Wednesday, January 30, 2013

It's Official. Job Over in T-28 Days.

It's official.

I gave notice to my bosses today.  I thought that would be the best part about today, but my friends' support made me smile more.  


One of my best friends from law school changed his GChat status to:

Mentor grinds out for five years at a firm.  Mentor makes bank. Mentor saves and scrimps and buys her way out of debt.  Mentor gets debt free.  Mentor gets hammered on Tuesday night, quits on Wednesday and then bikes the length of the Americas.  My mentor > your mentor.
While we didn't get hammered, it's just about right.  I thought it appropriate that we ended up going to the opening night of the Banff Film Festival at the National Geographic, which features awe-inspiring adventure films about the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes (thankyouverymuchstevejobsforthequote).  They bring to life the extremes of climbing, mountain expeditions, remote cultures, and the world 's last great wild places (thankyouverymuchbanfffilmfestwebsiteforthequote).

Another good friend sent me my theme song for the day... and then suggested I go in packing heat, as in, be on fire, blaze of glory.




Not so much a blaze of glory, but I'm leaving on a high note.  

I had a lovely review, got a lovely raise, and somehow managed to make my hours for the first time so I got a lovely, if surprising, bonus.  Did I say I could travel for 4-5 years?  Add on a year or so to that number... or maybe just a little cushion so I can start my mountain biking hostel in Bolivia...

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

The Biggest Risk (Or Walking Away From My Job)

I've done a lot of supposedly "risky" things in my life.  I've thrown myself over waterfalls in a rubber raft,  jumped out of airplanes, built a balsa log raft and floated on in down the Peruvian Amazon, trekked the Lost City in Colombia, backpacked through Southeast Asia, climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro, climbed frozen waterfalls in sub-zero temperatures, among many other random adventures.  I make it a point to keep myself on the edge of my comfort zone and fully engaged in life by completing goals off of my ever-evolving bucket list.

I wish Morgan Freeman could narrate my bucket list!
My life, however, has been an exercise in an orderly and well-planned existence with bursts of "slightly insane" interspersed.  I've always had a job of some sort since high school.  I've always had a plan well before I quit each job I've ever had, whether it was a new job already lined up, or graduate school.  Every step I've taken, at least on paper, was a logical step towards a robust international law career.  Long vacations were always timed to happen logically between stages of my life, so that I never really had to ask for a leave of absence.  I survived on adventurous long weekends and vacations taken after particularly grueling deadlines.

For the first time, I will be quitting my job with no plan.  For the first time, I will be quitting my job for no reason, other than I think it's time.  I do not have to negotiate a formal sabbatical.  I do not have to hope that my bosses will understand.  I get to simply walk away.  It's a little nerve-wracking.  For the first time, I am taking a real risk.

I had intended to give notice on February 1, but I just found out that I will have my annual review on January 30th.  It only makes sense to give notice at that time.  One week.  To the day.  Holy crap.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Cross-Country Road Trippin'

One of the hallmarks of American youth is the dream of the cross-country driving trip. While this won't be on Route 66 in an old convertible with the top down and wind in my hair, it'll be pretty damn awesome. Turns out that the cost of flying out west and transporting all my earthly possessions cross country, then getting myself down to the border with Mexico, would only be marginally cheaper than renting a car. A couple hundred bucks more and I get to visit all my people in between and go play in national parks?  My likely cycling partner wants to join me in Colorado for the rest of the road trip? My my travel insurance offers rental car collision coverage? I get to the border well in advance of the killer hot days of summer? Done and done.

Five weeks.  Me.  A Car.  U.S.... Watch Out!
My itinerary looks something like this:

March 1: Pick up rental car.

  • Washington, DC
  • Cleveland, OH (Efrain B-Day)
  • Ann Arbor, MI (Katy)
  • Lansing, MI (Godparents)
  • Grand Rapids, MI (Katie and Marie)
  • Chicago, IL (Lorien)
  • Lincoln, NE
  • Boulder, CO (Kiki, Noah, and Snowboarding n' Fun Stuffs)
  • Grand Junction, CO (Lauren and Fruita MTB!)
  • Moab, UT (Arches, Canyonlands, Moab MTB!)
  • Zion National Park (Camping n' Hiking!)
  • Salt Lake City, UT
  • Boise, ID (Starry)
  • Richland, WA (Parental Units)
  • Seattle, WA (Bros and Leah)
  • Portland, WA (Kate?/Mark?)
  • Redwoods National Park (Camping and Biking!)
  • San Francisco, CA (Vik/Scott?)
  • San Diego, CA (Andy/Linda)
April 5: Drop off rental car and start BYK.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

Time Passes... Happy New Year!

It's hard to believe how fast time flies.  Is it really less than two months until I ride off into the sunset?  Just twenty-six days until I give notice?

I had a conversation with one of the senior attorneys at my office a couple days ago.  He's the only "power-that-be" who knows I'm quitting because we have a good working relationship and I couldn't lie to him when he specifically asked me how I saw my future at my law firm.  It went something like this:
"So, I just wanted to let you know that I'm giving notice on February 1st with my last day being February 28th 
"Oh, so soon." 
"Yea." 
"I don't suppose you'd consider staying on as a highly paid contract attorney working remotely until the end of this project?" 
"Um... no.  That kinda defeats the purpose of quitting." 
"You're basically the only one I want doing work for me." 
"Yea, sorry.  No.  You do realize that I had originally planned on giving notice yesterday and that me staying through February is already a concession I've made for the team, right?" 
"Oh.  That sucks."
Anyway, in other news, I tested the Troll out over the holidays on snow and ice in Riverton, West Virginia.

Ain't she sexy?  In sleek snow riding mode.

We stayed at a huge house tucked away in the mountains just a hop and skip away from all the glorious mountain bike trails and climbing to be had at Seneca Rocks and Franklin.  Of course, we ended up basically getting snowed in... but that was just fine by me.  The house was gorgeous with a true chef's kitchen, a cozy fireplace, huge plush couches, and a ton trails to explore on the property itself. 

Going down is easy... its getting back up that's hard...

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Frequently Asked Questions (or No, Really, I Did Actually Think This All Out!)

I've gotten used to the incredulous stares and looks of disbelief when I tell people about this trip over the past year.  Usually, the first reaction is "wow, that sounds amazing" or "wow, that sounds crazy and dangerous."  And then the questions come pouring out. 

The Darian Gap

There are those who aren't really interested and snarkily ask me how I'm going to bike across the Darian Gap.  Very funny, guys.  I'm fairly certain my bike would not appreciate trying to cross the Darian Gap by air, so I'm looking forward to a lovely boat ride from Panama City to Cartagena. 


How Long Will That Take?

There are those who aptly realize that Argentina is reaaaaally far away and ask me how long it will take to bike from the U.S. to Argentina.  The answer isn't a simple one.  I could do it in well under a year.  I've seen trip blogs of folks who have done the entire Pan-American from Deadhorse, Alaska to Ushuaia, Argentina in just 9 months.  But I'm approaching this trip with an open mind.  I will have the luxury of time and no itinerary.  The only place I absolutely have to be my brother's wedding sometime in 2014, and that just means I have to visit the U.S., if just for a bit.  I have the complete and utter freedom to stay somewhere I like for a week, a month, or a year.  Conversely, if I decide the wandering lifestyle isn't for me, I can pack up and head home after a couple months. 

How Much Will This Trip Cost?

There are those who respond to my Adventure Cycling Association website advertisement who ask me what my budget is for the subsequently described adventure:
"I'm a 32 year old American woman doing a two-plus-year self-supported bike tour starting in Seattle and going south via the Pacific Coast to Baja California, Central and South America, and possibly to Southeast Asia afterwards, depending on funds. I plan on taking my time and taking smaller dirt roads, and whenever possible, hiking, rafting, climbing, and scuba diving. 50 to 75 miles (75 to 100 km)/day, camping with one to two days/week in hostals.  Plans are flexible and I speak Spanish fluently."
From what I can tell, folks who do long distance bike tours typically fall into two categories: (1) the fresh-faced twenty-somethings in their gap year; or (2) retirees.  The former think they can get by on $10/day.  The retirees may have not even have a budget, or don't have to think in terms of a daily budget because they are living off their retirement.  Mid-career, young-ish, folks like myself seem to be scarce.

One of the first things I had to decide was how much I wanted to have set aside for the trip and how much I wanted to have set aside for "reintegration" back into American society should I choose to do so.  I decided that at a minimum, I would like to have enough money to take at least a year but up to two-years for this trip.  I read a lot of cycling blogs, in particular http://travellingtwo.com/resources/budget, to get an idea of what a reasonable budget would be. 

Ultimately, my budget was somewhat arbitrary and driven by the following conclusions:
  1. I needed a nice round number to aim for. 
  2. $10,000 per year of travel seemed reasonable and would allow me to do all the things I wanted to do.  It's actually more than I will probably end up spending due to how cheap Latin America is. 
  3. I also have the option of finding temporary work along the way to supplement my savings since I have the advantage of speaking Spanish and English. 
  4. I did not take this into account while doing my calculations, because even if I may have the option of picking up temporary work along the way, whether its manning the front desk at a hostal, giving salsa lessons, teaching English, or whatever I can muster up, I can't rely on finding that type of work.
This $10,000 number was based at least a little bit on past experience and my research:
  1. I calculated that $20/day is reasonable for a solo traveler who camps over half the time, stays in hostals less than half the time, and splurges on a hot shower, beer, and a good meal a fair amount of the time. 
  2. When I backpacked through Central America during law school, I managed on $15-$20/day and that was including the cost of public transportation and a bed every night.  Accomodation accounted for over half of my costs.  Camping would allow me to take that extra cash and upgrade my meals and other simple luxuries. 
  3. Soooooo $20 x 365 = $7,300 base cost per year. 
  4. Then I needed to make sure I budgeted for the fun splurges of rafting, scuba diving, trekking, skydiving, paragliding, or whatever else I felt was once-in-a-lifetime. 
  5. $10,000 was an easy number to aim for as far as per year costs went, and made my "fun splurges / repair stuffs / emergencies" fund $225 per month.  And voila!  My minimum was to save $20,000 for the trip.
Deciding on what I felt comfortable with for "reintegration" was hard.  After all, I do have an easily liquidated 401k / IRA that has enough to see me through just about any emergency.  I also have a wonderful network of friends and family who would bail me out if I crashed and burned.  But how much money in the bank would give me ease that I could live off it and find gainful employment and a place to live if I decided to come back?  That's a highly personal analysis.  I decided I should have a $10,000 cushion.  Again, it was a somewhat arbitrary but easy to aim for.

Most people I know are always behind their financial goals.  Somehow, I managed to get ahead of mine, and ended up paying off my student loans a month early.  I recalculated my savings projections today based on the new timing of my departure from work, and somehow I will end up likely having saved enough to take at least four years off.

What Will You Do When You Get Back?

And there are those who can't quite wrap their mind around the fact that I'm willing to leave the rat race and walk away from a six figure job to go on this trip, and all they can think of to ask is what I'm going to do when I get back.  The problem with this question is the faulty premise that I plan on coming back.  Oh, don't get me wrong, I always have a Plan B/C/D/E/F.  Always.
  • Plan B:  Take the foreign service exam and become a foreign service officer.
  • Plan C:  Take an online TEFL course and teach English abroad.
  • Plan D:  Work as a grease monkey in a bike shop.
  • Plan E:  Peace Corp.
  • Plan F:  Take my 401k / IRA or surplus monies and start a mountain bike hostel in the U.S. / Bolivia / Peru / wherever.
  • Plan G:  Become a translator.
  • Plan H:  Discover on this trip what I want to do when I grow up and do that.
  • Plan I:  Live in the woods of West Virginia.
  • If all else fails, go back into law.  Maybe in Alaska.  They like me up there. 

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Decision Time: When Does The Byk Ride Start?

Time is a strange thing.  It passes too slowly and altogether too quickly at the same time.  For the vast majority of this year, I have been impatiently waiting and scheming ways to leave DC as quickly as possible, sometimes to the detriment of common sense and smart planning.  Over the summer, my workload at the office had slowed down to the point I had far too much time to think about how much I wanted to leave for my trip, and life and whittled away to waiting for the next paycheck so I could pay off another chunk of my student loans.  I was passing time.  I was not-so-silently hoping to get laid off from my job to give me a reason to leave sooner than later.  And then in a whirlwind of leaves changing color and the weather turning cooler, Autumn brought me back to life. 

Hiking at Great Falls... last remnants of Fall
My work landed a huge project that took me from thumb twiddling and dreaming to working overtime every night.  Fortuitously, this project had a due date of early February, which would allow me the perfect exit from my firm, on good terms.  My lease was up at the end of February.  I also unexpectedly met someone who, like me, had goals that would make setting and keeping roots in DC virtually impossible in the foreseeable future, but who has made this time something I will treasure forever, regardless of whether our paths cross again.  I was free to make the most of the time I had left here and free to leave when the time came.

Of course, this was all too good to be true.

My "perfect" plan started unravelling.  I received a summons to serve a full month of grand jury duty scheduled the latter half of January through the latter half of February.  The court extended the deadline for my huge project to April because of the overwhelming amount of work left to be done, such that giving notice in January would screw my co-workers over.  I realized I might be leaving behind the possibility of "happily ever after."  And I found myself wondering if I really had to leave so soon.  Maybe I could serve my jury duty and stay through the end of the project.  Maybe I owed it to myself to see if there was something worth coming back to DC for.  Maybe I could get LASIK.  Maybe it was worth getting a few extra paychecks.  So many maybes.

ARRRRRGGGHHH! (Photo credit: Angry Little Asian Girl)

I've done a lot of thinking and arguing with myself.  I've talked myself in circles.  Despite all the "what ifs" and "maybes," there are a few certainties: 
  1. The status quo is untenable;
  2. I cannot stay at this job beyond this project;
  3. I need to do trip in some form or another; and
  4. No matter what happens, leaving DC is going to result in a mixed bag of emotions, both good and painful.
The solution?  It's not perfect, but I think it's the right one.  I buy myself a little extra time, a little extra money, and I don't burn any bridges at my office. 

I found out that the portion of the project I am involved with will be substantially complete by the end of February.  Even if the project won't have concluded, and even though my co-workers won't like it, I can leave in good conscience at the end of February.  In fact, it's probably for the best.  When this project ends, there will be a vacuum of work for dozens of attorneys, and my departure will provide some relief to management in the long term. 

The lawyer in me was curious about serving on the grand jury, especially when I figured out that it would be the murder and violent crimes section.  So I did what any good citizen would do... I postponed my grand jury duty to April to buy myself some time.  In all likelihood, I will no longer be resident of DC before this date comes up, thus exempting me from service.


So my tentative new schedule is:

January 1, 2013:  Give notice to landlord that we will not renew lease with rent check.
February 1, 2013:  Give notice to work that my last day will be February 28, 2013.
February 28, 2013:  Last day of work and lease expires.
March 1, 2013 - March 8, 2013:  Depart DC for a two-three week cross country trip to Seattle.
Early April:  Start pedalling.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Splurging On My Chariot Of Steel

I've spent more time than I care to admit obsessing over my bike touring set up.  I have the intractible conflict of being a thrifty gearhead, which makes for some interesting mental tug-of-wars.  I was sure, positive, absolutely decided, that I was going to go for a traditional touring setup; something classic like the Surly Long Haul Trucker with the front and rear racks for a full four pannier setup. 

The blog of bikepacker Cass Gilbert changed my whole touring philosophy, including how I wanted to do my own setup.  Who was I to go "classic"?  I wanted to go offroad, rugged, off-the-beaten path, versatile and needed a bike that could handle it all.  And so I  decided to go for the Surly Troll. 

This, of course, created the dilemma of a new setup.  I started drooling over Relevate Designs and Porcelein Rocket bikepacking gear.  The gearhead side of me wanted to buy all the bags!  The thrifty side of me kept reminding me that um... yea... you already bought all the regular panniers...  So I did a test ride from Pittsburgh to DC to figure out what my dream bike touring setup would be.  I mean, thrift is great, I paid off $200,000+ in student loans over 5 years because of my talent for thrift, but if my bike is going to be my home for a year or more, I damn well better love the setup.

Well, I think I've found it.  I'm not so minimalist given the length of this trip that I can bike in a single pair of bike shorts and eat from food stalls every day.  I decided to keep the rear panniers, run a framebag, insulated water bottle holders on the handbars, fuel bottle on the downtube, and Salsa anything cages on the front fork which will hold two Nalgenes in insulated bottle holders.  This required some custom work, including a custom framebag by Porcelein Rocket since framebags are not yet sold retail for my midget-sized Troll.  It also required extra water bottle bosses on the front fork and downtube.  It took some time, but Tom Palermo of Palermo Cycles in Baltimore told me he could do it...

Photo credit: Tom Palermo

Photo credit: Tom Palermo
 
Photo credit: Tom Palermo
I don't regret spending the money.  Not even the thrifty side of me regrets it.  I love my crazy ugly custom bike. 
Thar sheeee iiiiiz!  All done except for the new pedals my parents got me for my birfday!

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Fairy Tales, or How I Paid $200,000+ in Student Loan Debt Off In 5 Years

I believe in fairy tales.  I don't believe in the version fed to my generation of women, who were taught that a fairy tale was Richard Gere pulling up to my dingy apartment in a fancy limo and financing my dreams for the rest of my life.  What about the "happily ever after" part?  Surely Julia Roberts died of boredom. 


My life is driven by setting relatively arbitrary goals and working towards them.  It's how I slay the dragons in my mind that constantly seek a reason to stay in bed in the morning.  And I like to choose the hard goals, the ones most people would never consider doing, and that require me to rethink or recreate my day-to-day life.  It's the "newness" of things that keep me going.  My "happily ever after" requires me to have an ever-evolving existence that most people can't keep up with or don't want to keep up with.  It's not the goals themselves that matter, as I was reminded recently of something Bruce Lee once said, "a goal is not always meant to be reached, it often serves simply as something to aim at."  My way of life can be a lonely existence because humans, generally speaking, are complacent creatures.


A good friend of mine recently emailed me to see how I was doing.  I told him about an unexpectedly positive but complicated development in my life, one that has brought me out of plodding slowly and steadily towards the end of this chapter, and back into actively thinking about what this trip means to me, why I am going, and what I really want out of life.  His response to me was:
[A]ll magic is work in progress. The idea of magic happening out of the thin air is an urban (or medieval) legend. The key thing is to have/identify the ingredients/raw material/resources/desire/etc., and take actionable steps to make your magic happen.
But you are no stranger to this are you. Many would say you live a magical life. 
Most people who think I live a magical life they tell me, with a wistful look in their eyes, about how jealous they are of whatever it is I'm doing at the time.  The fact is, if they really wanted it, they would do it.  They like the idea of my fairy tale, but it's not what they really want.  Sometimes, it's because they have different priorities, other times, it's because they choose to believe it is simply too hard.  A life less ordinary isn't an easy one.  What they don't see is how hard I work towards my fairy tale and the actionable steps I take to make it happen.  They don't see the planning, the setbacks, the plan B/C/D/E, the tears of frustration, the guilt when I stray from whatever plan I've made, the uncertainty of each decision, and all of the things that come with daring to think outside the box.  They don't understand the fluid nature of the goals, and that at the end of the day, it's all a form of escapism. 

What do I want out of life?  Maybe this is it.  Maybe this is the human condition, or at least my human condition, to be always searching for that next new thing.  I aim for the ridiculous because my personality and nature push me to do so.  But the thing I ground myself in every day is that I cannot live for some hypothetical tomorrow and blindingly fling myself towards an idea I had long ago if circumstances change.  The beauty of life is that it is unexpected, and how we synthesize changes in circumstances with our goals becomes incredibly important.  Do we compromise one dream for another?  Do we fight to have it all?  I choose not to live in terms of mutual exclusion.  I will take as much of it as I can until the circumstances force me to choose, or the choice is taken away from me. 


But I digress.  This post was really supposed to be how I paid off $200,000+ in student loans in five years. 

I made a promise to myself that when I sold my soul to BigLaw in the face of a deteriorating economy, I would only sell my soul for 5 years or until my student loans were at a "manageable" level, whichever came first.  I thought for a long time that it would be much earlier, especially as the toll of working in BigLaw became almost unbearable.  I spent some time job searching on the West Coast as my post-BigLaw plan A, and had good prospects at the Alaska AG's office which would have allowed me to take maybe 6 months off to do a bike tour.  That didn't seem like enough.  To leave law only to come back didn't feel right.  And it would have left me still saddled with debt.  So in January 2012, I did a budget to see what it would take to be able to take a year off to travel, maybe by bike, maybe by other means.  And that's when I realized that I could actually finish paying them off.  The timing of February 2013 was somewhat random, chosen only by the responsible part of me that recognizes that law will be a good fallback and if I want to waive into other jurisdictions, I needed my last day at the office to be February 5, 2013 or later to qualify for 5 years of practice.  

What were the actionable steps?
  • I made a conscious decision in law school to keep open the possibility of working for one of the big law firms.  I knew I wanted to do the "do gooder" work, but I accepted the reality of my decision to attend law school.  I did well, I studied, I got a summer associate position, and I accepted the job offer.  I promised myself five years or when the loans were low enough to get out.
  • I also made a conscious decision never to let myself live like I was making top dollar.  For example, I never bought a car and relied on my bicycle to commute.  I shopped for clothes at the Thrift Store.  The only splurges I made were for travel that I knew I would not be able to afford later and I moved into a nicer apartment.  For the most part, I paid double or triple my minimum student loan payments each month, focusing on the loans that had the highest interest rates.  It's slow going at first, but once you finally get into your principal, it goes more quickly.
  • When the end was near, I created a budget spreadsheet to see how long it would take to pay off my student loans if I really cracked down on my finances.  Once I saw I was about a year away, I was mentally able to focus and pare down everything that was unnecessary.  I made an end goal of a bike trip to keep me motivated and on the path of minimalism.  At this point, over 50% of my pay was going into my student loans.
  • I created a simple spreadsheet into which I forced myself to enter all of my expenditures in real time, with formulas that would automatically recalculate how much money I had left to spend under my budget.  My budget was ruthless.  
  • I moved to a cheaper apartment with a friend rather than renting a one-bedroom in a trendy part of town.  We kept utilities low by using space heaters and rarely turning on the heat or air conditioner.
  • I cooked all my lunches and making all my meals from scratch.  I often hunted around the break room for leftovers from luncheon meetings and so long as no one else wanted them, I would take enough for several meals.  I stopped shopping at Whole Foods and buying nice wine and made all my meals by couponing and shopping only the sales items.  I even dabbled in dumpster diving for a bit.  I got my grocery budget down to $100 a month.
  • I made a rule that I could not go out to eat unless it was comped from working overtime or with friends.  Even then, I usually only ordered an appetizer or a drink and never a full meal.
  • I made sure to have a "fun" budget and a "restaurant" budget to make sure I kept my sanity, but I kept them really small.
  • I quit my gym and found other ways to maintain my fitness goals using the free gym at my office.
  • I learned how to say "no" to weekend trips I normally would have taken. 
  • If I overspent in one area, I would have to take it from another or sell something to compensate.  I ended up selling almost everything I owned anyway, but this helped avoid any impulse purchases.
If I had not decided to do this trip, I would never have stuck to my budget and I would not be just one paycheck away from being free and clear.  It could be argued that the trip was just a means to the earlier promise I made to myself.  It gave me the mental fortitude to stay the course.  And that's how I paid off all my student loans in five years.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Geeking Out On Gear

When I first started planning this trip, I threw all of my mental energy into researching and procuring gear, so that basically I had finished pulling everything together oh... in February.  All that's left for me is to pick up the spare parts, tubes, etc. that I will need.  I had assumed from the beginning that I would go with the standard touring set-up -- two front and two rear panniers with a handlebar bag.  After drooling over some of the mountain bikepacking setups, I started thinking about the possibility of doing a framebag and if possible, nix the front panniers, and to run Salsa anything cages on the front fork to carry Nalgenes for extra water storage.  It was brilliant!  Except that while certain framebags were mass produced for other model by Surly, there was no framebag made for my midget-sized Troll. 

Revelate Designs, whose Feed Bags I fell in love with, had promised that they were coming out with framebags for the Troll in the Spring.  Nothing.  Nada.  I can't blame them.  So I looked at custom options... and found Scott Felter of Porcelain Rocket.

But of course, that seemed really pricey at the time, $170+ for a custom framebag, $40 for a pair of Salsa anything cages, $60 to add the extra water bottle boss on the front fork to be able to mount the cages... at least, it seemed pricey back in January, when I was putting together my budget for paying off my student loans, what I could spend on gear, and what I would put away for the trip.  Until one day, I realized I was ahead of my savings plan due to forgetting that I would max out both my 401k andsocial security contribution limits by July.  And so I decided that if I'm going to live on my bike for 2+ years, I better have a set-up I LOVE.  Scott told me he had not done a 14" Troll bag yet, so I had the honor of drawing a pattern for him.  I dropped my bike off at a local bike builder, Tom Palermo of Palermo Bicycles, who would be adding a set of water bottle bosses to the down tube and and the front fork. 

And then, it was time to patiently wait. 

And wait. 

And wait.

And then.... I got an email from Scott... my bag is done!  And for instant gratification... he sent a picture and posted it to his flickr site for all to see.

Photo Credit: Scott Felter of Porcelain Rocket
Slowly, but surely, the clock is counting down.  It's hard to believe looking at my budget spreadsheet how many months have gone by since I sat down and made it in the first place.  It's hard to believe that I have just two more paychecks before I can pay off my student loans in their entirety, my BA, JD, and MA. 

Monday, July 2, 2012

Breaking In The Troll

Every year for the past four years, I have gathered a few of my more intrepid friends to do a short self-contained bike tour in the Washington D.C. area.  It has always been some permutation of the same three friends and some or all of the Great Allegheny Passage and C&O Canal Towpath from McKeesport, Pennsylvania to Washington D.C., which provides over 300 miles of traffic free cycling with great amenities and campsites along the way, and the guides I linked to above makes planning easy.  This year I decided to use the trip as a way to test out my touring set up.

The Troll, Pre-Tree Flinging
After two beautiful days and 132 miles on the GAP with nearly perfect weather, and a third day sweltering through 84 miles on the C&O, we ended up camping out during the biggest storm of the year.  Any "ooh shiny new bike" precautions were thrown to the wind as we spent the fourth day barely cycling and mostly climbing our bikes and gear over 60+ fallen trees.  I may or may not have actually thrown my bike over one tree or ten...

One Of A Gajillion Tree Crossings
But there were many good things that came out of the trip, aside from the generally good time we always have through thick and thin.  I learned:
  1. My purchase of Revelate Designs' feed bags and top tube bags were spot on and well worth the high price tag.  Not only did they provide easy and dust/grit/grime-free access to my water bottles, the insulation the bags provided kept my ice water gloriously cold in 100 degree weather for hours.
  2. I will probably be able to do this trip without front racks and front panniers and am crossing my fingers hoping I can get brazeons added to the front forks for extra water storage. 
  3. A one man tent is space enough for me and two rear panniers, even in history-making storms.
  4. The Troll is one solid steel beast.  And I can even lift it fully loaded... multiple times.
  5. Jumping logs is interesting with a fully loaded bike.  Although the handling is more squirrely, I had a blast being able to take some bigger stuff with it, including smaller fallen trees.
  6. The She Wee is fun.  Giggle-inducingly fun.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Two Birds With One Stone, Or 500 Birds.

I decided rather than trying to ship things across country, or pay for a plane ticket, I would drive cross country in a one-way car rental from Washington DC to Seattle WA where my family lives.  I've always wanted to drive cross country... at least until I discovered bike touring.  Actually, I would have preferred to bike cross country, but I want to leave a couple boxes of the random things that I have decided not to sell or give away (like cold weather gear my folks might mail down to Argentina if I ultimately decide to climb Aconcagua) or that still have too much sentimental value (aaah, Rainbow Brite, the first bike I built and which I still use for commuting).  Not only will I be able to see all my favorite people along the way, but I'll get to abuse my national park pass a little bit and see some new places. 

So here is version 1.0.  It could change, but I think the route I've planned out has a nice balance of catching up with people, seeing new things, and not driving too much all the time over the two weeks I plan this trip to take.

Friday, June 1, 2012

In A Perpetual State Of Waiting

It is June in Washington D.C., which marks hot melting days, and the start of a new season.  One season closer to the big day.  I realized that I've been in a bit of a funk lately, like I'm just waiting for life to begin.  I haven't really felt this since high school when I was waiting to graduate and move on to the next part of my life.  What makes it so hard to simply live in the "now" and get to the "next part" when it happens?  I probably spend a little too much time trying to escape and just let the time pass as quickly as possible rather than actively taking advantage of that time.  I've been feeling a bit lost these days, because I keep telling myself that until I know when exactly I will pay off my student loans, I can't make a concrete decision about when I will leave.  And until I know when I can quit, I will not know where I will start, depending on the seasons, and so route planning seems a bit futile. 

And so I tell myself "self, get off yo' butt and just make a decision, get back to dreaming and planning and doing all those things that give you a reason to wake up every morning."

And so I did.

Today, I decided to stop wavering between different trip routes.  I decided to stop using the unknowns to stop my trip planning.  I decided to make a decision that makes sense to me.  I had an overly idealized idea that I'd start at the end of the world and bike home, wherever that may be, Peru, Bolivia, Seattle.  I liked the idea of plopping myself down to tackle the Andes right away, even though that may mean that I would have to give up my dream (at least for now), of climbing Aconcagua.  But the little nagging voice in my head was telling me I was rushing a little too much, not giving myself enough cushion to save the proper amount of money, not giving my family enough time before I go, not getting the most out of my high powered lawyer salary, requiring a little too much "austerity" for me to appreciate these last months...

So, I find myself envisioning a different start.  A more relaxed start.  A start that I think will make me a better person for it and with a bigger cushion.  Will an extra couple weeks at work be worth the extra couple thousand I can save?  Absolutely.  I'll be thanking myself later when I have no income save the interest on my 401k/IRA.

Instead of trying to rush to leave in January to fly to Ushuaia only to have to race winter North, I decided to not ruin my boss' holidays and give notice after the New Year, get an extra months' salary (which should give me an extra couple months on the road), have time to do my taxes and get my refund (another maybe month on the road worth of monies), live out my lease until the middle of February, and take my time to spend two weeks driving cross-country to visit friends and family and all the national parks in between (instead of giving it just 6 days as originally planned), then spend a week or so visiting with my parents in Richland (instead of a day or two), before heading out to cycle to Seattle to visit my brother and then onward to the Pacific coast to bike it down to Baja California.  And just keep on going south. 

The advantages of doing it this way are endless, I have the flexibility to wait until March 1 to start driving cross-country, so if financial disaster hits, I can put off my trip a bit and still be just fine, I don't have to be in such a goddamn rush all the time, I can really spend some quality time with both my parents and my brother, and I'll be more likely to have U.S.-based friends join me for the first leg of this trip. 

Sooooo, here is my new childlike picture of maybe where my route will take me!

Sunday, April 22, 2012

They Call Her Agent Orange

After flip flopping back and forth, I decided finally, after supposedly deciding officially months ago to go with the Surly Long Haul Trucker, to get the Surly Troll as my beast of burden for the trip.  The reason for my big switch was the fact that even though the LHT is the gold standard for affordable touring rigs, my gut was pulling me to the Troll.  I'm not sure if its because I've always toured on mountain bikes, or because I like the idea that this bike can handle all roads, mountain biking singletrack where I can find it (Bolivia!), and the flexibility to swap out the front fork for a suspension fork if and when I get back to the United States to do the Great Divide route from Mexico to Banff or wherever.  All I knew is that it was still calling to me after talking to dozens of people, bike mechanics, and the like.

And so, after a couple weeks of swapping out handlebars, grips, seatpost, trimming cable housing, changing the shifters, pedals, and everything in between, it is done.  Today, I decided to hide out from the rain and adjust all my panniers, make sure my racks were mounted correctly, and get the setup as finalized as my weary brain would allow.  One month until I can take this baby up to Baltimore to get a frame builder to drill in extra brazeons for a bottom side downtube bottle holder for my fuel bottle.  Two months until my 10 day test tour from DC to Pittsburgh and back again.  About seven months until I can give notice to my job.  About eight months until my last effective day.  About nine months until my last official day.  Time is flying... it seems like just yesterday I was lamenting that it would be over a year until I could leave.


Much like my flip flopping on the bike, I have also struggled with where I want to start.  At first, I thought it would be amazing to start in Colombia and work my way south.  Colombia is familiar territory for me, my favorite country, and seemed like a comfortable place to start.  But much like the Troll, my gut kept telling me that it would be amazing to start at the end of the world and start biking home, and maybe I'd get there, wherever "home" is, be that my folks place in Washington State, or a bike shop in Bolivia, I liked the idea of not needing a return ticket.  Although this changed my timing a bit in order to avoid a harsh winter in Patagonia, I realized that with the amount of vacation I had accumulated, I could bump up my last effective day working while still getting paid and being officially on the books for the purposes of preserving the potential to practice law in other jurisdictions should I some day change my mind and want to practice law again if and when I decide to return to the United States.