the return to the dz

The e-mails would begin to pick up. The phone calls. Who was heading out already? Who was waiting until they could no longer see their breath? Who were the die-hards and kept visiting all winter long? It was the same every spring. As soon as the snow showed signs of disappearing for good, as soon as the trees showed their buds and the frost looked like it had almost sucked its last breath, as soon as we’d had enough of the endless darkness and the bitter cold, the frozen fingers and running noses, the quivering lips and clenched spines, as soon as we thought we could no longer take any more of winter’s blanketed heaviness – spring would pop its head out of a hole for just a second, an important second, and tell us not to give up hope. She was coming. And in anticipation we pulled out the old phone tree and started looking for people to jump with, people to car-pool with, someone to bring out the firewood, someone with a truck to help with a new mattress or fridge or tv, someone to go in on that bottle of Jäger with, all so we could make sure we were present for opening weekend at our DZ.

Spring is the herald, blowing her pristine horn across the crispy air, telling us to escape from the covers and tough it out, to come and clean out your trailer, dispose of the mice droppings, wipe down the fridge, pull out the linen, dig out the heater and get ready to live a brilliant season again. And so you respond to the e-mails and you pick up the phone, and then voices that were silent for four dire months of lacklustre short days and cold nights come waltzing back into your life. And you’re talking about Florida and Arizona and new jumpsuits and canopies, courses and repacks, parties and boogies, who’s dating who and who sold their gear. You wonder if your rig will be ready in time. If your Cypres was due this winter or last. You call your rigger. You call your packer. Like an electric buzz that gets louder by the second, it begins from a tiny squeak and erupts from there.

But you know it’s not going to be wonderful just yet. Do you care? The ground will be soggy. You’ll have to push the plane across the landing area. And the mice really did try their best this year. Oh, and the leak in the corner. What a headache that is. And it’s still raining, but you think, at least it’s rain. But you still have to wear your toque, and if it weren’t for the firewood, the evening would’ve been nearly unbearable, if it weren’t for all those faces you haven’t seen for four months. Does it matter you can see your breath? Does it matter the runway is too wet? So you all go open up the hangar. Pull out the fans. Roll out the carpets. Break out the creepers. Find your hoodie you thought you lost. Breathe the free air.

Everything around you is familiar and special. You think of it as yours, but clearly it’s not. You protect it like a child. You defend it’s honour to anyone who declares any short-comings it may have. This DZ, this landing area, this firepit, this trailer park, even the staff – they are yours. They are extensions of your family. And you have a pride for them that you can’t explain. It’s a vein that runs deep, and if it ever were to disappear, well, you just can’t think about that.

You know this is why you survive through winter. This is why you own a trailer. This is why you’ve no idea what other people do on weekends. And this is where you’ll be until the trees lose their leaves, the days grow shorter, the wind returns the rosy colour to your cheeks and you look to the sky knowing the first snow is about to fall. But until then, you will skydive. You will laugh with your skydiving family. You will brush off your blood family to hang with your skydiving family. You will jump and jump and jump. And you will look around in pride at everything you have and you will wonder whatever it was you did all winter long.

the winters i remember

From my childhood I remember only the glory of winter. How it came so quick in northwestern Ontario – fall but a month of a tease cutting summer off and ushering in the brisk cold of the upper latitudes. It all happened so quickly. The worst winters were when it didn’t snow. We remember these as dark times. But as long as the snow came we were golden – we were alive – we had a brilliant world in front of us with more opportunity than every-day summer could provide. When we were kids we didn’t care of sun-filled skies or short-wearing weather. All we knew was this was ours – we had such pride for our home. We knew summer would come – but while the cold-weather was here we were going to do the things we could only do with the short hours of daylight we had. These were the glories of winter – snow-forts, gangs and hidden stashes of snowballs, sudden blizzards that white-out the street, snowbanks so high we thought we would surely die should we fall from them, throwing skates over our hockey stick blades to walk to the rink, successfully finding a puck in the snow, cold feet, chapped lips, see-through trees, mom bringing us hot-chocolate, road hockey and pick-up games, jumping from the monkey bars, skidding down tire-tracks on our boots, pulling out the most biggest piece of crusted snow, watching the northern lights, jumping out of bed ready for a snowday, going to the big hill to toboggan, skiing, wishing we had helmets, snow-sculpting contests, winter fairs, trips to the country, hayrides and spending more time running after the wagon, cross-country skiing at the oddest of times, snow-shoe baseball or at least being able to run in them, frost-bitten ears, walking home from grandma’s in the snow, creating the first footprints on freshly fallen snow, having to make our way across a field after more than one foot of snow, not getting a snow day, the Christmas lights coming down, that one last snowfall, the rink melting, hitting rocks with our skis, the first time someone wears shorts. And then one day it’s over. But we were kids. And we knew it would be back. So we tucked away our winter gear and got ready for summer – spring but a month of a tease before it was ushered away by the heat and sunshine – all wasted away at camp on some lake with our cousins and summer-time friends, just like the summer before.

travel insurance

It’s a necessary part of the budget. Finding the right kind of insurance can be difficult though. I looked and looked and ended up just buying emergency medical insurance, but I have a solid reason for this. First, though, I’m going to explain the kind of insurance available to me. I am by no means an expert. This is what I learnt from a day online researching insurance.

Who do I buy a plan from?

There are different sorts of travel insurance plans available, but before you decide what to buy, you need to know how long you’re going to be gone for. If you leave Canada for longer than 183 days you are no longer covered under your provincial health insurance plan. Travel insurance providers can subsidize medical costs (I think) through the province’s healthcare. Once you’re gone longer than six months, the cost of insurance will increase. You can use a site like www.travelinsurancereview.ca to compare different plans.

For my purposes, I booked a plan for six months with Travel CUTS Bon Voyage that I can upgrade before departure and can extend should I decide to travel for longer. Travel CUTS plans are underwritten by RBC. I used this company before when I travelled to New Zealand. I’ve never had to file a claim, so I don’t know if it’s painless, but I do know that it was cheaper than World Nomads, though World Nomads had a higher limit for lost possessions.

 What kind of plan do I buy?

If you haven’t booked a return ticket, interruption insurance is pointless. Unfortunately, there’s not many plans out there that make this an option. I have a one-way ticket. While Travel CUTS Plan D would have been a good option, it didn’t provide me with 24-hour personal accident insurance. I plan on doing some scuba, hiking and ride an elephant and all of these things could result in injury.

If you have business class or first class tickets, cancellation/interruption insurance would be a good idea. Some plans will include coverage to return home if there is an illness or death in the family. Some will also include a family member flying to be by your side should it be necessary.

Another option is personal effects and baggage coverage. While I think it’s a good idea to have this insurance, I opted out of it. It was $163 cheaper to opt out of this. I figure if my camera, laptop, phone, passport, wallet or entire backpack get stolen – I’m a moron. The option will only cover up to $300 per an item up to a max of $800. While it would be nice to not be out $800, I am convinced that I need to be a careful backpacker and not leave my things lying around or destroy them as I am often quite capable of doing. I know it’s wishful thinking, but this was a personal decision.

Exclusions?

Insurance doesn’t cover everything. For instance, I have rheumatoid arthritis. If I need to see a doctor while I’m away to refill a prescription or because I’m having a flare – it’s not covered under my plan. I would pay out the nose to have my “pre-existing condition” covered. A pre-existing condition can also be something that you haven’t even been diagnosed with yet – but have had symptoms of. While I do plan on seeing a doctor to get my Twinrix shot in April and to get my prescription refilled at some point – I plan on paying out of pocket for these things. This plan is for the emergency I can’t imagine happening.

Some sports are also excluded. Skydiving – my hobby – is not covered. Mountain climbing, scuba – if not rated by a Canadian school or PADI/SSI school, white water rafting and glacier trekking are excluded as well. Be sure to find out which activities are not covered under your plan. Or be prepared to pay the price.

Now what?

Print out all your documents. Scan them. Email them to yourself. Make sure you have some way to access the number you need to call in the event of an emergency. Make sure this number is in your wallet or money belt or where ever someone can find it should you be incapable to help them find it.

Bring a lock to lock your stuff in security lockers (if they got them) and don’t flaunt your iPhone or iPod or any other expensive loot for others to see. While most backpackers/flashpackers will have gadgets and laptops and dSLRs, you’ll also meet the guy who broke his camera, had a drink spilled on his phone or got his computer nicked at some hostel in Hanoi. Just be aware of your surroundings, try not to leave your things unattended and enjoy your trip.

inoculations and future packaging

Travel considerations: what vaccines, meds and precautions should you consider ahead of time?

Needles. Bah. But the alternative isn’t so great. There are a few recommendations from Health Canada as to what vaccines one should get before venturing to SE Asia, but I’m not getting all of them. I wish I had realized that vaccines like the hepatitis A and B shot, Twinrix®, need to be started six months before departure. I think it’s a good idea for anyone to get vaccinated against hep A and B, I just kind of spaced it these past twenty years. Whoops. How it works is you take one shot, then one a month later and then another six months after the first shot. There is a rapid schedule, but that’s four shots instead of three.

I got the first two shots in the United States at Walgreens’ walk-in clinic. It cost my nearly $150 a shot. In Ontario the shots are $70 each. But I suppose my health is worth it. I need to take the next shot whilst I’m in SE Asia, but that’s ok. Around the time it’s due I’ll be returning to Bangkok for Songkran, the Thai new year, which will be madness. The first two shots provide some immunity for a year, so as long as I get that third shot I should be fine.

I went to a travel clinic at the Thunder Bay Health Unit to get the remainder of my vaccines. The doctor was a Scottish ex-patriat who scolded me for wanting to eat street food in Thailand. Actually, his last words were, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I had to get my tdap updated which was covered under OHIP, but having the doctor hand me pamphlets, advise me on what illnesses I could contract, prescribe me drugs in case of malaria (which I didn’t fill) and travellers’ diarrhea, prescribe me an over-the-counter vaccine for typhoid and cholera (Dukoral®) and basically condescend me the whole time costs me a bargain $30 (plus the price of drugs.)

The other things to consider are anti-nauseants, bug repellent, sunscreen and after-bite stuff. (Oh, and condoms.) All of this stuff is available in SE Asia, so bringing it may be overkill, especially as my bag is only 36L. But somethings like broad-spectrum sunscreen or well-made condoms might be worth bringing them. Just like opting to not bring malaria pills – I’m sure they’ll have the drugs that aren’t malaria-resistant in whatever country I’m in should I potentially contract it. Plus, I’m already on minocycline for my rheumatoid arthritis, so doxycycline would probably be overkill. It’s all stuff that has to be considered.

I run out of my RA meds a few days after arriving in Thailand, so I plan to see a doctor there to refill my prescription as I know the drugs will be way cheaper there. Hopefully a doctor will just prescribe it to me without wanting to do a million tests – which I have just gotten done in Ontario – and plan on taking a copy of the results with me.

So nearly two weeks before I arrive in Bangkok and all I have left to do is pack, pack up my room here and get over this nasty cold that seems to have been my Christmas surprise. Merry Christmas everyone. Have a great new year.

great expectations

There’s a voice in my head that keeps informing me that I’m probably forgetting something. To this voice I can only say, who cares? I’m leaving anyway.

It was raining when I left San Diego. The cuffs of my jeans were drenched by the time I sat down for a beer in the terminal. My celebratory beer. My next great adventure lays before me, but nostalgia has a childish way of tugging at my shoulder and making me look back at it with great expectations. Did I miss something here? Was I too busy with my great problem all this time? I’m leaving anyway.

I got to Buffalo with a mild plane issue that was quickly resolved. We zipped across the border to Niagara where for years my heart had found a home. It’s different now. My pond transplant has obviously had an affect. But strands of my old life remain here.

A broken broom, three broken cameras, heaps of towels, curtains for a trailer and almost empty bottles of shampoo. My storage space was a nightmare. I tried to imagine whatever I was thinking when I kept these things. A vision of me returning to settle in Ontario came into view and I realized that was years away and likely could never happen. Oh the things I threw away that day. But I still have a storage space. At least if I return I won’t have to start completely from scratch, except I probably will have to buy towels.

A few days after my stay in Niagara I left for Thunder Bay. I thought that I would feel different. I thought that after I have sent eight boxes of my things home and filtered so much of my belongings into the garbage that there would be a much more grander feeling of anticipation into my trip home. I kept waiting for it. During the ride to the airport. At the check-in counter. At security. At the bar having a celebratory beer. And even when the boarding call came. I suppose I just don’t get that crazy excitement anymore. Pity. I miss it.

I called Thunder Bay home for 19 years before I quite eagerly left. Where my life would be had I not left is a thought I dare not ever entertain. I cannot say that the city is the same. It has changed in so many ways. It feels a little different, but still comfortable, like an old sweater or a snug bed in the winter. It’s reliable – this town. We both have a lot in common. At least where changing is considered.

There’s Christmas music everywhere. Funnily, my heart glows a little stronger each time I see a house decked out in lights and decorations. I confess – I enjoy the human spirit at this time of year. It was a good choice to come here before leaving – where it all started. Where I started. Perhaps it is as simple as returning to my roots to see how far I have really come. And how far I have yet to go. Maybe I’m not forgetting anything. But so what if I am? I’m leaving anyway. But I’ll be back.

and i will say

A million quotes exist to say why one leaves a place so dear as home. Why home no longer is quite home. Why urges rise to take flight and leave. Why for some the mere idea of staying evokes a grim foreboding. Deep in some souls the chains that bind the ease of home are soft like tin – not forged like steel. These souls were born to explore. They are not the status quo. They are the trendsetters and inventors of the new normal – long before their time. They are the creators of tomorrow. To them there will always be unknown lands.

The quotes, however, do not exist to sway the hearts of bygones and plebeians – and relate in simple soul-touching ways why convention is their kryptonite. Why they are addicted to supposition. Afraid to charge headlong into the world. Why invention should be scrutinised. Instead they breed a never-ending spree of quotes to make monotony okay. To keep them exactly where they are. To make stagnation the nouveau free.

Tallyho – I will one day cry. And from the tops of mountains I’d shout that I too am one of the visionaries! That I can transcend what I thought was nature and leap into the river of life! I will rip off the clothes that disguise me as common. I will jump from the mountain and gain notoriety for flight. I will transform the land and reshape the planet – all through the pinhole of one single mind’s eye. Fear will not sway me. My very will shall rust the might of chains. And they will quote me. Tallyho.

early preparations for SE Asia

I haven’t felt this nervous in years. It’s like teenage apprehension, or childish Christmas excitement. I kind of like it. But mixed in with that anticipation is a wariness and exigency to tread very carefully lest some bumble destroy my wanderlust plans. In less than two months I will be flying to the other side of the world to immerse myself in what I think will be a “growing experience” – something I feel I need more than a silly income at this time.

I have been packing up my room. I’ve mailed things home – far home – to my mothers – a place that has not been home-base for my derelict things for nearly ten years. I have even started buying Christmas gifts for my family – another long-neglected tradition I have skirted during my years of gallivanting from place to place at my heart’s content (and sometimes malcontent.) I will be home for Christmas for the first time in six years and I admit I’m looking forward to it. And then one month later I am leaving for SE Asia – a jaunt that is only the starting point of a two-year escapade. But more on that at another time.

packing

What I’m really looking forward to is sorting through my things and figuring out what two pairs of shorts and two tops will be my wardrobe for five months in SE Asia. How does one decide these things?

I don’t plan on bringing very much.
- laptop
- camera
- iPod (for long bus/train rides)
- note book for jotting stuff down
- small unlocked phone (just for texting and some calls)
- small tripod (maybe)

- underwear
- some socks (my feet don’t last long in flipflops)
- a warm thin hoodie
- some underwear
- 2 tanktops
- 1 dress
- 1 skirt
- 2 pairs of shorts
- one pair of pants (mostly for up north and plane trips)
- 1 pair of flip flops

- sleeping bag liner
- micro-towel
- water bladder

- some toiletries
- very little makeup
- tweezers, nail clippers
- first aid kit
- sewing kit
- meds

I’m sure this list will change some, but at the moment that’s all I can think I need.

luggage

I have gone back and forth about what backpack to bring. I currently own two. I have a 65L Osprey Aura and a 25L Billabong general purpose backpack. While the Aura has an internal frame, hip belt, water-bladder-ready-system, airstream ventilation and a bunch of panels, I am convinced it’s far too big and bulky. My 25L has no real support and while I could probably get away with using it, I think after 5 months I may get frustrated with it. I started doing some research, keeping in mind the options I like and what my comfort means to me. Five months is a long time – and that time may be extended. So I am on the verge of buying myself a new 36L Osprey Sirrus.

The Sirrus is specially designed for women. It boasts Osprey’s Air-Speed mesh backpad that suspends the pack away from the body. This allows air to pass between the back and the pack – which I’m thinking will be adorably beneficial after two months on the road in +30C heat. The Sirrus also has front panel access, is water-bladder-ready, has an internal frame, two nice top pockets to stash important stuff and a rain cover. My issue is – at $140 USD am I really sure I need to buy another backpack? Is my comfort really worth it? For five to ten months? I have made the wrong choice before, but I have endured. I know I can live with the Billabong bag, but I also know that when I’m uncomfortable I get grumpy. And I don’t want to be grumpy. This time I have the money to buy a new backpack, so I think I’m going to spoil myself this one luxury as I’ll be sleeping in hostels the whole trip – mostly.

vaccinations and medication

I’m just got my second Twinrix® shot for Hepatitis A and B protection. Twinrix® is a combination of three shots. The second is taken one month after the first and the third is taken six months after the first. I will be in Asia and can only hope I can get it done in time. There’s a place in Bangkok that may work . The first two shots alone will protect you for one year. When the third one is taken the vaccine should protect you for 15 years to life. I have an appointment at a travel clinic when I get home. I’ll be getting my tetanus, diphtheria up to date, plus whatever medication the doctor recommends for my journey.

Some people can get traveller’s diarrhea due to the difference in sanitary practices and the lack of good bugs in our digestive systems to protect us. While I’m an avid probiotic taker due to my antibiotic use for my rheumatoid arthritis, I’m not sure how easy it will be to get my daily supply of probiotics while there.

Due to my RA I also have to bring along a good supply of my medication, anti-inflammatories and a small dose of prednisone just in case I have a flare while I’m there. Currently I’m kind of in remission. Yay! But this disease is tricky so I’m not taking any chances.

I also need the first aid kit and some Polysporin. I’ve heard almost any cut can get infected in the tropics, no matter how small, so I plan on avoiding that. I am a clutz and I’m sure I’ll get my fair share of scrapes and bang-ups.

plan of attack

I haven’t one. Not really anyway. But I still have over a month to start taking notes and figuring out where I want to go and what I want to see. I already have a lot of ideas due to so many great travel blogs and websites out there. This plan will likely change – but for now I fly into Bangkok January 12, 2012. I’m staying with a friend for a few days there and then I think I will either head north or head to Myanmar.

Can you tell I’m excited? Is it too early to get this stuff sorted? Well, no, not really. Christmas is right around the corner and many things I may need to bring may sell out. Plus, the vaccinations need to be done ahead of travel. And then there’s ensuring I get things cheaper than I can buy them back home in Thunder Bay. I love my hometown, but I get more selection and better pricing here.

So that’s it for now. I’m continuing to work on my  new website nearlyintrepid.com which will be the focus of my postings from SE Asia. I’ll be writing and posting a lot more than usual, so I hope everyone who follows gets a good kick out of it. I will still continue to post on humanbeen. Until next time.