Slowly Global vs the Avenue of the Giants... and some future pondering.

For the first time in about three months, we did nothing this past weekend. It was amazing.

"Living like a local" for an extended period of time finds us with jobs, which means that the concept of "weekends" has meaning again, and man, are they precious! These Saturdays and Sundays, when we're not working on house and yard maintenance (which, honestly, is neither super time-consuming nor physically taxing), we're involved in local politics, which finds us attending weekend meetings and rallies on a regular basis. There's also a pleasantly surprising amount of weekend entertainment in Coos Bay which finds us enjoying everything from geology talks at the local college to drag shows downtown. "Living like a local" has been kind of exhausting, actually.

Speaking of exhausting, "living like a local" in Coos Bay also found us joining our Where Is Your Toothbrush/The Salad Lobby friends, Peter and Lindsay, for the Avenue of the Giants half-marathon a few weekends ago. They had raved about it last year and we figured the training prep would be a good way to stay in shape over the miserable, rainy-sometimes-snowy, southern coast winter. So we signed up, and joined a gym, and ran ran ran.

All those evening and weekend training hours turned out to be completely worth it. The run itself was pretty surreal - gigantic beautiful trees, perfect weather, and downhill both ways (or so it seemed - an illusion from the tall trees, perhaps?). We all finished with good times and no injuries.

before

 ran across some friends along the run

 after 

We camped in Myers Flat with our friends and some of their family who had driven up for the weekend. The campground was right next to the South Fork Eel River, and other than a pretty wicked wind each evening (and that kid riding his bike in circles playing awful country music on his portable radio), it was quite pleasant. 

 have river, need van

This was SG's first camping trip of the season. We're sad to report that we forgot to take pictures of the campsite, but we're happy to report that our tent, heretofore named Old Reliable, held up against the wind (and awful country music)... We're still buying a new tent someday, though - thanks, REI dividend!

Anyway. Monday morning, we broke camp and took the slow route home, first driving the Avenue that we'd run the day before and stopping for a few short walks.

another one for the "Subaru ad" file

    someone, somewhere, definitely heard this

 tree hugging me

or me hugging tree?

happy campers

We also took the scenic route through Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, which was well worth the detour, and spent an hour or so trying to find the Myrtle Creek Botanic Area just north of Crescent City (hint: if the park rangers at the info station haven't heard of it, maybe just keep going).

not the trail

(but turned out, we were sooooooooo close)

One last stop at Chetco Brewing Company for a taster flight, snack, and beer trivia...

Willa Nelson IPA for the win

And then it was home. "Home," I mean.

But that was two weekends ago. This past weekend? Nada. No meetings, no rallies, no entertainment, and best of all - no long runs. We got some things done, mind you, but other than a few quick errands and a short run, we didn't leave the house. It was lovely.

Even more lovely was the wanderlust inspiration that came from this Redwoods road trip. It's ironic - or maybe not? - that prolonged stability has resulted in our need for motion again. And prolonged residence next to a major town road, in a town devoid of pine trees, has resulted in our need for nature again.

We are here for a while yet, in part because our housesit hosts have a bit of wanderlust inspiration themselves and they are still figuring out their plan for returning to the area. And in part because we are (mostly) enjoying our jobs and (definitely) enjoying the bank account replenishment.

But talk has begun. Research has initiated. Ideas are being mentally filed away. Things are being assessed for long-term viability (in other words, does it fit in the car?). The jar has been counted and set aside for a planned purchase, and will be replenished according to the original methodology.

We're nowhere near a plan, and we don't expect to have one anytime soon. We want to be certain that we're running toward something. (But that's a much longer post that would be better shared over a beer someday. Come visit!)

For now, photosynthesis certainly ain't the plan, but we'll enjoy the post-yard-work happy hours in the sun while we have them.

cheers!

A review, a preview, and a ginormous THANK YOU.

Day 975 of FUNemployment! Crazy.

As I sat down to write this year-end post, I started to go down the "gratitude" path but it took an uber-sappy turn at some point. Believe me, no one wants that for Christmas. Suffice to say, returning to Portland and the US in general was more challenging than we expected and we're eternally grateful to everyone who supported us, particularly those of you who stuck with us through our crankypants summer.

Anyway! Here's the 2015 review for anyone just catching up...

For the first time since 2012, we spent most of this year in our home country. We visited 18 national parks and explored 19 states. We said hi to the cherry blossoms, the Man in Black, the Continental Divide, and the best campsite in Oregon. We tried very hard not to mess with Texas. We kept (at least) ten dogs, six cats, and lots of chickens company. We volunteered for a few worthy causes. We caught up with supportive family members, friends, and former colleagues. We saw some great music. We helped our parents with life transitions.

So in spite of all the sitting around we did this year, we were actually quite busy.

We're wrapping up the year in Canada where we're celebrating our third consecutive Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Year holiday outside of the continental United States. Whereas our US adventures were obviously comfortable and familiar, the Canada portion has also felt comfortable and familiar thanks to our Alberta friends and the town of Vernon, BC which honestly feels like every other suburban town in any English-speaking country.

okay, maybe it's a little prettier here...

... than, say, Beaverton

One of the most common questions we're asked is, "what's next?" We're happy to say that we finally have an answer! Here's the 2016 preview: after our BC housesit and another month-long housesit on Orcas Island, we'll head to Eugene to help Patrick's mom with a little spring cleaning.

And then? THEN?!?! Starting next spring we'll be interning on a beautiful vegetable farm in Southern Oregon!

Earlier this summer we thought a lot about our transition back to paid work while making sure we spent those 40+ hours/week doing something we loved. Interning through Rogue Farm Corps' FarmsNext program, which offers a structured educational approach for people like us who think we want to be farmers, seemed like the most appropriate approach. The program will help us answer frequently asked questions like "You know farming is really hard work, right?" and "You know there's no money to be made in farming, right?" and "You know there's no 401K program for farmers, right?" (Kidding - we already know all of those answers. But we will get answers to more important questions like "What are the best soil, greenhouse, and cover crop management techniques?" and "Do you have any best practices for irrigation in this crazy time of climate change?" and "How does one actually drive a tractor, anyway?")

It feels a little odd to be starting over in our 40s but we're pretty confident that our host farmers will teach us a lot about getting started, staying positive, and figuring out how to be successful in this particularly challenging field.

Much more on this later - just know that we're super excited to return to Oregon and kick start our next life! (Is it April yet? ... How about now? ... Now?)

Thank you for your ongoing support. We look forward to keeping you posted on next year's farm shenanigans and our plans beyond November 2016...

Hope next year brings you joy, gratitude, and most of all, continued adventure - however you define it!

... to you and yours!

"We're not dead, we're resting!"

I have lost track of how many times I've said this in the last week. I've also lost track of how many times I've said "Yes, we are in Maryland - but no, we are not 'back' and no, we are not 'done'."

Many long-term travelers take an extended break in familiar territory (often known as "their parents' guest room") at some point during their travels. Reasons vary - weddings, funerals, graduations, general road weariness, health issues, unexpected $0 balances in their bank accounts... The length of the extended break also varies traveler to traveler.

Here's our version: In August 2013 we left Patrick's car with an east coast friend, so returning to Maryland at some point was always part of the plan. At some point in the last year my parents decided it was time for them to relocate, so we thought it would be cool if we could return somewhere around their estimated time frame for moving so that we could help out. About four months ago we realized we couldn't afford to travel for much longer without some sort of income, and Spring 2015 was coincidentally my parents' estimated move time frame, so the plan to return to Maryland was officially formed.

So.

We're pausing for a few weeks to help my parents with packing and minor house repairs. We've temporarily unpacked our meager bags and boxes and I'm enjoying one last stay in my childhood house and neighborhood, both of which I will probably never see again. We also plan to visit new places while we're here to keep our adventurous momentum going.

That's all well and good. It really is.

because I get to see stuff like this

and this

and this

And that's been kind of fun. It's also been fun to use our purging experience to help my parents. (Looking to downsize? HIRE US!) And I'm happy to be able to see old friends and housesit for a week at my BFF's place.

But.

In all honesty, THIS is the culture shock we were mentally preparing for, and I've probably said the statements above more to myself over the last week than to anyone else. I've done this Maryland trip so often over the last 15 years that it's almost like I'm just taking two weeks off my corporate cube job to help my parents get some boxes together in between rushing around to see old friends, not returning from a two year adventure. I keep feeling the dread that the vacation will be over soon, that "Monday" will be here before I know it.

Patrick and I felt this way when we were leaving Hawaii too, probably because we were both headed to familiar places (me to my parents' home and him to Oregon to take care of some things before joining me in Maryland). Just over two weeks ago we sat on the beach, ate our last papaya, and tried to fight those post-vacation blues. It was weird, it was frustrating, it was annoying - because WE ARE NOT DONE.

So!

Sometime in early May, we're hitting the road again - this time for a national parks road trip across the south/southwest.

And sometime in late June we'll be back in Portland to housesit for two months.

And then...? No idea.

We feel very lucky because our version of "hitting pause" was pretty much under our control. We'll get going again and we'll figure out our next step along the way... or we'll just keep going. Either way, the adventure continues. Because what was true in Sasquatch Provincial Park, Kent, British Columbia, Canada almost two years ago is still true today:

May 2013 -> infinity

Every-day-is-Friday five: on (really) entering the next phase.

The five phases of Slowly Global, in chronological order:

• Phase One: Canada!
• Phase Two: Central Europe! (and Turkey! and Morocco!)
• Phase Three: SE Asia!
• Phase Four: Australia!
• Phase Five: the good ol' USA...

Phase Five is in progress - we've been in Hawaii for 74 days now. But Hawaii doesn't really feel like the good ol' USA to us.

But.

This time next week we will be on the mainland.

Gulp.

Mixed feelings about this - we are excited to see friends and family, of course. We are looking forward to having the car back. We're very curious to see what path we end up taking from Maryland to Oregon, and how long this path will take (we have a general plan of Portland by July but otherwise, no timetable to speak of). We're having fun with our initial planning and research sessions.

research

(photo courtesy Maps of World)

also research

(photo courtesy Independent Beers)

But in some ways it does feel like the end. Or that the end is near. Or at least, that our travel finances are nearing their end... and therefore, that paid work is imminent.

Paid work.

Gulp.

Very clear feelings on this! Words like "fear," "anxiety," "dread," and "waaaaaah" kept coming up in the conversation last night. (OK, maybe some swear words too.)

We are pretty set on what we don't want to do for paid work, and we're pretty set on what we do want to do for paid work. We know we will have to do something for a little while, and we know this something will probably fall into the category of what we don't want to do for paid work.  That's okay, as long as we have a plan for getting to what we do want to do.

Like our road trip path, we're very curious to see how this "paid work" path unfolds.  In the interim we'll be building our network and continuing to learn and hone skills as we head across the southern states this spring and summer.

And if The Universe isn't ready when we arrive in Portland, well... Perhaps we'll just keep going.

Gulp.

An open letter to New Zealand.

Dear New Zealand,
We regret to inform you that we will not be visiting you soon. Maybe in a few or 10 years, but definitely not soon.

It's really important to us that you know that this decision did not come lightly and we wanted to take a few minutes to explain ourselves.

First, though... Yes, we realize how close you are to Australia. Yes, we know that your people are lovely and your landscapes are stunning. Yes, we hoped to enjoy your meat pies and crawfish and pavlova and amazing wine. Yes, we really wanted to meet up with fellow travelers and family of friends, and maybe even get in a great walk or two. Yes, Jen has already visited you but she was excited about the idea of showing Patrick what she loved and exploring new areas with him. All along, our plan has been to hop over and stay a while after our Oz adventure.

But frankly, you cost a lot, New Zealand. And we mean A LOT. To do our trip right we would want to drive to all the South Island nooks and crannies which would require a camper, fuel, rented gear, groceries and park fees for at least a month. (Our 2-night budget Tasmania road trip cost us almost $500 so you do the math...) Add to that, our Australia visa inconveniently expires on 24 Dec, right around the time that flight prices from Melbourne-Christchurch are higher than what we paid to go from Newark-Warsaw, which is just ridiculous. And add to that, you still haven't figured out that the 0's and 1's of the internet don't actually require freighters for transport and as a result we would be paying arms, legs, and various other body parts just to try to use the web to secure housesitting or farm stays for our time on the North Island.

SWAGs -

not so S or WA

And it's high season. Not only are tourist prices higher and tourist areas more crowded, farm stays are less abundant too. Of the 15 or so farms we recently emailed around Christchurch and Auckland, only 3 actually got back to us (and none had space within our date ranges). Sure, we could find some "in a pinch" places but we'd much rather learn new farm skills than help someone weed for a week straight just to eek out days on our visa.

And? We've seen a lot of beauty over the last 19 months, New Zealand. Would you really want us to visit you and say "yeah that's a pretty view, hey remember that view from the High Tatras of Slovakia?" or "cool glacier, hey remember that amazing glacier we saw at the top of Thorung La Pass in Nepal?" or "awesome hike, hey remember when we spent almost a month in beautiful Tasmania?" (We know that last one's fighting words, New Zealand. You don't want that, do you?)

And... we're tired. Not tired of travel necessarily, but tired of everything related to travel. It's really a full time job and we've had very few "vacations" over the last 19 months. We're so tired that we spent almost a month dragging our feet on a decision about buying Christchurch plane tickets. That was a sign. Last week we found a NZ Lonely Planet in a used bookstore for the unprecedented low price of $6 and debated whether we should even buy it. That was a sign. (We did buy it, which ironically probably sealed the deal on us not going.) And over the last two weeks we created a lot of unnecessary stress amongst ourselves just thinking about another 90 days in an expensive country. That was a BIG sign - it wasn't pretty, and we don't ever want to be in that position again.

Honestly, these last five Australian farm gigs (along with our numerous other farm stays) have really inspired us and we're eager to see what we can do with everything that we've learned over the last 19 months. The money we save by not visiting you this time around will allow us to enjoy our slow meander back to Oregon in the spring and enable a bit more flexibility as we settle into the next phase of this journey. Right now, that's more important than checking another country off our list.

So we're sorry, New Zealand. We didn't mean to smile so wide when we told our Lorinna WWOOF hosts we had decided our next step. We didn't mean to feel such relief when we bought our plane tickets to Honolulu. We didn't mean to gloat when our Hawaii plans started to fall into place so easily (thanks, you know who you are).

and we didn't mean to feel such freedom when we got rid of this list

made in April 2014, won't be needing it anymore

We'll see you someday, New Zealand. We promise. And you better believe it'll be sweet as when we do.

XO,
Jen & Patrick

The Year Two plan: a belated update.

Lulls are good things. They're temporary intervals of quiet; brief times when an action or activity stops. Lulls are comfortable. Lulls are sleepy, safe, relaxed.

For the first time in almost 440 days, after a month in Thailand we've found ourselves in a lull.

Yuam River lull -

Mae Sariang, Thailand

We try to plan days of lulls, and even antsy Jen has grown fond of entire weeks of lulls. But countries of lulls? That's crazy talk.

Comfortable, sleepy, safe, relaxing crazy talk.

It's not surprising that our lull happened in Thailand. This is a really easy country to navigate. The people are really nice and even when nothing is in English it's still really easy to get by. The food is familiar because we've eaten it for the past 20 years... or at least the past three months. All the guesthouse rooms look the same. The winding tree-lined northern hills could easily be Any East Coast Country Road, USA. Every city, town, village has the thousandth most fascinating wat on the planet and the nineteenth most beautiful waterfall in SE Asia and the forty-seventh most lovely mountain peak this side of the Pacific Ocean and the seventy-second most charming little night market.

Yup, we're in a lull.

But with the lull comes the 115th consecutive day of hazy hot humid (sometimes rainy) weather, when we can't sleep even though we have to get up early the next morning for another bus to another town for more of the same. With the lull comes the time to ponder life back in the States, which is sometimes fun and sometimes terrifying. With the lull comes the desire to drink coffee in our pajamas for once, eat a green salad for once, talk to friends and family in person instead of over 1's and 0's for once.

With the lull comes the nagging feeling that we should be Out! Enjoying! Every! Moment! instead of lounging around staring at a river for hours. With the lull comes the reminder that we have no idea what we're doing after August 18th.

So we remind ourselves that the next six weeks are going to fly by, that everything we are about to see - ruins, beaches, poverty, Bangkok - will be completely different than everything we have seen so far. And then we go back to river-staring. We go sit on a hilltop in the early morning mist. We watch water buffalo TV. We make up translations to really bad Thai soap operas. We order the plain stir-fried veggies with no rice instead of another delicious meaty creamy Thai curry. We head over to the seventy-third most charming little night market. We walk 10k to see the Burma border - you know, just because.

But we also book a flight to Nepal (August 28th!). And then we book a flight to Perth (September 24th!). And with the lull comes the luxury of time to start researching totally new countries with their endless opportunities.

Right. The point of this post was to fill you in on our Year Two plan. It's been percolating for a few months now, and it's finally starting to come together. In a nutshell, here's what we hope will happen:

• July: central/southern Thailand
• August: Cambodia (possibly returning to Thailand near the end of the month for some beach time)
• September: Nepal
• Late September: (ideally) three months WWOOFing and housesitting around Australia
• Late December: (ideally) three more months of the same around New Zealand
• March: head back to the US East Coast and meander westward doing even more of the same
• May: hellooooooo again, Oregon!

Obviously this is all subject to change, with the October-June schedule being highly variable depending on how much it actually costs us to do this leg of the trip.

But now you know as much as we know... So what are YOUR plans from now until May? Come on, it's only fair!

Rest for the weary.

Been feeling really antsy the past few days, and we've finally figured out why. We've been in Central Europe for two weeks. Aside from a few fairly calm days in Bialowieza, we have city-hopped. Three days each in Warsaw, Wroclaw, Prague - each beautiful in its own way, but each filled with tourists, and too many things to do each day (with never enough time or energy), and too many ways to spend money.

We are just not city people. We knew this before we left; it was strongly reinforced in metropolitan cities in Canada and on the US east coast.  One day - sure, two days - okay, but three days?  Three days and we're done. After Krakow and Budapest we will seek out smaller towns.

Add to constant sensory overload: our stays in 4- or 6-bed dorms in hostels where a good nights' sleep is rare; long bus rides where you're crammed in like sardines; not knowing the language; eating whatever you can cobble together; feeling overwhelmed from lack of time to figure out what's next...  Well, it's been exhausting.  Amazing - don't get us wrong - but exhausting.

The construction estimate rule applies to many things; long-term travel may be one of them.  We have agreed to determine how much time we *think* we need in a place, and then double it to allow for planning, rest, communication catch-up and laundry while in that place.  We'll test the construction estimate rule in Krakow in a few weeks and see how that fares.

We have also agreed to limit daily outings to 5-6 hours to allow for rest...  We have failed miserably there.  Too much to see to just sit around!  Sigh.

Another challenge: we have not yet mastered the art of enjoying our current place and simultaneously figuring out where to go next.   We do one or the other pretty well, but not both simultaneously.  We've pencilled out a tentative route for the rest of Central Europe - we want to stay flexible but we only have 90 days here, and we are exploring volunteer opportunities, and we don't want to miss any essentials, so some iota of a plan is necessary. The tricky part is the line between "iota" and "actual" plan.  Still working on that definition...

Back to the point of this post - it's time to get back to the "slowly" part of "slowly global" and get some rest.  Mental rest, anyway.  For the next 10 days or so, while we figure out the details of our next self-guided stop, we will be helping out at the farm and vineyard of a Czech family.  Very excited to see how our WWOOF experience translates to European Help Exchange, very curious to learn more about the Czech culture, very interested in being tired from manual labor instead of sightseeing - and thrilled to learn a little something about the inner workings of a winery!

Gooooooooooooooals!

Annual goal planning just wrapped up at work.  I am obviously excused from this activity but as a joke I sent "2013 goals" to my boss and manager peers the other day - more or less the following list:

• Successfully execute a slow RTW trip.  Metrics: 
• on budget
• # of countries visited, avg length of stay/country
• ratio of airplanes to buses/trains taken, ratio of volunteer days to self-funded days
• Increase social network at least 25% through active engagement with fellow travelers. Metrics: 
• # of new friends we make via people we know, or who we meet on the road
• % increase in Facebook page “like”s 
• % increase in travel blog page views and comments
• Perfect the art of spontaneity by having a general route - but not a detailed plan. Metrics: 
• # of countries/sights visited that were not in the original route
• # of recommendations from locals that trump our plan on any given day
• periodic stress level measurements on a scale of 1-5 from not having a detailed plan
• Learn how to milk goats, stretch goal: learn how to make goat cheese.  Metrics: 
• quarts of goat milk and pounds of goat cheese generated 
• goat milk and goat cheese subsequently consumed
• pounds gained from all the goat milk and goat cheese consumption

Pretty sure I was the only one who thought this was funny.

(Actually, I still think it's pretty funny...)

urban goat: do not milk

On planning, but not really planning. (But really, lots and lots of planning.)

Today is March 21.

We officially drive out of Portland on April 21.

Holy.  Crap.

This is not like packing up for a 3-week trip to New Zealand or Argentina, which we both did independently last year.

This is not like when I left for South America for four months in 2010.  I downsized, sure, but I left essentials in a 5x10 storage unit and I knew exactly when I was coming back.

This is actually a pretty big deal.

Almost every day now, one of us looks up and says "gaaaaaaaaaa we have so much to do!!!"  This causes a temporary panic and we go to the list... and then we calm down because we have crossed so many things off lately.  We've figured out daily budgets, packing lists, and health/travel insurance (more to come on all these later).  We have a list of visa requirements for the countries we know we want to visit, most of which we can get upon arrival, some of which we will need to take care of on the east coast where we'll also get our extra passport photos, Hostel International memberships and vaccinations (and where we will figure out what to do with Patrick's car).  We've set up general methods of communication including but not limited to what you're reading here (see "find us on" sidebar). 

We have the Canada leg pretty well lined up and we have all sorts of maps to get us to our various destinations (thanks, awesome future WWOOF hosts and AAA).  We're on alert for Skyscanner cheap flights to Poland in late August/early September.  And as far as the post-Canada portion of our trip... other than having a general destination and general route, We. Don't. Want. To. Plan.

We have tons of great advice from people we didn't even know would have advice.  (That's probably been the most amazing discovery over the last few weeks. Networking is easy when you find folks who are in the same frame of mind as you.)  So far no one has raised a question or concern that we haven't already thought about.

Granted, there are lots of little things to check off:

• notifying the landlord, utilities, banks and credit card companies
• shipping "must keep" memorabilia to safe havens or dropping personal boxes off with gracious friends who have offered to host a small space of stuff for us
• determining the best cloud storage option for our music and photos for easy (and weightless) access on the road
• trying to see our favorite Portland bands one last time
• last visits with family and friends
• selling my car and prepping for our moving sale in a few weeks (gaaaaaaaaa okay, those are not so little)

So we do one or two little things, and then we go for a run or I do yoga while he reads and then we watch a fascinating documentary about domes. 

While our daily freak-outs continue and will probably increase in frequency and duration over the next four weeks, I feel pretty good about what we've already accomplished and I am pretty confident that we know what we have to accomplish in the next few weeks and later on the east coast.  I'm grateful for my years of project management experience. I'm grateful for all the internet advice that has helped us get to this point.  I'm grateful for my east coast family and friends who will help us wrap up our task list later this summer. I'm grateful to have a partner in crime who helps me through my daily freak-outs, and who is just as eager as I am to check things off the list.

But mostly, I'm just grateful to have a moment of peace in a crowded bar where we can celebrate this milestone.  One more month!

Dry Fly Wheat, Yamazaki

Hopefully they won't be like Maggie's farm.

I have always wanted to see what farm life is all about and we hope to keep the Canada leg of our trip on the less expensive side, so World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms (WWOOF for short) seemed like the logical choice.  Best case scenario?  Free lodging and meals in exchange for a half day of mending fences, planting crops, weeding, learning the ins and outs of organic farming, hanging out with baby cows, and having the rest of our time to explore.  Worst case scenario?  We don't get along with the hosts, pack up our stuff and move along.  Not such a worst case.   Friends had spoken highly of their experiences WWOOFing which helped to put our minds at ease.

Friends also recommended lots of research before committing.  As somewhat cautious and fairly introverted people, we were definitely interested in making sure we didn't end up like Bart, and we didn't want to lose sleep every night at a party farm (if those exist?).  I haven't seen much advice out there about choosing a WWOOF spot so I thought I'd narrate our introduction to this process.  In short - ever job hunted?  Yeah, it's like that.

As we started our search we had a few key things in mind:

• Location
• Duration (no more than 2 weeks given our schedule)
• Hours per day (no more than 6 hours/day, no more than 5 days/week)
• Types of farms (dairy, garden, etc)
• Tasks (not just painting fences)
• Lodging (preferably separate accommodations to ensure down time - see introvert comment above)
• Availability of hiking and/or water activities (ideally)
• Working with farm animals (ideally)

Location didn't take long - Patrick was interested in checking out the Gulf Islands of Vancouver, that sounded good to me, so we focused there.  Easy.

However.  Narrowing down the WWOOF opportunities using our other criteria was quite the ordeal.  So many wonderful farms!  Such beautiful pictures of gardens and surrounding scenery!  "OMG does their description really say garden piglets - how can we possibly say no to that??"  The list of criteria grew to include the size of the farm, last login to the WWOOF site, whether they had kayaks available...  Five hours and one ranked spreadsheet (with columns like "cheese?" "sheep?", and "recreational activities in the area?") later, we had our top choices. 

We sent our first introductory email, toasted our accomplishment... and checked email every five minutes for the next week anxiously waiting for a reply. 

Crickets.

Slightly disappointed, we sent off a few additional emails to our remaining top choices.  The first host to reply was no longer hosting.  We set up a Skype call with the second host who replied; she was very nice but we weren't sure about personality fit and the timing wasn't going to work out anyway. 

We were mentally preparing for another weekend of spreadsheet mania when the third host replied, offered an alternate proposal to our dates but also hooked us up with a nearby farm to round out our originally proposed timeframe, and confirmed - all within a few days. This act of generosity touched me and I'm excited to meet these folks, they seem like really good people.

Time will tell how these first couple of opportunities pan out but we think the selection process worked pretty well overall.  Here are a few things I'd like to do differently for the Nova Scotia leg of Canada:

• Cater intro emails better.  Much like a job cover letter, really emphasize that you've read up on their farm and highlight opportunities of particular interest.
• Don't wait a week to hear back.  Farmers are busy people, but we're on a bit of a schedule too.
• Include whether they have reviews in our weighting.  Some farms looked amazing but I had to wonder why they'd been WWOOF hosts for 5 years and no one had posted a review.
• When in doubt, Skype.  This helped us quickly eliminate one option that probably would've been tolerable for 2 weeks, but would definitely not have been our ideal situation.

And now, off to do some core work to make sure our backs can withstand manual labor after years of sitting in cubes...

The general idea.

including, but not limited to...

Not listed: starting this journey with a road trip across Canada. More to come on that...

But the general plan is to head east, find a cheap flight to London along the way, maybe stay for a bit in Ireland or Portugal before heading to Eastern Europe.  There's a pesky 90-day restriction in Europe that we are contending with, so we'll see what happens.

Then down to Turkey (and Morocco?) and then over to Southeast Asia.  Possibly the Australia area, although that starts to get pretty pricey.  And then back to South America to wander our way north.

Overwhelming?  A bit.

Ambitious?  You bet.

Excited?  ... Totally!

And so it begins.

In today's mail we received the first tangible evidence of our impending RTW trip.  Until this point it’s been fairly theoretical and almost entirely virtual in nature. You know, lots of “what if” conversations, spreadsheets of budgets and to-do lists, daydreaming while watching Long Way Down or Full Circle.

Sure, we purchased the Canadian WWOOF membership a while ago just to start browsing.  We've invested in warm layers but those could be useful just for camping trips.  We got a new waterproof camera but that could just come in handy over the Portland winter. This little piece of paper (which appears to have been hand-typed by a little old lady in some small Canadian province) is the first thing we can solidly hold in our hands that says “WE ARE DOING THIS”.

To that end, we thought we’d offer some of the most common questions we anticipate, and our answers to those questions.

Why do you want to do this?
P: Growing up in a small city in Oregon with easy access to the mountains and ocean, I developed an early appreciation of nature. Numerous weekends I'd find myself in the back of a wandering car, meandering down a quiet logging road or foothill fire lane; sometimes to dead end beaches or deserted dunes. It didn't matter to my parents what the destination of our journeys would be. Only that the journey was happening past rhododendron filled forests, or a rocky coastline, or along a ice cold stream. Nature was where they wanted to be most of the time, when time permitted.

Now I'm older. And, I've carried that local wanderlust with me. Enjoying what this beautiful state offers to it’s native child. Only, recent conversations brought to my attention the many local places I have not seen within my birthplace paradise. Which got me to thinking... I've got the rest of my life to explore Oregon and all it's wonders, I'm ready to take my wanderlust global. There are too many beautiful places to visit on this planet. I want to learn from other native children what makes their “Oregon” special to them, and peek inside their natural world to see what makes them feel awed. My close compadre and I are off to see, do, and listen about the places that make others feel the way I feel about my great state of Oregon.

J: I’ve tried to write an answer to this question numerous times, but I keep coming back to what she said. Unlike her, I wasn’t a headstrong child, I’m not married or mortgage-riddled, and while I love sharing my experiences with whoever runs across them, I have no expectations of turning this into a travel writing career. (Don’t get me wrong - that would be awesome - it’s just not what is driving me.)

But like her, I keep thinking that there must be more to life than this. And that sentiment is reinforced by every person who hears our story and says, “I wish I could do that.”

So why don't they?  As I get older I find that I need to learn every day to stay engaged. Traveling teaches me how other cultures treat life, and in my limited experience we Americans have a lot to learn. But it's not just that - from traveling I also learn patience. I learn humility. I learn gratitude.

There is a line in my favorite Barbara Kingsolver book, Animal Dreams: “What keeps you going isn't some fine destination but just the road you're on, and the fact that you know how to drive.” It’s time to start driving. I understand that not everyone has the luxury of taking this much time off to travel. I feel incredibly fortunate that I do, and I hope to give back in each place we visit as a way of thanking the universe.

Aren’t you scared?
J: Yes... but not in the way you probably mean.  I’m scared of waking up in 15 years only to get ready for my cube job while I wait out retirement.

And in the way that you probably mean, well... anything that could happen to me outside of Portland could just as easily happen to me inside of Portland - probably easier, in fact, since my guard is rarely up here. I kept my wits about me in South America (and crazy taxi drivers aside, that worked out well), I’ll do the same on this trip, and whatever happens will happen.

P: Well, yes.  Who wouldn’t be scared of walking away from an income, the security of a roof over your head every night, a pantry full of food, and all the comforts you expect in our fortunate society.  But I’m discovering this false sense of security and comfort is lulling me into idleness; the day to day routines dulling my senses.  I crave change!!  And what better way to force change upon yourself than shedding all your possessions and venturing off into the world.  Yes, I am afraid of what is to come.  I also feel more alive each day closer to our departure date, leaving all this behind to hit the road.

How do you even plan something like this?
J & P:  Excellent question that we ask ourselves almost every day.  Let us know when you find a good answer...!

But seriously.  So far our approach has been to scrimp and save as much as possible, slowly start to purge our possessions, immerse ourselves in RTW blog research, and map out a general route which includes must-see places, potential volunteer spots, and considerations about visa requirements, budget, weather, and general safety and security.

 a typical weekend lately

a typical evening lately

The best advice we’ve seen is to not plan. (That’s about the hardest thing for a project manager to hear... but Jen is coping with it rather nicely.)

So... what IS your plan?
J: Thanks for asking!  Read on...