Twenty-three years ago I was contemplating my upcoming 40th birthday. It was still almost a year away, but it’s one of those numbers that can cause a person to take stock of her life and consider what’s ahead. Turning 30 had given me the same thoughts, but it turned into trepidation and angst. At the storied age of 29, I thought I’d done everything I wanted to do. Thirty was old! It was the beginning of the end. I was maudlin.
It took a few months to snap out of my turning-30 funk. As I approached 40, I was determined to not end up the same way. After all, I reasoned with myself, that fourth decade had been decent. I had a good job. I had a couple of great kids. Why not look ahead? In fact, why not come up with a reason to look forward to 40 and beyond? It struck me that’s what had been missing when I turned 30 … something to look forward to!
I mulled that over a bit. I considered what I truly enjoyed. I pondered dreams I’d forgotten. I tossed around a few ideas and came up with a plan. I wanted to get out and see the world. I’d take it easy, just one trip a year. I’d go through the alphabet and visit all the places I’d always dreamed of seeing. I decided on two simple rules: It had to be someplace I’d never been before and it had to be outside the 48 contiguous US states.
At the time, the 48-state rule seemed reasonable. After all, when I got to the end of the alphabet I would be 66 and might need all the ramps and handicapped accessibility features available in the U.S. Then I could start over and stick to road trips while seeing the country of my birth. I added another rule after the first year … I couldn’t plan future trips until I was done with the next one. That rule came about when I started obsessing about the “B” trip and spent too much time and effort thinking ahead. My “A” trip was overshadowed by my obsession.
Fast forward to now. I’ve ticked off every letter from A to W. I have a mere three letters remaining to successfully complete my plan. I have incredible memories. I’ve done some spectacular things. BUT there are more than three places left on my bucket list. In fact, the list grows longer faster than it gets shorter.
As I traveled the world these past 23 years, I’ve been to all but two continents. I paddled a canoe through caves and climbed Mayan ruins in the jungles of Belize. I jumped off a cliff strapped to a man and paraglided over Lima, Peru. I mounted a horse and rode for a week through the Carpathian Mountains of Romania. I swam in the crystal clear, blue waters off Poliegos, Greece.
COVID put a pause in my plan and I lost a couple of years due to worldwide restrictions and quarantines, but I doubled up two years and I’m back on my original schedule.
As I look ahead to the final three years, I realize I’m breaking my “think ahead” plan. There are those last two continents to tick off … Australia and Antarctica. There are several places and experiences I need to squeeze in before I get to the end. I haven’t been on an African safari, yet. I still need to spend a few nights in an overwater bungalow in the South Pacific. I want to see Angkor Wat. I’ve penciled in some ideas to tick off the most important things on the list, but I’ve also realized I’m never going to stop traveling. Once I finish the alphabet, I’ll keep grabbing my passport and heading off to the far corners of the world. As it turns out, my prediction of 20-plus years ago was wrong: I’m still in great health and not ready for a walker!
After all, there’s a whole world out there just waiting to be explored. Someone’s gotta do it!
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