The Midclass Crisis

I've currently found myself in the small Peruvian town of Ollantaytambo. Completely out of my element and immersed in a culture so incredibly different from the one my 22 years has made me comfortable with. I didn't arrive here on a whim or by the flip of a coin though. The adventure to arrive here was an endeavor of it's own. I'd like to take a few moments to walk through this endeavor, for it lays down the reasons and principles among why I'm here. Enjoy...

A few months ago, I had tallied up a whopping four years at Boise State University. Switching between numerous majors, searching for guidance, experiencing college life, and eventually landing myself as a chemistry major. Throughout this last year, I had reached what could be considered my peak academic performance. School had become a routine and I had become a mechanic of that routine. Things would fall in and out of place as my social exploits changed, but life always seemed to have a way of running smoothly with a little attention. Running reactions in one lab, observing species population in another, absorbing the knowledge projected from a brain in front of the whiteboard, and still not missing a beat within the group I socialized with. School always seemed to be on the backboard, but it was a backboard free of clutter and confusion. It simply worked and that's all there was to it.

The pivotal moment in my life that caused this current quest occurred on an October night in Boise, Idaho. It was around 7pm and I was staring out the window of my biochemistry class, observing the brightly lit up parking garage that seemed to be free of shadows. Hearing the professor through one ear and processing only about a quarter of what I heard, I realized he was asking the class a question. My ears dialed in a bit, although my gaze didn't breaking from the window view. The usual presence of pupil silence following a question occurred. As he repeats the question, my eyes dismiss the window view and visually recall the exact page of my notes which walks through his question. I simply raise my hand and answer the question. So far this story may seem mundane, boring, or possibly accomplishing, but this very moment marked a turning point in my life. You see, I knew exactly what needed to be known, yet I felt absolutely no satisfaction nor accomplishment by possessing such knowledge. Years of commitment and determination had been required to build the foundation around the knowledge I possessed, yet it held no value for me. At that very moment, I knew Wednesday night biochemistry class was not where I needed to be. I rose from my seat, apologized to my instructor, and walked out of the classroom. While shutting the door gently behind me and continuing on with a gentle stride, tears of confusion began spilling out of me. I didn't know what I wanted or needed, but I knew I wasn't going to achieve it through the routine I had formed. I went home that night with a lot on my mind, but without a mere inkling of what to do with it all. I fell asleep with my thoughts running far faster than my dendrites could handle.

Through this mental skirmish, I realized I had to be doing something that drove me. Something I was passionate about. Something that kept me pushing myself in a positive direction. For the last four years, there's been a passionate component of my life that has never let me down and has instead provided numerous opportunities which have changed my life. It has introduced me to bliss, pain, solitude, denial, and friendship that have all led to a better me. This passion of mine is bicycles. Riding, buying, working on, researching, conversing about, looking at, washing, etc. Everything about them. The beauty of a bicycle is something that I have trouble explaining to those who don't feel the same way. My life can be falling apart, piece by piece, yet it all seems pity the moment my shoe clips into my pedal. The instant my hand touches the first grip, I know a period of solitude and happiness is about to ensue. It's a world I get lost in, without any resistance. Bicycles are my passion.

The summer prior, a good friend of mine, Justin, turned me on to a magazine article about a rider's experience on the infinitely descending trails of Bolivia and Peru. It seemed to contain every aspect of my dream rides. I read the article with a watering mouth, but had placed it in the back of my mind. The week following my midclass crisis, I found myself reading the same article again. At that moment, I became aware I needed to share my adventurous spirit with my passion. Within the hours that ensued, a resume and bio was written up and sent to Gravity Bolivia/Peru (both South American guide companies.) It was a whim of excitement, to which I expected nothing in response. Over the next few weeks/months, correspondence occurred back and forth. Before I knew it, I had a job, a ticket was purchased, and I was on course for Peruvian soil.

Along the way, it's required overcoming many financial and emotional obstacles. I've met somebody, my girlfriend Ashley, that I want to spend every moment with, yet had to leave to follow my passion. I worked long days for weeks on end in order to barely afford it. I made the decision to put school on hold. I'm here now though, acquiring experiences that were once only a dream.