Here's to Plan B!

In Alaska, there is always a Plan B and usually a Plan C and D.  Planning here in the summer is based mainly on the weather, and in the winter, the snow stability.  It can also be influenced by what others are stoked about and even some days, a hangover or the need to sleep will shut down or postpone all plans.  It's common to talk about doing one thing on Monday and by Friday your plan has morphed 3-4 times with still no final destination determined until you wake in the morning.

This is similar in traveling.  When I travel, I try my best not to make plans.  Who knows who you'll meet along the way or what side adventures you may embark on.  Leaving options open is half the fun of it.  Obviously, ideas can shape an outline of a trip but for me it's freeing, knowing that I can make decisions on the fly about each and every day. I also know that more often than not, things don't go as planned.  Therefore, it's good to always have a backup or be quick to accept it when things change.  That being said, my initial travel plans have completely changed.  Last week I got news that my travel buddy, Logan, needed to postpone our trip by 3-4 weeks. Damn grad school! At first, I thought my only options were to stay in Colorado or to head to Colombia by myself. Neither of these options I liked.

It turns out that three of my guy friends (Sam, Anson, and Nate) from Alaska are planning to head to Chile/Argentina to ski for 3 weeks the exact day I was planning to head to Colombia.  Until this point, I had thought it was a shame we would all be in South America at the same time but completely miss each other.  I can't even count how many times people asked if I was bringing my skis. I, disappointedly, would shake my head and explain, "No, not this time. Someday, though."  With Logan's change in plans, I started looking into joining Sam, Nate, and Anson for a few weeks in September and then heading to Colombia.  Switching my flights and figuring out how to make it work was very easy.  I could use Alaska air miles to get from Denver to Santiago, and then fly Santiago to Cartagena, Colombia at the end of September.  This would work better with Logan's timing and I would be able to travel with my best friend, Miss Katy White, in Colombia on her way back from the Galapagos.  PERFECT!

I accepted very quickly that a few weeks of skiing would add a large cost to my overall trip, but when else do you have 3 good friends offering you a spot on their ski trip to South America (I'm gonna say never...)
So here's to going with the flow and accepting a plan B (a VERY awesome plan B).

CHEERS!
-LP

Sam and I at Portage Glacier this spring 

Anson and Sam, my ski buddies and soon to be South America travel companions! 

CANNOT WAIT TO SEE THIS GIRL!!! (Katy, on the right, in the mullet... and yes, I'm dressed as a banana)

déjà vu in the most peculiar sense

It’s the strangest form of déjà vu. Not the kind where you’ve been there before physically, but the kind where you’ve been there before mentally and emotionally. The two situations were thousands of miles apart but the similarities striking.  

The first: I had just graduated college, May 2009.  I had given myself 3 days to drive from Spokane to Colorado and get on a plane to Africa for the summer.  Of course, I had overbooked myself.  I was alone, in the old Jeep, Sparky, leaving one life to start the next.  My car was packed to the roof with everything I owned. I was heading home. Through my speakers played Swahili lessons in prep for the next few months I would spend in Kenya.  Alone, I spoke out loud, not ashamed to miss pronounce or mess up.  Responding and repeating.  "Habari gani?" My mind racing with thoughts of college, everything I needed to do in the next 3 days, how much gas I had left. "Nzuri, asante." Could I make it to Sheridan? I was anxious. So anxious.  Leaving behind the entire life that I knew and going back home to Boulder to start grad school the next fall.  Was I ready? What was I doing? "Nafahamu kiswahili kidogo." Why did I feel so unsettled? Ugh, I'm tired. Can I make it to the next town? "Mimi ni mwamerica." I need to pee. "Na wewe?"

The second: Monday August 5th, 2013.  It was my first official day of unemployment in my adult life.  I had just quit my job and enjoyed a celebratory weekend filled with music and friends at Salmonstock Music Festival in Ninilchik, Alaska.  I was driving home, back to Anchorage.  My Xterra packed to the roof with a weekend's worth of camp gear, coolers, hoola hoops, and festival wear.  Through my speakers came Spanish lessons in preparation for the next few months I would spend in South America.  Loud, windows down.  Spitting cherry seeds out as I responded to the Spanish speakers questions. "Son las siete y cuarto."  My mind felt clear but that unsettled feeling was still there. I only have a quarter tank.  Can I make it to Soldotna? "Tienes tiempo a comer?" I wonder where my sleeping pad is. Will I need it on my trip? "Tengo viente minutos." Should I try to see him before I leave? Do I want to?  "Que hora es?" Will I be able to sell my car? Holy shit, my car is a mess! My mind overloaded with a to-do list a thousand feet long.  Everything that needed to get done to make a smooth transition from a life in Anchorage to a life on the move.  Prepping for a climbing trip and months living out of a backpack.  "Que queires beber?" Cancel insurance.  Buy plane tickets.  "Me gusta la cerveza." Well ain't that the truth!? 

It was the feeling of being alone.  In every sense.  The feeling of complete control and complete and utter uncertainty.  The anxiety that encompasses your entire being and that can't be explained.  I should feel relieved right?  Months of tests and studying were over; reports and deadlines all gone, put to rest.  Complete freedom.  The feeling of escaping a life you love and maybe aren't ready to leave.  But also, knowing you need to get away.  It's time.  The idea that you may be able to get over someone if you could just. drive. far. enough...  The excitement and fear of the unknown and all that would happen in the coming weeks.  That feeling that you need everything to just   s   l   o   w     d   o   w  n,  but at the same time you can't wait for it to start.  

This is where I am.  This is where I have been.  It feels all too similar.  It's an awkwardly comfortable place for me.  And I'm not trying to fight it.  

These days of transition will slip by.  Everything that needs to get done, will get done.  

And I will start the next chapter.  

Twendi! 

Vamos!