The Countdown Begins

T minus 15 months... and counting.

That's how far out Robert and I now are from our stated launch date to Tahiti in May 2011 -- and so much needs to get done!  I can't even begin to detail the laundry list of tasks both big and small that must be taken care of to ensure we set sail.

If I dwell on the multitude of reasons why the venture ought not happen, it won't... and there wouldn't be much reason for writing this.  Call us fools (it happens a lot, we're used to it), but our plan is to procede "as if" everything necessary will happen in the alloted timeframe, no matter how niggling or challenging the obstacle may seem to us.  Call it a wing or a prayer.  We're not ignoring the challenges, just playing 'em one game at a time so the whole season ahead doesn't overwhelm us.

Part of my job during the coming days, weeks and months is to document the process as it unfolds.  Of course, should we fail in our purpose at any point along the way, this will all seem like a futile gesture leading to naught (besides heaps and heaps of public embarrassment).

But I'd rather risk that than stay safe and secure in harbor.  I've tried that method for too long now and can conclude with absolute certainty that it doesn't work -- it is a failed philosophy and must be discarded at once.

So far, only I, Bryan, have posted entries on this blog, but I'm hoping that Robert will soon join in.  He's the brains of this undertaking and the inspiration.  He's also a retired rocket scientist, and the butt of neverending brainy jokes that must get wearisome, as you'll soon find out.  When people say, "Yeah, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist," we in the family just smile.  We happen to have one of those creatures around and can speak from firsthand experience whereof that particular cliche comes.

Part of the attraction of our pairing for this trip is how similar yet dissimilar we are.  He's got all the science cred, plus a great appreciation for the art and culture that he was too busy making a career to have time for.  Whereas I'm the guy your mother warned you about, the one who insisted on studying German and the Great Books while he should have considered what he planned to do with all that fancy but impractical book learnin'.

If you've ever read Zen and the Art of Motorcyle Maintenance (here I go), that's what most of our conversations tend to be like.  It's kind of a snoozefest for those not inclined to discussing matters of the head and heart -- many an acquaintance simply rolls their eyes whenever we bring subjects like these up --  but it joins us in a rather tight bond, purely by way of subtraction.  Without each other, who the hell would listen to us?

While it won't surprise us if you feel likewise, we're also hoping that a fairly substantial community of thoughtful people exists out there in the blogosphere who are tired of, as Neil Peart says, "so much style without substance, so much stuff without style."

I'll be quoting Neil a lot -- he and Henry David Thoreau and Paul Theroux -- for they are my travel heroes.  I personally -- and we collectively -- respect those who set off on epic quests for the sake of conquering them, but neither of us is inclined that way in the slightest.  In fact, it would drive us both crazy if either of us were.  Inner reflection is a non-negotiable in our world.

The inside and the outside need correlation, is another way of looking at it.  Otherwise, life boils down to so much stuff.  We are tremendous collectors, we humans, as a species.  Sometimes it appears that the only purpose of doing anything is so that we can show off our bobbles and pretty trinkets in front of others.  And to woo women, I suppose.  But that's not what this is about here -- at least in the theory behind the launching of this project.

Another favorite Peart line for me is this: "the way out is the way in..." which to me means that our outer lived experience doesn't add up to much unless it's connected to a Socratic questioning and awareness.  The unexamined life isn't worth living.  So what this won't be is a collection of mooseheads on the wall.

The Sierra Club motto reads: Take only photographs, leave only footprints.  And, to the best of our abilities, we shall adopt it as ours.