Westward from the Davis Strait 'tis there 'twas said to lie
The sea route to the Orient for which so many died;
Seeking gold and glory, leaving weathered, broken bones
And a long-forgotten lonely cairn of stones.
Three centuries thereafter, I take passage overland
In the footsteps of brave Kelso, where his "sea of flowers" began
Watching cities rise before me, then behind me sink again
This tardiest explorer, driving hard across the plain.
And through the night, behind the wheel, the mileage clicking west
I think upon Mackenzie, David Thompson and the rest
Who cracked the mountain ramparts and did show a path for me
To race the roaring Fraser to the sea.
How then am I so different from the first men through this way?
Like them, I left a settled life, I threw it all away.
To seek a Northwest Passage at the call of many men
To find there but the road back home again.
We begin again. Anew. Afresh. Thought of beginning a new blog for the new pursuit, but botched that one - even to the point that no one may ever again use the address
tardiestexplorer.blogspot.com again. But this feels the right place regardless. Let me elaborate:
Since last checking in, the London-Scotland-Malta leg was impressively conducted, followed up swiftly by Iceland-Paris. Which has left us with new photos, excellent memories, and a burst of enthusiasm to respond to the incessant calling of the spirit's better demons - from the office and to the ever-blessed road that was so often photographed so magnificently in southern Iceland.
Followed up by conversations and aimless thoughts on the patios of various Parisian cafes.
All of which suggest, bluntly, the need for the new dream that will lead, quickly, beyond this mere office window and pile of energy-related filings, as eerily interesting as it often can be. The time is now. As the daily evenings roll by, the certainty of that simple premise is constantly confirmed. With or without her. (Though, perhaps, at times, including her?)
NYC-Bolivia-Peru: August. The planned yet contingent Egyptian odyssey: November. Unspecified opportunities, while savings accumulate: February. Followed by the March/April/May departure to Europe, through Moscow and along the fabled silken path to Samarkand by rail, overland to China, down along the Southeast coast (
as long planned, of course, we remember well, and now one more year gone). Now more than ever, old friend.
But, additionally, brilliantly, the lovely world has me thinking further - in the spirit of truly backpacking the world. For the question arises, why not continue BACK overland, rather than the Pacific return to NA? From Bangkok to Delhi. Then from Delhi to J-burg and Cape Town. Then up to Europe again and further musings on the comparable merits between Paris and London. A grand circle in 6 months or so. Or more, hell, living cheaply in the intervening months in China/SE Asia/India. As you do. Armed with pen and camera and little else. A 30th birthday present, and a fitting one.
Yeah. Such are the thoughts through my head these days. Not having given up on the idea of taking the more usual shift, to a similar job in London or NYC (or even something foolish in la belle pays). Not having given up on the desire to actually sit down and formulate a story of fiction as long imagined but never attempted. But once again putting to words the long sought vision. Who knows what is out there until we get there ourselves. It fast approaches, now. Extraordinarily, I find myself all the more ready. Surely the exploration of Inca and Egyptian ruins will only confirm the need (not merely the desire) for it. And that one bright morning will come, at last and as foretold.
Until then, preparations continue. "He traveling with me needs the best blood, thews, endurance; None may come to the trial, till he or she bring courage and health."
Yes, Uncle Walt. Soon. We'll keep you posted. Welcome back to these dreams.
