Doubt

There is no bigger obstacle than doubt. If the mighty explorers of the past ever listened when their peers doubted them… we might all be living on a very small and overcrowded continent. Planes would not streak across our skies everyday. The moon might still be made of green cheese. We might all still be using oil lamps and yelling from mountain tops to get our messages out.

When I was young, people including myself had doubts I’d make it to my 21st birthday… say hello now to 54! My life has been full of doubts, mostly from those around me, and like those explorers, I took on those doubts as a personal challenge.

In my present life we are starting to sell off everything we own and planning our getaway. Doubt?! OMG our minds are full of doubt… and on some days we have to pinch ourselves and slap ourselves out of the funk surrounding this doubt. We have planned carefully. Never in 25 years together has anything that challenged us, not been surmounted, conquered and accomplished with a little faith and hard work. We live for our dreams… as dreams are our stepping stones into our futures.

Doubt can be healthy or a huge detriment. It depends on how you approach it. We all have a grand purpose in our lives… it’s in our DNAs. We can choose to let doubt run our life or we can choose to take it in stride and take little steps forward around it. Doubt is a thought, an opinion, but don’t let it become a lack of action or something so powerful that you’re life stops

Walking The Line

My whole life used to be centered around walking one path or another. I often chose the path of least resistance as a child… later I was a follower… then I swung from right to left in wild extremes. Now a days I find the center path is much more enjoyable.

Walking the center allows me to experience more of life’s variances. I’m not stuck in my ways and find it much easier to see others point of view without having to buy in or fight them. I haven’t painted myself into a box… quite the opposite, I have opened myself up to stepping outside the “box”. I don’t swing wildly to the right or left… I stay more neutral and I find this is a much easier path in my life. Not to say I don’t have strong opinions… I just allow myself to speak my mind, my position and then engage in insightful conversations.

While walking the center can be dangerous… say if you are walking on a busy street… but I find it is important when traveling abroad. The moment I start comparing my life with the lives of those around me, I become unable to share in their life experiences. I become self-absorbed and close minded instead of a foreign traveler in someone else’s homeland.

For me the center is a good place to grow and share in all of life’s adventures.

Looking Back is Always Fun…

Playa del Carmen, Mexico: Day One 2/21/2016
We decided to take a “tourist” vacation this time to Mexico. Of course it helps to be a traveler when things go not as planned.

The flight went well and we hopped in the bus to head half hour south to Playa. Back packs and day packs we hoofed it a couple of blocks to the hotel.

The street was full of reminders of our tourist destination. Sunburned Europeans walked aimlessly through the streets.

Arriving at our hotel they informed us that we didn’t have a room but had made arrangements at another hotel. Reina Roja Hotel is a cool boutique hotel but it reminds me of the Red Light District in Amsterdam. LOL. Jokes on us.

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The Desert Silence

Here I am sitting on a rock in the middle of the NV desert. A minute ago I was driving and found myself just wanting to “get there”. I thought to myself, “why can’t you just stop?” Surrounded by all this beauty and the grandeur of the desert in all its vastness, emptiness, and its own beauty. Why can’t I stop? I finally pulled over and found this rock and had the desire to write. Writing makes me stop, turn inwards and listen. It tunes out the outside, complicated world and makes me calm down.

I hear the breeze blowing thru the dry brush. I feel the vastness of the blue sky. I feel the warmth of the sun contrasting the coolness of the rock I am sitting on. I hear my inner demons and the battle that I am waging on the inside. I feel the sadness of being alone, but not lonely. I feel the struggle of an inner peace scratching and clawing its way to the surface of my being.

It is a perfect 72 degrees. The sun shining brilliantly in a near cloudless sky. The desert surrounding me shows off billions of years of weathering the turmoils of life. Life of a desert. There are hundreds of colors if you look close enough. Birds sing their songs of the day if you stop and be still. When all stops the silence is deafening. I can hear the tapping of the keyboard, the rush of blood in my ears, my heartbeat and every breath I take. A car passing by breaks my trance and I must move on. A bit calmer and more centered than just a short time ago.

I found a trail that lead to the top of a ridge for some 360 views. Again the silence is broken by the sound of the wind in my ears and the sound of the passing cars below. Winding thru this landscape is a black ribbon that allows even novices into this stark landscape. I take a sip of water and am reminded that is this one element that is lacking here. It is the one thing that brings life and death to the desert. A gentle burst of rain is quenching. A sudden downpour can equal death and destruction as it upsets the tiny microclimate, causing run off, flash floods and great land disturbances that shape the ever changing dynamics of the desert.

The mountains of the desert are like folds in the earth’s ancient crust. Others are like ancient sea reefs. Others are great monoliths of long extinct volcanoes. They all loom high above the desert floor and are haloed by the true blue of the desert sky. They stand like monuments, thrusting out of the flat sandy bottoms to touch heaven itself.
I venture further into the ever changing landscape and come to my favorite, red rock. The red rock is the womb of Mother Nature. The wind and rain carve into this sand stone and give it its unique characteristics of color, carvings and caves. The caverns that are created remind me of a womb. This rock has pushed up from deep inside Mother Earth and survived years of punishing to create these eerie formations that hold a history lesson in fossils and primal composition. The layers reveal stories of years gone by before man and memory. Every sound echoes through its strange formations. I could sit here for hours and pick out faces, shapes and become entranced by is stark beauty.

A small lizard just ran past me and broke me from my daze. The desert has a way of stealing you away. It lulls you into a trance of sun, rock and heat. Transfix your gaze on an object and hours can go by without notice. The desert soothes the mind and rocks the soul into a blissful existence. The shadows grow longer and the sun moves slowly, methodically across the sky. These rocks and sand have seen the same path over and over again, but the visitor to this realm, is transformed with each moment spent in its splendor. Tread lightly and take only pictures and leave only footprints in this land of history and intrigue.

Day Three: The Absentee GF

What an incredible day! One thing about the jungle in Central America is the sunrise. At the first crack of dawn the jungle comes alive. The crickets and frogs cease and the birds sound the wake up call for the world. Parrots screech as they fly in waves of brilliant green across the sky in daring acrobatics through the trees. The morning doves rise and begin their mournful songs. The cowbirds make their unworldly announcements to get your ass out of bed. It’s natures alarm clock.

If you are so inclined to open your eyes and meet the dawn, the sky reveals intense hews of pinks and crimsons that cut through the inky black night. The trees begin as shadows against the lightening sky and eventually turn lush green and show off brilliant colored flowers. It seems to take an eternity for the night to release itself from the day.

Coffee and breakfast on the deck overlooking the turquoise sea and silhouetted against the sky is the distant mountain ranges of the mainland. This is truly paradise. Wafting on the cool morning breeze is the smell of coffee, bacon and salt air. Time to start the day.

Chris has met a gal here from Canada and the two of them are going to hike to the other side of the island. I will stay put at the lodge and chill since my knee is still not quite healed enough for an uneven Trail. There’s an inviting pool with a volleyball net which will serve as my entertainment for the day.

Bambuda Lodge is an eco lodge on the small island of Isla Sorte. It’s nicely nestled in a jungle setting. Fully supported by the sun and rain water. Fairly rustic with trails leading to the different sleeping areas. They have tent camping, single rooms, private rooms and dorm rooms. Their kitchen turns out delicious food for ever culinary tastes. There’s a pretty fully stocked bar with local beer and wine, cokes and coffee. A resident dog names Sasha who enjoys smiling at everyone and taking hikes with the guests. Best yet… hot showers and a pool to enjoy. It attracts travelers from all over the world with reasonable rates for your stay. http://www.bambuda.net

My day was relaxing. I played volleyball in the pool with the guys for hours. There were Italians, a Norwegian, a couple Germans and a Canadian… a smile and laughter is the same in any language. I chased the shade around the deck to keep from ending up looking like a sunburned tourist for the rest of our stay. After 4 hours I began to worry as I had not seen a water taxi carrying Chris and Joanne from the beach that was their final destination. The day before a young gal was attacked on the same trail so two middle aged women would be a prime target. At 4 1/2 hours they came back, finally, both sweating and exhausted. They had not been able to flag down a water taxi from the dock after a half hour. They had met some German boys that were also lost and they eventually had to climb back up the ladder like steps 200 feet back to the trail and hike back to the lodge.

After a mid day nap at the pool we were ready to continue our relaxing evening with an incredible meal and good company.

Panama Here We Come

Day One Panama: Travel Day
Holiday, vacation, time off… depending on where you live… it all amounts to time away from a regular routine. For most Americans though, we must try to cram a “vacation : a finite amount of time allowed to us by an employer to try to enjoy ourselves” into a short trip to ‘try’ to relax and forget about our “normal daily routines”. I find that it usually takes about a day to get where ever we are going including packing, running around dropping of the “kids” human or four legged, getting to the mode of transportation and the travel to the destination. This day is usually, or at least can be, more stressful than the stress of our daily routines.

For me I find the disconnect rather difficult even though I tell myself I am excited… I’m not gonna think about work… I’m not gonna miss my boy… we’re gonna have fun DAMN IT… if it’s the last thing I do! I worry about having forgotten something. Not getting to the airport on time. GERMS! Yes I’m a germifobe when it comes to winter travel during major flu outbreaks. I just can’t seem to ‘chill’. I just want to get there…
This trip is going to be longer than our normal. We are throwing all caution to the wind and taking off for two weeks. Our normal is five days. We are going where there is limited power… internet… and an abundance of natural living! Islands off the coast of Panama, just south of the Costa Rican border. Bocas del Toro. We’ve rented two homes that are run on solar power and the water in the homes is supplied by the rainfall and rain catchment systems… in other words, we are at the hands of the earth, the sky, and Mother Nature.

Gandaulf the Red

Over the last 25 years, we have always traveled with a dog.  Mercy “Bucket”… a 75 pound German shepherd was an awesome travel companion and member of our little family.  She passed on Mother’s Day in 2008 at 15 years old.  After a short grieving period we got Gandaulf.  We were looking for another Adventure Dog that could keep up with our travels but this time without the size and hairiness of a shepherd.  The Corgis are a working breed just like the shepherds, with a lot of the same mannerisms, easy to train and always out to please.

Gandaulf came to us as a rescue at 10 weeks old. How could a dog with such short legs keep up with our hiking, climbing, rafting and travel abroad?  He would get high centered on the Sunday papers in driveways on our walks, high centered on tennis balls… but boy could he jump! It wasn’t long before his first 2 mile hike, camping trips and rafting/fishing trips. He was a natural in the outdoors.

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Gandaulf is now 7 years old and shows no sign of slowing down.  He has been to more countries than most humans.  Every year he has his own calendar showcasing his travels… he’s a natural in front of the camera.  This adventure will be a test of his patience and travel savvy.

We have never entered another country via driving across the border.  There is a bit of trepidation on our part.  We see blogs and FB posts of people traveling with their dogs. Traveling by airplanes is such a hassle with the red tape and vaccinations he has to go through. Poor guy… but he is a trooper.  We hope crossing a border is no big deal…

We would love to hear from anyone out there with such experience for some pointers.  Dos and don’ts, etc…

The Fear Factor

If anyone our age tells you that they are not afraid to do something new, give up everything they have, quit their job, sell their homes, cash out their retirement accounts and leave whatever family and friends they have, I’d say they are not centered in reality.

As human beings we resist change. People cling to religion because it is a constant in their lives. They stay in their homes till they die or they can no longer live alone.

We are at a jumping off point that is like jumping off a 700 foot cliff with a wing suit as safety equipment. Oh… and with no prior training. Do not hesitate. Yes websites, blogs, Facebook and many other publications exist that make this journey a bit more manageable… but the actual “doing” is scary as hell!

Twenty years ago even thinking about doing this would have been a daunting undertaking. Where do you start? Where is it safe to cross a border? Where is it safe to spend the night? What do you need to cross a border? The world was a huge unknown for the most part. The US state department made you so afraid to venture into other countries. As a visual learner, I find the task at hand much easier to comprehend. The how to exists out there. YouTube, Blog sites, Facebook pages for expats, AIRBNB, VRBO, where to go and how to manuals are everywhere.

When we were younger this would’ve been an absolute thrilling notion, like when we hit the road back in 1993/4. Cell phones were new on the market and very expensive (for what they were). IPads were a futuristic concept. Hell a portable laptop computer was even just a glimmer in someone’s imagination. We were kids… we threw caution to the wind and just did it. Ahhhh… for the innocence of youth…

This time we have so many options… some more fraught with danger than others. Could we be happy settling down in some mountain town in Ecuador, Columbia, Peru? Become beach bums in Nicaragua, Honduras, Belize, and Thailand? Travel the world from ‘point A to point B’ with no time limits? Will our vagabonding lifestyle be possible as planned? Best made plans are often laid to waist when put into action… still we continue to put one foot in front of the other. I continue to wake with butterflies in my stomach, that’s the “more mature age” jitters… The Fear Factor

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