December 29, 2013

by Paul Rosenthal in New Orleans, LA

Adventure travel. The phrase conjures images of Indiana Jones, exotic bazaars bursting with unfamiliar fruit, and thrilling dives into piranha-infested rivers. So, when I raised my hand to join Team Last Responders nearly a year ago, on the promise of adventure travel, I wasn’t quite expecting to wake up in the back of an ambulance parked in a strip mall somewhere near Charlotte, North Carolina, with hardly a piranha in sight.

The travel part of “adventure travel” is deadly accurate, of course. Hour after hour on the highway, often rattling along through the entire night (and believe me, old ambulances rattle), definitely covers the travel part. But it might be more accurate to call it “uncertainty travel.” Uncertainty is your most faithful companion.

Where will I sleep tonight? Will I find a bathroom? Did I pack the power cord? Can I brush my teeth in a strip mall? If I don’t shave two days in a row, will I start to look like one of those scary old men who sits next to you on the subway, stares at your ear for an uncomfortable time, then asks if you like grapefruit? Does this gas station sell diesel? Which road should I take? If I’m not sure where I’m headed, does it matter which road I take?

I’m sure that the adventure quotient will go up once we’re whizzing through Guatemalan villages, or trying to ask directions from a Bolivian grandmother who only speaks Quechua. One can’t realistically expect too much adventure where every highway exit has a Waffle House, so I know that the exhilarating thrills will come later.

Still, I suspect that even once we venture farther south and are poking about in Mayan ruins or hobnobbing with Vicuñas, uncertainty will probably still rule the day. Can we park here? Will we hit our next milestone on schedule? Do penguins bite?