Who Else Is Having A Quarter-Life Crisis?

With just over a month to my 25th birthday, I’ve been doing some serious thinking about my life, what I’ve accomplished up until now, and what I hope to accomplish in the years to come. But the more I look at my current situation and the situation of those around me, the more I realize that we 20-somethings are all in a strange and trying time of our lives.

This week I met up with one of my good friends from high school, Matt Dawson. After high school, Matt moved to Australia and worked as a missionary for a group called YWAM. Eight years later, he is married, has two kids, and is still working with YWAM youth ministry program. Matt’s income is derived almost entirely from donations of those who believe in what he is doing for the church and with a wife and two kids to support, you can imagine just how difficult that might be at times.

Then last Saturday I held a small get-together/movie night at my parents’ house. But before everyone came over for the movie, Travis Miller and his new wife Kelli came for a visit. We talked for a bit about their honeymoon in Jamaica and then I followed them over to their new apartment near the University of Channel Islands. I couldn’t stay long, but it looked like they were settled in for the most part and doing quite well for their first week of marriage back in civilization.

After visiting with Travis and Kelli, I rushed back to my parents’ house and met up with my friends Eric, Wes, Sharon, and David. David and Sharon brought friends of their own.

We all ate hamburgers (Except for me. I ate a veggie burger.) and then went inside to watch Brook Silva-Braga’s incredible backpacking film, “A Map For Saturday.”

My hope in showing this movie to my friends was that I might encourage some of them to meet me in Europe this winter. The movie was such an inspiration for me, but it didn’t seems to have the same impact on my friends. Money was brought up as the main reason for not going. Commitments to friends, family, and work were also discussed.

The next day I took a train down to San Diego. My aunt and uncle picked me up at the train station and then drove me back to their home on Coronado island.

Once in Coronado, we spent a lot of time talking about my upcoming travel plans, my aunt and uncle’s travels through Ireland, and a bunch of other random topics. In addition, we went out to eat Mexican food, explored some of the local shops, and then I fixed up Aunt Christi’s bicycle so we could all go on a ride.

We all started out from Tom and Christi’s home, but Christi returned after just a short while. Tom and I continued down The Strand for a couple miles and returned home just as the sun was setting. I loved seeing all the people out on bikes in Coronado. That just isn’t something you see where my parents live and it isn’t even as popular here in Park City where the mountains make it difficult for the average person to just get out and ride.

On Wednesday I took a plane back to Salt Lake City. I then drove in a pimped out Cadillac Escalade back to my condo and began the long and tedious process of moving all my stuff back in from the basement.

It was great to return home to a clean environment. I always like coming back here to Park City because it’s like starting over again. Every time I return home I get to decide how I will reorganize my furniture, how I will organize my days, and how I will plan out the rest of my life.

Then yesterday I went on a hike. It was my first hike since returning to Park City. I saw a snake and traveled about 6 miles on foot. It wore me out and I didn’t accomplish much for the rest of the day.

More than anything, my recent trip to California made me realize that I’m going through a strange time in my life. A lot of crazy things are happening. I’m an adult now and I’ve got a lot more responsibilities. I’ve also realized that compared to a lot of my friends, I don’t have hardly any responsibilities at all. And while I love the life I have now, I don’t want to be doing the same things a year from now. I need to constantly be changing and I think this trip to Europe is going to force me to make those changes. Force me to be more independent. Force me to make my own decisions. Force me to stand on my own. Force me to meet more people.

Travis Miller’s Wedding

Today my best high school friend, Travis Miller, got married. Since moving to Utah I’ve only talked to Travis a handful of times, but he was the first person to come and visit me in Utah – even if he was only there for two days.

I was asked to help videotape the ceremony with another high school friend, Katina Bartalone (now married as Katina Bergen), so I had a somewhat active role in the ceremony.

The wedding and reception was at a great Camarillo home in the hills between Camarillo and Santa Rosa. There was a luxurious swimming pool, small guesthouse, huge kitchen, and more!

What was most incredible about this wedding was the fact that I knew an incredible amount of people in attendance. It seemed that everyone there was someone I once knew back in elementary school, high school, or college.

My elementary school friend Michael Floryan was there with his new wife Jackie and brother Matt (who went to my college and majored in film just like I did).

Mr. and Mrs. Draine were there (parents of some old elementary school friends) and so were the Stevens (also elementary school friends).

My first soccer coach, Mr. Mark Cardella, and his wife were there.

Gabe Pascillas (a high school acquaintance) and Luke Campbell (high school friend and soccer teammate) were also there.

And my whole family was in attendance as well. My mom, dad, and sister.

I could go on, but you get the point. It was crazy just how many people were there that I knew.

Now that Travis is married, I’ve only got two close friends who have yet to tie the knot. Everyone else has already been married… and some already have kids!

It was great to see everyone, but it was strange to be back in Camarillo and seeing all these familiar faces. It just makes me feel old and a bit out of place.

Eight Days In Aruba: My Cycling Adventure

Earlier this summer I traveled for eight days to the island of Aruba. My parents have a timeshare that they own and at the last minute they decided that they weren’t going to be able to use it. When they said I could use the timeshare to go wherever I wanted, I jumped at the opportunity. I did a lot of research and finally decided to travel to Aruba.

Before this trip I didn’t even know where Aruba was. I knew it was an island, but that was about all I knew.

In case you don’t know, Aruba is a small island about 25 miles north of Venezuela. It’s a part of the Dutch Caribbean and the people there speak four different languages: Dutch, Spanish, English, and the native language of Papiamento. In my entire time there, I failed to meet a single person that did not speak at least some English.

When I started my trip I flew out of Salt Lake City International and first went to Atlanta, Georgia before boarding the plane that would take me to Aruba. It was a long flight for what seemed like an island not that far away.

Because of the work I’ve been doing on my website at www.bicycletouringpro.com, I bought a Bike Friday folding bike and took it with me on the trip. The great thing about this bike is that it folds up and fits inside a standard suitcase. This is a huge benefit because you don’t have to pay any extra fees to fly with your bicycle. And now that airlines are charging for second bags and a whole host of otherwise normally free items, this will save me a huge amount of money in the future.

Anyway, once I arrived in Aruba I had to immediately put my bike together and ride to the hotel. I found a small island between to busy lanes of traffic and put my bike together here. It was so hot and humid that in just a few moments I was instantly covered in sweat. It was horrible.

Once I had the bike together I had to ride about 6 miles from the airport to the hotel. This sounded easy back home, but once I got out on the road, it was a complete nightmare. The roads in Aruba are crazy! There is no shoulder, there is glass in the road, and the drivers honk at you! To make it worse, I was pulling a trailer behind me and it was making my ride three times more difficult.

I did eventually get to the hotel, but by that time I was practically in a state of shock. I checked into my room and checked my email only to find that a guy I had been hoping to work with on a business deal had sent me a nasty email. Apparently he wasn’t much of a businessman because he misinterpreted an offer as some sort of threat. He thought I was trying to cheat him in some way, but I was actually trying to help him. He eventually realized his mistake and tried to make amends, but I was already over him. I didn’t want to work with such a jackass, so I just ignored him.

The first night in Aruba was not a good one. I was running on about an hour’s worth of sleep and I was depressed as hell. In fact, I wrote an article about the depression I was feeling and posted it on my bicycle touring site here.

The next morning I checked out of the hotel and rode with my bike and trailer down the California Lighthouse in the northeast side of the island. Once I got out of the touristy areas the ride became quite enjoyable. I spent the day looking for geocaches and riding in the dunes on the east side of the island.

Later that day I rode back to the main part of the island and checked into the timeshare resort.

The resort was located about a mile from the beach, but I found this to be a great benefit. It was away from most of the crowds and my room came with a balcony with an excellent view of the fancy resorts and casinos that line the northern coast.

Inside my room I had a bedroom, 2 bathrooms, a fully stocked kitchen, and a living room. It was more than I needed and it was my home away from home.

Most days in Aruba I woke up late, checked my email, and then went on a bike ride for a couple hours during the day. Then at night I would return home, take a shower and walk down to the tourist area to get some dinner (usually just French fries). Then I would talk back to the resort, watch some TV and eat my dinner, and then go down to the pool, check my email again, and write some articles for my bicycle touring website.

 

As I think back on it now, these were perfect days. I was doing everything that I like to do! I could sleep in late, go on a bike ride, eat my dinner in peace, and hang out on the Internet. If I could work my life out so I could do this every single day, I’d be a very happy person.

I could go into great detail and tell you every little thing that happened to me out there, but I’d rather not. Instead, I’ll share some photos with you and that will be it.

To wrap things up I’d simply like to state that when I first got to Aruba I nearly had a panic attack and wanted to leave immediately. But once I got settled in I really began to enjoy myself and didn’t want to leave. I could have easily stayed there for another few weeks. I really liked it… and I’m sure glad I went.

To learn more about my trip to Aruba… and to learn how I used my Bike Friday folding bike while on this short excursion, I have created a bunch of material which you can purchase for a small fee. This material is called “Traveling With A Folding Bike - Cycling In Aruba” and is available online at my website at BicycleTouringPro.com.