the connections we will make with people along the way- people we have just met, but yet have so much in common with. Its about decision making, and having the flexibility to turn back or go exploring in a particular place we find interesting. Its about our personal growth and confidence as individuals, as we do something that is both exciting and a bit scary.
I really couldn't agree more. I hope it all turns out for the best.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Monday, April 16, 2012
Adventuring
There is something amazing about adventures. It all starts with a desire to see the world, experience something new or push yourself to accomplish something you never thought you could. Some planning may be useful, but spontaneity is nice too. Most of all, you have to convince yourself that everything you will learn from the adventure will outweigh the risks. I call this the sanity check. But most awesome ideas should pass the sanity check and leave you even more excited. Being scared is ok, but not an excuse for the adventure to not happen. Embrace your fear! Recognize it and keep going. The way I see it, the day you let your fears prevent you from doing things you desire is the day that you are no longer living life to its fullest.
Today, I spent over an hour standing at the edge of a splintery beam 30 feet above the Charles River contemplating the jump. My nerves were overwhelming, and it seemed nothing I could do could quench them. Somehow, staring into the depths of the river made the water seem closer. I convinced myself that it would be over in less than a second, and finally I did it. The moment my knees bent and I pushed off the beam was the moment I will remember most. I knew that I had to jump, for myself. The anxiety had built up so much, and I would not be satisfied with leaving that bridge without jumping. After I jumped and hit the water, I felt an immense release of tension. The whole world was a little lighter and more colorful, and I was beaming with joy. I absolutely love that state of mind, and that is why I love adventuring. I learned a lot today, and none of it is tangible, or even easily explained. Once you do things like this, you just know.
I think that everyday you should do something that scares you. Do something that is uncomfortable, that isn't easy. Adventures don't always end the way they were intended to, but they are most always worthwhile. Life is to short to spend time worrying about little things and to-do lists. As a good friend said today, you will never remember a problem-set you did in college but you will always remember bridge jumping on a hot day in April.
Today, I spent over an hour standing at the edge of a splintery beam 30 feet above the Charles River contemplating the jump. My nerves were overwhelming, and it seemed nothing I could do could quench them. Somehow, staring into the depths of the river made the water seem closer. I convinced myself that it would be over in less than a second, and finally I did it. The moment my knees bent and I pushed off the beam was the moment I will remember most. I knew that I had to jump, for myself. The anxiety had built up so much, and I would not be satisfied with leaving that bridge without jumping. After I jumped and hit the water, I felt an immense release of tension. The whole world was a little lighter and more colorful, and I was beaming with joy. I absolutely love that state of mind, and that is why I love adventuring. I learned a lot today, and none of it is tangible, or even easily explained. Once you do things like this, you just know.
I think that everyday you should do something that scares you. Do something that is uncomfortable, that isn't easy. Adventures don't always end the way they were intended to, but they are most always worthwhile. Life is to short to spend time worrying about little things and to-do lists. As a good friend said today, you will never remember a problem-set you did in college but you will always remember bridge jumping on a hot day in April.
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