Embracing Adventure

An excerpt from my personal journals (thanks to the NaNoWriMo challenge)

Wishing you a Hopeful Thanksgiving

On this Thanksgiving, as I reflect on the traditions and people being missed around the dinner table and the strange new ways we find to celebrate, I am sad but also hopeful. We are all on a strange new adventure together. I know we can be scared but we can still find joy. Joy in the rising of dough, in the color of autumn’s fallen leaves, in the splashing of birds in puddles of rainwater, in the warmth of a cozy blanket. Joy in fond memories of adventures past. And as the sun sets on this day, even if we are scared or sad in this moment, may we also find a joy in embracing with wonder and hope whatever strange unknown new adventures still await ahead.

a passage from my personal journal - when I had no idea what life adventures lie ahead…

When I was young I discovered that goals can be met in a variety of ways. I could put in hours of hard work - like I did in school with grades or sports. But other goals had to overcome fears in order to be achieved.

For a fairly sheltered child from a semi-secluded town, heading off to college was one of my greatest adventures. I was scared at first being on my own and sharing a room with someone I didn’t know, but quickly was in awe of the new world that opened up before me. I loved the independence of living away from my parents, making my own decisions, and quickly found employment on campus enabling me to embrace my new independence and say goodbye to living with my parents. I felt truly accountable just to me and it was an amazing feeling.

Campus life also allowed me to meet many amazing people in my classes and at my various jobs. One thing that I enjoyed the most and kept me grounded in school was joining the volleyball club. This wasn’t an intramural team (although I did those too), but a club that would travel around to tournaments in the area. Side note: I did try out as a walk-on for the University volleyball team, but was quickly told I was just too short for college - at least for their college team. Of course, that may have been their polite way of saying “no, thanks”. I made a number of friends during my time on the team, and now wish I had done a better job of staying in touch with them. Our coach was the brother of one of our teammates (with whom I also played a few doubles tournaments) as well the boyfriend of a former college player from the school. He was intense, competitive, and quite fun, and very good at volleyball. One of my teammates was also from my competing high school and eventually became my roommate for a year or so. It was during this time, in my first year of college, I had my first major crush. He was a quiet and intense guy who also played volleyball and would meet up with me to practice every so often or sometimes to go out for coffee at The Last Exit where we would watch the chess masters playing at their designated booths. A couple years older, I thought he was smart and cute, and despite warnings from my other volleyball friends (who were definitely socially wiser than I), I thought he liked me - at least for more than as a volleyball friend. I found out later he actually lived in a fraternity and had a girlfriend. More importantly (and the point of this story) however, was that he introduced me to a friend of his - Brent. His friend was also quiet and reserved, but when I met him he told me stories of his recent return from traveling alone through South America. I was in awe. And here is where a seed was planted. I wanted to travel, alone, too.

So, as I explored this new independence of college life, I decided I wanted to also explore further. I started saving my money, and made a plan. While excited for an adventure, I also recognized being fearful of traveling by myself somewhere I didn’t know the language. So, it was in my third year of college, with California being the furthest I had ever travelled before, I decided to take a quarter off and travel to Germany (and German-speaking countries) on my own. It was exciting and yet scary. I knew that if I was actually going to do this, I needed to keep myself accountable and tell everyone I was going. For better or worse, this was my second lesson in attaining personal goals. If I tell everyone, I will hold myself accountable.

And so it was at 20 years old, in the Fall of 1989, after saving up the $700 I needed for air travel, I prepared to hop onto a plane to Frankfurt for a tumultuous three week adventure.

Remember this was a time before cell phones, before booking through Expedia, and even before most email. I had bought a small book filled with hostel addresses for Germany, Austria, and Switzerland (German speaking countries) and several maps. I called a travel agent to book flights and buy a train pass. (Can I just say how much I love train travel in Europe? I really wish that was more of a thing in the states.) Gratefully, my parents bumped up my EuroRail pass to be first class since they were extremely worried about my plan to travel alone. I wasn’t going to object! They also gave me a calling card and an emergency visa card - just in case (which I forgot I had until I truly needed it).  

I prepared for my journey with a trip to REI. It was Fall, after all, and I would need some gear. I purchased the traditional American college traveller backpack (back then it meant a big pack with a full frame), a quality sleeping back I could attach to it, a water bottle and a raincoat. I was very glad I had all these necessities as it turned out!

It was a red-eye flight and was incredibly long, for someone who until recently had never been on a plane. I slept best I could, but the excitement and fear kept me somewhat awake. I remember getting up every so often and walking the length of the cabin because one of my parents’ friends said that’s a thing you should do. And then before long, there I was, a tired but excited American girl traveling alone in a German airport with no reservations, and just a list of youth hostel addresses, a map, and a rail pass that could take me anywhere.