The "Problem" With Wanderlust (aka Mental Health Break 2017)

I was thinking the other day about my childhood and how I got to be where I am today... scheming about applying for a scholarship to bikepack the 1700 mile Baja Divide.

I was mail-ordered by a nice American family from South Korea when I was nearly 2 years old.  I don't actually know how old I am because I wasn't born in a hospital and I'm not entirely sure how I ended up at the orphanage in Seoul.  All I know is that I was born in Pusan.  My family struggled sometimes growing up, but I don't think I even realized that until I was older.  Most of my clothes were thrift store finds and vacations were spent running amuck in my neighborhood rather than traveling afar.  I don't ever remember being hungry, but I do remember learning how my mother would throw together meals from the bits and ends in the fridge to make sure we didn't waste any food.  We snuck snacks into the movie theater so we wouldn't have to pay the exorbitant prices.  Family dinner happened every night and was cooked by my mother.  Arby's would have a 5 for $5 deal on roast beef sandwiches and we would bring them home for our family of five instead of going out to eat.  Kids in my neighborhood went to college nearby, married their high school sweethearts, and moved back close to home to be near their parents.  Welcome to middle class midwest America.  Bill Bryson would have loved to do a portrait of our family.

Ermerghaaaaa! So cute. I still look EXACTLY the same.

Somewhere in all that normalcy, I felt out of place... maybe because I was a Korean adoptee in a white community, or maybe because I could sense there was more to life than what media told us we should care about.  Much of my youth was spent exploring the fringes, reading philosophy, drawing, writing depressing poetry, playing chess in coffee shops, and smoking cigarettes.  My mother taught ESL and was more worldly than most in our small Michigan community.  All I knew was I needed to leave and see the world.  So I studied Spanish in high school, got a degree international affairs in college, somehow found myself in law school, and spent most of my time trying to afford plane tickets to anywhere but here.  

My late-20s were a blur of 80 hour work weeks and desperately trying to balance my stark office life by throwing myself over waterfalls in rafts, jumping out of airplanes, dancing salsa until the wee hours of the morning, biking until my legs gave up, and hiking into the middle of nowhere.  

Fast forward to today.  I'm in my mid-30s living in Bend, Oregon having left behind the corporate life to bike the world and otherwise find my place in the mountains and remote corners of the world.  Interestingly, the simple yet rich life I live is possible on my non-profit salary because of skills I learned in my youth... no food left wasted, foraging local fruit and mushrooms, cooking all my meals from scratch, exploring the mountains in my backyard...  I dance the fine line between satiating my "looks good on paper former lawyer" self, my "holy crap how am I not dead outdoors junkie" self, and my relatively new "fist-shaking social activist domestic violence advocate" self.  I will be the first to admit that I lead a privileged life.  Yes, I made decisions that allowed me to live life on my own terms, but I also was raised by a supportive family that instilled a quiet confidence in me that I could do whatever I set my mind to.  I'm not sure they understand why I do what I do, but they trust that it's making me happy and that's all they care about.

So much better than working on weekends...

It's been about three years since I came back from my bike tour across Mexico.  I've settled into my new life in Bend working at my local domestic violence and sexual assault organization as the bilingual advocate.  I don't talk much about my personal experience being a survivor of domestic violence, but lately, I've been realizing that I don't serve this world much if I stay silent.  As a survivor, the most rewarding part of my work is empowering other survivors.  As a recovering attorney, I relish the proactive self-care policy of my non-profit organization.  I only work 35 hours a week and get more vacation than I know what to do with.  Lately, I have been feeling burned out... not by the survivors I work with, but by the systems I have to fight every day and vicarious trauma is a real thing.  I know that I need to press the reset button and have been struggling to figure out what that is, where to do, and when. 

That's when my roommate and good friend Stuart forwarded me the link to the Baja Divide route.  I had this on my radar because I really like to read about the adventures of Lael Wilcox, one of the badass amazing female cyclists out there.  She is truly an inspiration to explore outside the lines.  I didn't actually go to the website until one evening when I was feeling particularly gloomy about the state of human respect and dignity.  Stuart was on a post-bike tour melancholic low.  And then I saw it.  The scholarship.  A free bike, free gear, and $1000 to fund a woman to ride the Baja Divide.  I ran to my room and pulled out my Baja maps and books and that giddy feeling in the pit of my stomach was born.  "Stu!"  I yelled.  "Stuuuuuu."  I showed him the website for the scholarship.  "Dude," he said, "this is you."  After pouring over the website with a few sips of whiskey, we shook on it.  I would apply and if I got it, Stuart would come with me to bike the Baja Divide.

I left these for Stuart to peruse so he couldn't refuse...

It has been far too long since I was this excited about something.  Maybe I had this to a small degree when I was preparing for the Idaho Hot Springs route.  Who knows.  The stars feel like they are aligning.  My boss, who is a like a den mother to our staff, saw the scholarship and said "of course, this is you."  She also already approved two months off for me to do this... just in case.  That's how much confidence she has.  So here's to making this happen!

A Walk Down Memory Lane

Even though I rarely make resolutions at the New Year, I always take time to reflect on the year.  2013 was certainly a doozy but will always mark the year that all the hard work finally paid off.  I quit my BigLaw job, I sold all my earthly possessions, I drove cross-county and down the coast, I biked from San Diego to Cancun, I moved to Bend Oregon, I got my dream non-profit job at Saving Grace, and I find myself disgustingly content with the simplicity of life.  That's a lot of "I"s in a sentence, but these are all accomplishments that I can look back on and say that yes "I" made it happen.

So to commemorate this landmark year,  I made chilquiles rojos from scratch (chips and all!) for my New Years Day dinner.

NOM.  I did not earn this by biking.

It also turns out that my cycling partner finally got the first installment of his photos edited on New Years Day.  Unlike myself, Gonzalo actually takes the time to piece together beautiful panoramas and manually edit each of his photos.  His design background is evident in the composition and quality of his photography.  To see his full Baja California album, go HERE!  I've put a few of my favorites for you lazy bums who don't want to click through.

The vastness of the Baja California desert is beautiful (photo credit: Gonzalo).

Dirt road detour to get into and out of town (photo credit: Gonzalo).

Desert colors (photo credit: Gonzalo).

Bombing down the Cuesta del Infierno (photo credit; Gonzalo).

In other news, the wonderful thing about my new job is the completely reasonable 35-hour work week, flexible work schedule, and huge amounts of vacation that I'm able to accrue.  I'm already scheming weekend bikepacking trips...

A Few Reflections And The Mexico Cycling Map

So of course, like any normal person, I decided I needed to take a vacation from my vacation after my vacation, so my time has been split between "chilling out" in Seattle (aka car shopping, mountain bike shopping, and planning trips to Oregon, Washington DC, and Moab) and a whirlwind trip to the Tuolumne Meadows side of Yosemite National Park, fires be damned.

Sometimes its worth exploring your own backyard.

Sunset views of the fire.

Yup, and that's why we go to Yosemite.

I could spend hours carefully crafting some deep thoughts about bike touring and life, the universe, and everything, but there's too much going on and too much to look forward to for me to sit in front of this computer for too long.

So in no particular order, some thoughts and random factoids about this trip:

• My handsome steed's tires survived without a single flat!

• I lost a total of 12 pounds, though, I'm guessing I lost closer to 15 pounds of fat and put back on 3 pounds of muscle.  This was more than 10% of my weight and I had a very hard time keeping the weight on during this trip, sometimes forcing myself to eat even when I wasn't hungry.  I suffered athletic amenorrhea for the entire duration of the trip and am currently trying to put on some lean muscle to remedy this, though my metabolism is still on overdrive

• I already miss the vast amounts of affordable fruit in Mexico, but I'm so happy to have a real selection of vegetables and red wine again.

• Some questions I would ask a future cycling partner that I did not think to ask this time would include ones about sleeping patterns (or, are you an early riser, a mid-day napper, etc.), ones about social tendencies (or, are you an introvert, an extrovert, a mix), and ones about cycling style (or, do you prefer to just crush out the miles and have extended stops, or cycle more leisurely with many short stops).

• Recently, someone asked me what my big takeaway from this trip was.  My answer was that it was the best "palette cleanser" ever from my years working in BigLaw.  But really, it was more than that.  It was a way for me to actively think about what it is I want out of life... all those hours on the bike let you talk yourself in circles until maybe, just maybe, you arrive to a point.

• It feels so good to be connected with my friends and family again... within days of my return, schemes of epic road trips, mountain bike festivals, and wedding shenanigans came my way.  I feel more strongly than ever that life is about people, not just adventure for the sake of adventure. 

• Surprisingly, I don't miss the bike tour... not yet at least.  Maybe it's because I have so many exciting plans on the horizon, including a bikepacking trip of White Rim Road in Canyonlands, but I feel like I'm home.

• Unsurprisingly, I'm scheming my next bike tour already... Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia?  Great Divide?  The possibilities are endless and I'm stoked.

This is a map of approximately where I bike  in Mexico.  It may not be exact at times if a dirt road was not recognized by Googlina or I just didn't double-check the GPS track (if you want the GPS track, please send me a message and I'll bug my cycling partner for it).

PART I


View The Kung Fu Cycling Map in a larger map


PART II


View The Kung Fu Cycling Map in a larger map

Days 141 Through 143: Cancun To Seattle

All good things must come to an end... or so goes the saying.  I say that's a load of crap.  One good thing leads to another, I had an amazing bike tour of the real Mexico from top to bottom, and I wouldn't trade any of the experiences I had for the world.  It ended at just the right time... I was excited to see my family and move on, and at the same time, I was already thinking about the next trip and the next adventure.

Disassembly and packing the bike for the long flight home.

All boxed up!

Gonzalo and his dad, also named Gonzalo!  We had an awesome time at the new planetarium in Cancun!

Clearly, getting our picture taken with the "don't bring these things on the plane" guy was the best and most fitting last photo of the trip! 

Kudos to Airtrain / Southwest for being extremely bike friendly.  Their advertised $75 charge for the bike box was the same as for any other overweight or oversized luggage, and they did not try to double charge me or give me any grief for having packed some luggage into the bike box.  At 77 pounds, my bike box was far from light!  They also went above and beyond the call of duty when I arrived in Chicago with a wet disintegrating bike box... they radioed up from customs to alert the checkin that I would be zooming up there, and they were ready to go with a huge packing tape dispenser and helped me mend my box for the second leg of my trip.  Karma was on my side as I had great company on the flight... the conversation was so engaging I didn't have time to be worried about the box.

Plenty of time for a pre-flight drink, even with some last minute shopping and having to find the receipt for my tourist card for customs (by the way, keep that sucker in your passport with your tourist card if you do a land crossing and give it to the airline people when you check in to avoid the "Leeeeaaaaann Ohhhnneeeeiiill please come to gate 5."

Amazing sunset from the plane.

Thanks to the lovely folks at the Midway Southwest counter and well, uh, TSA, it basically made it!  Thanks to my big brother for picking me up at the airport and helping me lug this mess around.

I'll TSA credit for taking the time to actually tape it up really well.

It feels good to be home... I'm too busy relaxing and enjoying my family, but I'm sure some deep thoughts and ramblings about my takeaways from this trip will follow in the not-too-distant future.  

Days 135 Through 140: Isla Holbox

As much as I enjoy having company while traveling, it felt luxurious to be on my own for the first few days on Isla Holbox.  Just 21 square miles, this island has been the perfect place for me to unwind from my bike tour.  Slowly but surely, I've taken to island life, where a good day means I've chatted over my morning coffee with other travelers on the terrace until I decide it's time for my daily swim.  Then maybe, just maybe, I'll do something productive, like heading to the fruit market to pick up a snack for later.  I can't remember the last time I put on my flip flops.  I'm told that makes me official.  I've even contemplated the possibility of coming back to work at the hostel and give salsa lessons.

The days here have passed by in a blur of sun, sea, sand, whale sharks, flamingos, and lots of dancing.  The Milky Way winks at me as I play with the bioluminescent plankton each night.  A fleeting but beautifully romantic evening with a kindred spirit proves that I've moved on from the past.  And even though I was not interested, I was flattered by the attention given to me by the handsome local massage therapist here, whose moves are straight out of some cheesy romance novel and clearly practiced on many female tourists here.

Cloudy bike ride on the "roads" here... no pavement anywhere on the island, just compacted sand.

My daily swim spot.

Tribu Hostel organizes nightly activities for the guests... this particular night featured a drum circle which led to a night of sweaty afro-cuban dancing on my part.

Ah paradise... just a short bike ride out to where the flamingos hang out at the end of the island.

Early morning wake-up call for the flamingos flying out to their feeding grounds and for sleepy travelers heading out to swim with the whale sharks.

Vereda and Daniel from Germany... we had a lot of fun discovering the glowing plankton together.

Whale sharks are big.  Very big.  They sneak up on you in the water and all of a sudden, you have a huge (harmless) gaping mouth in your face.

On the way back in, we saw another group of whale sharks that had a few giant mantas in tow.

The good life.

Our guide was also an expert maker of ceviche.

So much deliciousness.

The mangroves.

Hanging out in the mangroves.

Paradise found.

These guys dart around your toes as you wade in the mangroves.

Time to head back for a long nap.

My new buddy for the night.

Sunset from the roof of the hostel... if only the mosquitos weren't enjoying the sunset, too.

Sometimes, a little giant Jenga is all you need to wind down the night.  For the record, I lost, but I blame the wine.  It was a valiant battle at least.

Farewell photo fun... Catharina became our Holbox partner-in-crime for the week, including cooking up some awesome quesadillas with a local green called chaya.  Gonzalo shows us who is the quesadilla boss!

Days 133 Through 134: Cancun To Isla Holbox

Oh Cancun.  Until now, I only ever knew the airport from which I made a bee line for the first bus out of Cancun.  But since Gonzalo's dad lives there and my flight leaves from Cancun, I figured I would make the best of my time there.  The nice thing is that Gonzalo's dad lives in the outskirts of Cancun town, far far far away from the Hooters and Señor Frogs in the Zona Hotalera, the infamous destination for Spring Breakers.  Out there, you forget you are in Cancun and it feels like any other small town in Mexico.  Gonzalo and I decided to do the poor man's tour of Cancun by hopping on the bus which takes you into the center and then down into the land of "it's 8 am, why are you not drunk yet."

The one public beach in the Zona Hotalera that does not have a monstrous hotel blocking its view... these are the famous blue waters that made Cancun what it is today.

Smack dab in the middle of the Zona Hotalera is a very fancy IKEA-looking museum... it was very well put together and probably the most informative museum I visited with respect to the Maya culture.

Hidden behind the museum is the tiny and unimpressive archeological site San Miguelito.  It was a nice getaway from the rest of the tourists as I was the ONLY person wandering around it.  That is, me and the huge iguana.

A mountain biker from Toluca recommended a bike shop to us where we went to chat with the guys there and get some bike boxes for the trip back home.  The bus driver didn't even really bat an eye when we lugged the boxes on board.

We had planned to spend just one day in Cancun and then bike to the ferry to Isla Holbox for a week of rest n' relaxation on the chilled out Isla Holbox.  Unfortunately, Gonzalo fell sick and so I left him in his dad's care and headed out on my own, hoping that a few days rest would allow him to come out and meet me.  I thought it might take me two days to bike the 150 km Google told me the route would be, but not only was the route a bit shorter, flat roads and no winds meant that I hauled ass in time to make the 7 pm ferry with time to spare.

Lunch in Leona Vicario... I crave veggies a lot in Mexico, mostly because they don't really eat them here.  I've found the only commonly found dish in Mexico that has a lot of veggies are the beef and chicken caldos.  This one was particularly good, with huge chunks of carrots, pumpkin, and squash.

The empty flat cloudy road to the port of Chiquilá.

I was dodging several of these guys... not sure why there were so many of them on the road.

My bike is on a boat... again!

The 7 pm ferry ride was amazing as we set out just as the sun was setting.

Not too shabby.

Dodging flooded "potholes" and mosquitos, I headed straight for the Tribu Hostal, which I had discovered from a flyer at Hostal Akumal in San Cristóbal de las Casas that bike tourists get a 25% discount.  A welcome lollipop and a shower later, I settled into the on-site bar for a night of great conversation and live music.

A few travel notes for bike tourists:

• The road isn't particularly interesting between Cancun and Chiquilá unless you keep a close eye on the road (for lots of tarantulas) or on the trees (for the dozens of cool birds, including quetzales).  It is well signed and has enough small towns that you don't need to worry about food or water, but http://tribuhostel.com/location-here.html gives a nice description of what to expect.  This is easy riding, especially when it's cloudy.  

• The ferry costs 80 pesos and they charged me 25 pesos for the bike.  There are smaller faster boats that try to get you to hire them, but I'm not sure I'd trust my bike on them. 

• Tribu Hostal (http://tribuhostel.com/) is awesome.  They run a tight ship, they anticipate all the things you would want from a hostal, the kitchen is amazing, the dorms spacious, the common areas comfy, the on-site bar sociable and it actually closes at a reasonable time, and the air-conditioned dorm is incredibly affordable.  They program something interesting every evening, from live music to giant jenga, and this shoutout to cyclists clinched the deal:  "For you crazy people, the directions are the same as for the car. Just remember that cycling by night on Mexican roads can be dangerous, with some crazy drivers! You’ll also get a 25% of discount, just because we admire you!"

Days 130 Through 132: Palenque To Chetumal To Bacalar

As the clock ticks down and the end of this particular chapter of my post-BigLaw adventures comes to a close, it's time for a bit of relaxation, sun, water, n' beaches... to have a vacation from my vacation.  It's a hard knock life.  We bid goodbye to Chiapas and headed to the bus station to take an overnight bus from Palenque to Chetumal.  From there, we groggily biked 40 km to the Laguna de Bacalar, an area not only entrenched in the true history of the pirates of the Caribbean, but may very well be the most beautiful turquoise blue lake in the world.

Sun rises as we cycle from the bus station to Bacalar.

Sixth flat of the trip.  This one was a doozy since Gonzalo rode over something that ripped a huge hole into tire.

Seventh flat of the trip, just minutes later.

And I thought my bike was heavy for my size.

A quick stop at the Cenote Azul on the way in.  It's a bit touristy, but a nice place for a dip.

Once upon a time, when Gonzalo was a wee lad, he used to come to the Laguna de Bacalar with his dad to visit a family friend.  Even though the family friend had since passed away, Gonzalo was curious to see the property again, so he knocked on the door to see if he could peek around.  Turns out that the family friend's daughter Leda lives there now with her partner Lupita.  We were welcomed with open arms to come in, treated to a lovely breakfast and then invited to stay.

The whole crew with only half the resident dogs.

An essential for beer drinkers who travel to Mexico... I knew I was going to get along with Leda and Lupita when I saw this amongst their cookbooks and wine guides in their bookshelf.  In fact, I may just need to come back to do a beer brewing workshop with them when the weather cools down a bit.

Luis.  Kind of like a man-child who doesn't talk and enjoys snuggling.

View from the porch... a lil bit o' paradise.

Gonzalo does his best beach modeling pose.

And now for an unblemished view.

Sunset from our balcony.

The fort built to protect Bacalar from pirates.

Pirates like this awesome guy... karma is a bitch, yea?

A few travel notes:

For anyone looking for an amazing bed and breakfast in this area, the room we stayed in is actually available for rent.  Since this is the only room they have for rent, you will be treated like family.  Leda and Lupita are wonderful hosts with an extensive background in the restaurant business.  We feasted on tamales made from corn that was locally grown and hand ground by them... the best tamales I have ever eaten, actually.  I highly encourage anyone who is looking for a getaway to be in touch with Leda at elrincondelvino@prodigy.net.mx and get more information at https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/1195009.