Trying to fit a small pile into smaller pack

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.

Down to the Wire

We are officially homeless and jobless with about a week and a half before departure. We have successfully (we think) consolidated our lives to a few boxes of personal belongings that should sustain our existence for the next 11 months. The question that has no answer is: how do you pack for a year-long hiatus? If you're Shanon, you buy things, see how those things look with other things, take some things back, and start all over--a smart approach to try and pack right. If you're Jared, you procrastinate, like usual, buy a few mismatched items and hope for the best.

We've also been immunized to most known forms of disease that exist in a 3rd world country. After multiple visits to the health department for vaccinations, inoculations, prescriptions, and a half dozen or more painful pricks to the upper arm, we realized that besides packing personal belongings we would probably have to set aside 1/4 of our backpack space just for meds. Us westerners and our modern medicine.

The overall experience has been anything BUT pleasant with the people at the SL Valley Health Department. Besides acting extremely put out by the size of our itinirary, the nurse who we met with was 1) Not at all friendly and 2) Not at all helpful. In fact, we almost felt more confused, and definitely more angry after we left--thanks in part to the hefty price tag. Our recommendation for those with global travel ambitions is to take your business elsewhere. The uneducated, unhelpful and unfriendly staff at the SLVHD does not deserve your business. Grrrrr....

Anyway, as the 3rd of September quickly approaches the magnitude of this trip is starting to feel very real, and a tad bit overwhelming. What have we done? Where will we end up? Only time will tell.

It seems like only yesterday this was all a pipe dream. T-minus 9 days to the biggest reality check of our lives (and more interesting things to talk about than my discontent with the health department).