My plan right now is to leave, Monday January 6th. Strange timing. This January 6th is the third anniversary of my mom’s death. January 6th wasn’t on purpose but it does, now, seem to be strange timing.
My mom.
The person who inspires me.
Four years ago, exactly tonight, December 31st, was my start date with Bakers Express. This wasn’t on purpose either. My (third?) original plan was to leave at the end of September 2019. But, once I spoke to my father a few months back, that time when I was sweating the fact that I hadn’t budgeted enough or lost enough weight, my dad suggested leaving on the New Year. He correctly stated that not only would I be leaving in the darkest and coldest time of the year in New Jersey but those few additional months would give me just that additional time I needed to save some extra money and lose the weight I desired.
So, I planned on leaving on the New Years of 2020. But, I thought about it some more. Why don’t I take my leave from work on the New Years Eve that we had off and then spend a few extra days with Lauren, my girlfriend who had been somewhat neglected due to my work schedule over these past few years. So, then, what day to leave?
I had been sitting at home after work thinking about what exact day to leave on this adventure. I will leave work on the anniversary of my mom’s death. This day has haunted me for the past 3 years and I need to associate this day with something other than my mom’s death. Every year before this, I’ve had to take off from work due to the fact that I knew I would have a volatile attitude and not a presence conducive to driving a truck.
The original plan to leave in September was eclipsed by the fact that I hadn’t budgeted enough money or lost enough weight to feel comfortable in my own skin. When I realized, probably after flying out to San Diego to celebrate my little brother’s 40th birthday, that I wasn’t ready financially or physically I became pissed off and somewhat depressed that I was delaying this trip yet another year to excuses.
The timing of this adventure is unique. Four years ago I started my current job officially on December 31st and it’s unique that I’m leaving this job exactly four year later. This has been, by far, my best job I’ve had. I have earned more money, have a great boss I consider a friend, and work with guys that I like. There’s no one I consider an asshole. What more could you want.
The point of this is: There will never be a perfect time to do those things of your dreams. There will never be the right about of money, work will never understand exactly, others will criticize and question, you will have every excuse until the task is impossible and it is too late. Then you can revert back to all of your excuses to back why you didn’t do it to justify it to others and, most importantly, justify it to yourself.
Exactly seven years ago I boarded a bus at the Tacoma, Washington bus station to make a step into the unknown. Everything else was not working, I was living on an air mattress in a buddy’s rented house and I had barely enough money to eat the chicken and frozen veggies I bought. I had already pawned everything I could and I was leaving that dark, chilly Northwest morning to board a bus to head to training in Idaho to get my CDL. I had no idea what lied ahead. I was headed towards Lewiston, Idaho for a future unknown.
This is similar. It’s the same time of year, same dates and I’m heading towards something where I don’t know what lies ahead. I really don’t know what is in store for me as I leave this coming Monday and that is what drives me to travel this way and keep plans unhatched. I am as nervous now leaving on this adventure as I was some seven years ago back in 2013 leaving that chilly, early morning from Tacoma on a bus bound for CDL training in Idaho. Weird.
But, I guess that’s what some don’t understand about a trip of this undertaking. Yes, I quit my great job. Everything in my life was great. I’m not running from anything. Materialistically, I have everything I need. I’ve left my comfort of a secure, great paying job to go riding and exploring. That is the most terrifying. Leaving comfort and security to do something that you have dreamed about for years. It’s not comfortable and it is not secure. But it’s not about that.
The thing that separates those who travel for the sake of travel and those that crave the warm blanket of security is doing what we know needs to be done. If I died tomorrow on the way to Panama, I would die fulfilled and happy. I don’t have an endgame whereby I bought the perfect car, bought the perfect house and had acquired those perfect material possessions. That’s not my story.
On Monday, January 6th, my plan is to leave Eatontown New Jersey and ride straight through to Williamsburg, Virginia and go see my mom at her grave. I want to let her know on the anniversary of her death that I’m doing well and that I’m heading off to Panama to ride my motorcycle and see what happens. I know the last time I rode down to Guatemala to see the drunken horse races in Todos Santos Cuchamatan that I was ok. That I had done what I had planned. This time I want to ride to the end of the Trans-America highway to where the road ends and the jungle begins. I’ve always been the daredevil in the family and I think my mom would shake her head somewhat reluctantly with a grin and know that I did what made me the happiest. This day is perfect and I know she would be behind this.