An Introspective Trip...

“Think! How the hell are you going to think and hit at the same time?”

Yogi Berra

Lately I’ve been thinking too much. Not so much about the present as much as my future. A few months ago, I blogged that 2019 will be a year of changes. Lots of them. 

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2018/11/ch-ch-changes.html

This will be the year, I’ll settle down. Sort of grow up. It’s time. 

Back to the Present temporarily: 

Lately the psychotic Aussie weather has received my attention. The constant force has been wind and heaps of it. I’m not talking a Seals and Croft “Summer Breeze.” There’s been some full-on rock a cabin gales. The type of wind that knocks down thick, healthy looking trees. A class of wind that makes my brain go turtle-like into its shell. It doesn’t help that I’ve noticed a visual famine of single people making the rounds. What I’ve known for decades in coming front and center. Its a couples or family oriented world. Even Down Under.

When a well meaning Aussie now asks me if I’m traveling alone, my first thought is, “Why don’t you throw some kosher salt on that festering wound!”

 

But I don’t say that. I look down at my feet and embarrassingly say, “Yes.” 

Then those well meaning Aussies change the subject.

“Life Is What Happens to You While You’re Busy Making Other Plans”

John Lennon

I’m a planner. I have to be. Without a daily regime, I’d be the proverbial rudderless ship. I need a reason to drink my coffee and get going in the morning.  I require a rudimentary schedule. 

So...presently with an injured knee (maybe a torn meniscus) which will eventually require a surgeon, my plans of hiking in the Australian National Parks, backpacking the Grand Canyon, more hikes in Zion, Canyonlands and the UK are now in the wait-and-see mode. My mind wants to play but the body is rebelling. I’m not thrilled about this.

“Someone to watch over me.”

Ella Fitzgerald 

This is when my over caffeinated mind starts to rebel too. I’m no stranger to waking up in an post-operating room. After the release forms have been signed, a family member or friend picks me up from the surgery center. Eventually, I get deposited into an empty house. That’s when I fully understand what it is to be alone. In the past, I’ve been forced to pick up the pace of recovery. I drive my Physical Therapists nuts. I want the bad times to go away. I don’t want to dwell more than I have to about my social situation or lack of it.

A scenario like the above is for a mere orthopedic injury. What would happen if something really backfires in me? I’m no youngster anymore!

No one wants to grow old alone.

This is why (after the UK trip), I’ll put a tentative hold on International travel. 

I’m burnt out on people asking me if I’m traveling alone. 

From cold, windy and rainy Mansfield, Victoria

Wasn’t it supposed to be summer here?

Jeff 

Lastly an introspective song from Toad the Wet Sprocket. 

Walk on the Ocean

We spotted the ocean at the head of the trail
Where are we going, so far away
And somebody told me that this is the place
Where everything's better, everything's safe

Walk on the ocean
Step on the stones
Flesh becomes water
Wood becomes bone

And half an hour later we packed up our things
We said we'd send letters and all those little things
And they knew we were lying but they smiled just the same
It seemed they'd already forgotten we'd came
Now we're back at the homestead
Where the air makes you choke
And people don't know you
And trust is a joke

We don't even have pictures
Just memories to hold
That grow sweeter each season
As we slowly grow old

Humanity’s Quest for that

Iconic Selfie.

In Australia’s summer of 2014, I decided to forgo bicycle riding the Great Ocean Road. Instead I chose to amble the Great Ocean Walk. 

Back then, I hired Pete to shuttle me from trailheads and accommodations for five days. He charged me A$450 in cash. Pete was meticulous about his timing. His pickups and drop offs were spot on. His didn’t charge extra for weather forecasts, gear storage or transfers, sound advice or entertainment. 

On one particularly windy morning, he admonished me not to walk the beaches that day. “I won’t be able to pick you up in Antarctica if a rogue wave sweeps you away!” 

Pete’s shuttle service was a steal. 

This time I had the World’s smallest car rental. I wanted to do a few day hikes along the GOW. I emailed a shuttle service about a drop off at a trailhead. Cost for a nine mile hike back to my sedan? A$120. (If I spent that sort of money each time I hiked, I would be living full time in my van down by the river by now.) I said thanks, but no thanks. 

Something changed.

I checked accommodations in the Great Ocean Road’s western entry town. Port Campbell motels were not only booked out for the whole month of February, the costs were Andromeda Galaxy sky high. 

My WW J senses screamed out the answer, “The Tour Bus Crowd discovered the Great Ocean Road!” 

With that thought in mind, I lit out from the affordable housing town of Warrnambool at first light.  It was so early the only place open to catch a “flat white and hot cakes” was Maccas. ( Aussie speak for MacDonald’s. ) 

I caught a front row spot at the Twelve Apostles parking lot. (Upon my return, the lot was full. There were three attendants directing traffic too). I headed out with a delicious morning sun for photos. There were only a few humans around. With the help of a friendly couple, I scored my iconic selfie of the eight Apostles. (There never was twelve. ) I dawdled a bit, but then noticed an increase of humanity. It was time for me to walk east on the Great Ocean Walk. 

Let me say this about the GOW. You don’t actually see the ocean all that much. Although even a deaf guy like me can hear the soothing white noise of the waves. Oftentimes, you walk through tunnels of bush land. Not very scenic, but high scores for solitude. I went east a respectable way and started back to my sedan. 

Overhead helicopters were gouging passengers of their money, while horseflies were gorging on the walkers below. By this time there were plenty of meals available for the biting swarms. However these hikers weren’t carrying backpacks or water. They were clinging onto cell phones for upcoming selfies. They were well coiffed and recently showered. The women were making fashion statements. Some carried parasols to block the scorching no ozone Aussie sun.  Many were wearing inappropriate footwear. They were the Nouveau Riche Chinese Nationals I had recently read about!

My tour bus assumption was correct. According to the article, many Chinese are willing to pay up to A$1000/night to be chauffeured, pampered, placed in better than average accommodations and fed non-pub grub meals. They probably were guaranteed high speed WiFi to upload their selfies on Facebook too. (Chinese visitors rank number two in Australia. They will quickly surpass the Kiwis if the trends continue). 

To give my readers a frame of reference, I’m spending around A$200/day including the care and feeding of the world’s smallest rental car. I sleep in budget cabins in caravan parks where I have to deploy chemical warfare on thousands of unwanted squatters. (An ant infestation.) My lunches are PB & boysenberry sandwiches. My teas (Aussie speak for dinners) are takeaway Asian food, fish and chips or pub meals of chicken parmi. AKA parmigiana. I’m definitely not starving. 

Now I’ll get to my point, (finally). Many of the World’s iconic places are now approachable by motor vehicles. IE: Twelve Apostles, Machu Picchu, Yosemite Valley, the Maroon Bells of Colorado, Crater Lake, Grand Canyon and the fiords of Milford Sound to name a few. With very little effort or discomfort people are scoring those show-the-world-I’ve-been-there pictures. 

So the pretty places are getting more crowded. This has been a constant lament of my blog. Remember Genesis 1:28? That’s the “be fruitful and multiply, and fill the Earth and subdue it” part of the Old Testament. Maybe humanity is doing too good a job of performing God’s well intentioned suggestions. Our mere presence is polluting the places we love. 

Ahh, but if you are willing to do the sweat labor to get to scenic areas, there’s still heaps of beauty out there. You will probably have to wear appropriate footwear though. 

On another theme. By now many of you are thinking, “Jeff! How’s your knee?”

So I’ll tell you. It’s no bueno. They say denial is more than a River in Egypt. I decided to finally go to the source of all knowledge. I Googled signs and symptoms of a torn meniscus. I checked off pain, swelling, snap, crackles and pops ETC. 

BINGO! 

I scored them all. Eventually, I will require a surgery to repair this problem.

On a positive note, recently I sold a paperback copy of my book to someone in Denmark. For this I was paid 89 cents. That should help defray the cost of the inevitable surgery.

Here’s the book link:

 

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B006VXRMUG?keywords=Jeff%20Sambur&qid=1447125667&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1b

Better than donating to a GoFundMe. At least you’ll receive an IPPY Gold Medal Award Winning book. (Available on Kindle too). 

Happy Chinese New Year.

It’s the year of the pig, which is appropriate for my coming months of sloth.

Cheers from stormy Apollo Bay, Victoria 

Jeff 

An Aussie Trip like no

other. 

I’ve been traveling to Australia since the pre “Crocodile Dundee” year of 1986. Currently this is my sixth time Down Under. I guess you can say I like it here. In my past journeys, I’ve brought along a “push bike.” (Aussie-speak for bicycle). It was my primary mode of transportation, exercise and entertainment. 

In the Aussie summer of 2013/2014 I brought a push bike once again. On a personal note, it was post July 11th, 2011. The date where I came so close to being an ex-Wandering Wondering Jew. The day I nearly got killed while riding my bicycle. 

Read all about it: 

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2018/07/maybe-i-believe-in-god.html

During that five month stay, I tested the tire pressure to see if I was still willing to share space with speeding sedans, trucks and motorcycles. The answer turned out to be “NO!” When I boxed my bike in Adelaide at the end of the tour, I knew my passion for cycling had been heaved into a dustbin. I was done. 

One door closes, another one opens. 

Now instead of two tires to get around, I use two legs. (One with a dodgy knee). For the first time Down Under I’m renting a sedan as my primary mode of wandering to arrive at places to hike, sleep, Happy Hour and eat. 

I rented the World’s smallest car. Its a luxury item compared to living out of two bike panniers and a small duffle bag. I now have space  for a used coffee maker and coffee, extra food, recently purchased T-shirts and shorts and a slab (Aussie speak for a case) of tasty locally brewed IPA. I’m living large. 

As far as the knee goes. I’m feeling helpless as my fitness level goes south while my girth goes north. I tried lying low in Hobart, Tasmania in order to rest it. I practiced being a tourist. I visited the Royal Tasmanian Botanical Gardens (Two Thumbs Up!), the Maritime Museum (don’t waste a schooner’s worth of beer on this one), the Mawson’s Hut replica from his 1912 Antarctic Expedition (Outstanding) and my favorite the Hobart Brewery. 

Quick story about the brewery. I walked in after a BUSY day of touristing. I glanced at the beer list. I blinked. FYIPA! That’s my go to IPA from Boulder, Colorado’s Mountain Sun brewery. Next to it was a decal from Mountain Sun. I just happened to be wearing my Mountain Sun Brewery T shirt. That garment was worth a few shouts, (Aussie speak for a free round). Turns out a brewer from Mountain Sun (Scott) immigrated to Tasmania. 

BTW. He’s still creating great beers. 

It’s a small world, but you wouldn’t want to paint it.

Back to the knee. It’s still not right. I’ve had a few readers give me referrals for a Doctor. They say one of his treatments would take care of all my problems. There would be no need for a second opinion. They assure me he’d be the last physician I’d ever see.

His name? Doctor Kevorkian.

Why am I so nervous about my appointment?

From Portland, Victoria (birthplace of the winds),

Cheers,

Jeff