Um, Ok. I keep reading what those "wisened" ones who have gone before say, and I quote: "Pack what you actually need and then take out half."
To this I say, Bah! How in the world and that hot place below am I supposed to take out half of what I have packed so far. Meaning, do I cut the only pair of shorts in two and just take one leg? Do I only take half of my malaria pills and hope for the best?!
Warning, the next statment may have a bit of a stereotype involved. For a woman, I can pack small. Amazingly small and I am all the more happy when I can leave behind the blowdryer, the lipstick and the patent leather heels. I am in my happiest state when I am out in the middle of nowhere with no fashion police in site. With that said, I really don't think that the small ant hill of a pile that now sits on my mothers guest bed is a lot to pack for a whole year of travel. Nothing in my measly pile is of the sort that would be considered frivolus. No jeans, heaven forbid cotton, and absolutely no belts, bags or anything else that may add an element of style to this wardrobe that consists mainly of a polyester and nylon mix.
So, I catch myself staring at my pile. Hoping that if I win this staring contest, my pile will magically shrink or my pack will manage to grow just enough to allow that 4th pair of socks that could be so warm on our Pategonia trek. Still staring, I guess this is all part of the adventure; to leave it all behind while seeking a quieter more simple life (at least for the time being). So tomorrow I will re-arrange the pile yet again to see what half stays and what half is packed into my small, 3700 cubic inch mobile home. The home that will be carried on my back day after day, town after town. Tomorrow, I will attempt, once again, to remove the half that I need but don't get to take. Oh, parting is such sweet sorrow.
To this I say, Bah! How in the world and that hot place below am I supposed to take out half of what I have packed so far. Meaning, do I cut the only pair of shorts in two and just take one leg? Do I only take half of my malaria pills and hope for the best?!
Warning, the next statment may have a bit of a stereotype involved. For a woman, I can pack small. Amazingly small and I am all the more happy when I can leave behind the blowdryer, the lipstick and the patent leather heels. I am in my happiest state when I am out in the middle of nowhere with no fashion police in site. With that said, I really don't think that the small ant hill of a pile that now sits on my mothers guest bed is a lot to pack for a whole year of travel. Nothing in my measly pile is of the sort that would be considered frivolus. No jeans, heaven forbid cotton, and absolutely no belts, bags or anything else that may add an element of style to this wardrobe that consists mainly of a polyester and nylon mix.
So, I catch myself staring at my pile. Hoping that if I win this staring contest, my pile will magically shrink or my pack will manage to grow just enough to allow that 4th pair of socks that could be so warm on our Pategonia trek. Still staring, I guess this is all part of the adventure; to leave it all behind while seeking a quieter more simple life (at least for the time being). So tomorrow I will re-arrange the pile yet again to see what half stays and what half is packed into my small, 3700 cubic inch mobile home. The home that will be carried on my back day after day, town after town. Tomorrow, I will attempt, once again, to remove the half that I need but don't get to take. Oh, parting is such sweet sorrow.
2 comments:
What a funny, visual first chapter of the travel book you will be writing. See you Monday, Dad
Okay guys, the goodbye's are over! Let the adventure begin!!!
Love and hugs to you both accross the miles.
Mare and Joseph
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