I guess it all depends on what kind of adventure one is into, I was complaining the other day how I had accomplished nothing since my fathers death, and a good friend Chad stated "that is not true, you have since began Mountain Biking and Snowshoeing."
That is certainly true, and both are a form of adventure and defiantly entertaining for those without the International lust.
Once a person experiences something great they can never return to the same, I struggle to think of what internal demons Teddy Roosevelt must have Struggled with after his Exploration of the Amazon and Africa. He must have sat longingly looking out of office windows dreaming of the next campaign, never again to come.
I know that for me the first time I stood in a Cathedral in Europe where the Black Knight lay, I knew my life was forever changed, when I spent weeks on a train sleeping in awkward positions, hearing the constant chirp of the steel wheels hitting rails as they were bolted together those sounds would always be in my head, and every bump I hit when I drive my car to work brings back those memories.
One of the oddest things has stuck in my mind for 17 long years now, it is the sound of a man with hot coffee in his back pack, and his voice which I can only equate to sounding something like the male version of Fran Drescher and his loud voice yelling the same word over and over again in my sleep muddled mind "Cafe, Cafe" always pops into my mind when I drink Coffee.
I sit each day and look out the window, each Motorbike loaded with bags that travels by brings to me the longing of adventure that comes with it, the hum of the tires and the wind tugging at my jacket just races thru my mind.
I have put off riding South America for the past three years, I was nearly ready twice, the first time in 2010 I quit honestly simply caved, my mind confused and lost from my father leaving this world I was unsure, with the economy in the toilet I held onto any dime I could get, but it was to much, and I made more plans, with my Mom being who would watch my dear Pets and home.
With her Passing as well my Trip was again put on hold while I struggled to deal with the Immense responsibility of someone passing in America yet again.
I then had yet another opportunity but settled for a job with the intent of working internationally for the company, but the realization that adventure is not the same as working nags at me, pulls at my sleeve.
All I know is at some point I would like a family, but until I get at least one last big trip under my belt I am not sure how realistic that dream is.
There is so much to see and do on this planet form e I know that at least for now, Local Adventure only further wets my lips.
I think every day of Swimming with the worlds largest shark, how my heart beat so, and I long again for that feeling, no desk, no amount of work can compensate for a dream coming true.
It has to be done.
I leave you with a quote from the one of the Greatest Men who ever Lived, Teddy Roosevelt.
"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievemt and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."
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