tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17060061604027725742024-03-05T11:17:55.023-05:00The Knapsack ChroniclesSeeking fulfillment, meaning, purpose, and relevance<br> through incessant adventure and introspective exploration.Jesse Scanlonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01060257556162591820noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1706006160402772574.post-31660197202852512042011-02-02T21:24:00.001-05:002011-02-03T19:32:49.719-05:00Overcoming CowardiceJune 27th, 2010<br />
Gage, New Mexico<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGeN-s_lDgreFNech4oEQYV_JhDWwMT2mgn-JoQLjUZw8Gw7Nqc0W1JpjEvyygXCezAmBWSnIaMCMbO9OSmmv0thYhZXkPSzsYbQQJvUl70Im4NyR5jFL2qt74yOHozJ61u0vMDtqZymw/s1600/gagehill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGeN-s_lDgreFNech4oEQYV_JhDWwMT2mgn-JoQLjUZw8Gw7Nqc0W1JpjEvyygXCezAmBWSnIaMCMbO9OSmmv0thYhZXkPSzsYbQQJvUl70Im4NyR5jFL2qt74yOHozJ61u0vMDtqZymw/s320/gagehill.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I stood in the center of the man-made hollow, known as Gage Mine, about 30 feet below ground level on one side, with a rock face that rose in a gradual incline to the top of the hill, almost 100ft up. I enjoyed the serene solitude for a moment, thankful for another opportunity to venture off of the road, and hoping for an adventure that would rival the Van Horn exploration. <br />
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A beautiful white-faced barn owl (see site title photo) caught my attention as it left it's perch on the mountain-side rock face, gracefully circling me before vanishing over the hilltop. I held my gaze on this rising wall of stone, and from my angle, I determined it to be an easy climb. <br />
As it turned out though, the easily-scaled gradual incline ended at 50ft, leaving me with about 40ft of nearly vertical rock to ascend. I squinted above in search for another route up, but decided it wasn't worth the risk, and began to lower myself down. I searched for a good foothold below, but I had no such luck. <br />
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Becoming instantly aware of the situation, a searing wave of panic swept over me as I realized that I had lost control, and I automatically assumed that I would die that afternoon. In my fear, I plead to my God for mercy, like an innocent felon; begging for retrial. I felt I deserved to live, but ironically, I had no justification. I lived 21 years on the earth, and in my foolishness, waited until 2010 to finally appreciate the privilege of life. <br />
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It had been 21 years of stagnant self-indulgence, spent on eating, drinking, sleeping, and jacking off. And not only had I led a selfish life thus far, but a completely fruitless one at that.<br />
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While considering this, my right leg began to shake. They call it "Elvis leg", caused by a rush of adrenaline, anxiety; a culmination of helplessness. <br />
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Fear shook my leg. Irrational fear caused my foot to tremble on its perch. The fear in my trembling foot even orchestrated a round of pebbles in their cacophonous fall to the ground below. But as gravity, beyond my control, brought them down, I finally saw my impulse of fear as the variable that I could alter. <br />
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In those first moments of peril, I succumbed to self pity, guilt, and even thoughts on my potential eulogy. I hadn’t even considered climbing to the top<br />
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So I chose to climb. (First though, I leaned against my ledge, and putting documentation before survival, I took a couple pictures).<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdfLG8Dooz1WTdEJBhzSqrF3ZJ3D1fRRgFtvWJeE7me1yp3E-HEedhLH520TOs6OHscQDe8yzLmxlcUS062ODjFvRhyphenhyphenLYwGzxWWBBpd0e4xQc2588l0Mcy-bk_XcXcVVs2Notzbw-Og58/s1600/gagehillabove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdfLG8Dooz1WTdEJBhzSqrF3ZJ3D1fRRgFtvWJeE7me1yp3E-HEedhLH520TOs6OHscQDe8yzLmxlcUS062ODjFvRhyphenhyphenLYwGzxWWBBpd0e4xQc2588l0Mcy-bk_XcXcVVs2Notzbw-Og58/s320/gagehillabove.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-u35M-uJpGs0SO629X99eAnL01mPXxd1qu96iMw5uu9ZzQbyX0utRz9FBv7PJixvuuFza_kZ1Lu_fwP69D92lyMmtodUeNWlJ-a9Z0SNng_p2VLvtpsR3Fd3sM41OUJXnxLy7CuYRVvA/s1600/gagehillbelow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-u35M-uJpGs0SO629X99eAnL01mPXxd1qu96iMw5uu9ZzQbyX0utRz9FBv7PJixvuuFza_kZ1Lu_fwP69D92lyMmtodUeNWlJ-a9Z0SNng_p2VLvtpsR3Fd3sM41OUJXnxLy7CuYRVvA/s320/gagehillbelow.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I shook, sweat, and prayed; I didn't look down, or up. I figured it might be a futile attempt, leading to an inevitable fall to death anyway—“but wait” I thought, as I reached my hand up to the next ledge, grasping blades of grass. How could there be vegetation up on a rock side? I timidly pulled myself up another foot or two to witness the flat top of the hill. With a wide grin, I swung my leg over and rolled onto the sweet safety of cherished earth, and also onto a small cactus...and after a short bout with some angry bees, I stood on top of the conquered "mountain", laughing at my previous cowardice, cheering as loud as I could in pure joy, and basking in the glory of my little triumph.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqmEROOvLYlZOgqtCdxpksokiGud1CRoUKN5fm8JGdYij-MDnOzCLmZuJWDYEuxPzIYKOPGOqYgiKUiZh6gf-_AgeipvbQB7GGGSOOrPdpfqdhqphjwntP1PTTKOXYvydEq9pVksU8zR4/s1600/gage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="73" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqmEROOvLYlZOgqtCdxpksokiGud1CRoUKN5fm8JGdYij-MDnOzCLmZuJWDYEuxPzIYKOPGOqYgiKUiZh6gf-_AgeipvbQB7GGGSOOrPdpfqdhqphjwntP1PTTKOXYvydEq9pVksU8zR4/s400/gage.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I saw my fear of failure as greater than my fear of death that day. <br />
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My self-defeating fear of failure would've had me clinging to the side of a cliff, waiting patiently to meet death, rather than seeking survival. <br />
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I didn’t lack a will to live, I just lacked will. <br />
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And I see it throughout my entire generation. Like how we lack the will to explore this expansive, beautiful earth with our own senses, so we sit in the comfort of our sofas and watch nature programs in 'HD' to catch the highlights, sizing the wonders of the Earth down to the dimensions of a blu-ray disk. How we sit for hours watching juiced-up meatheads and spray-tanned drama queens bicker and fight like toddlers about the most miniscule issues, rather than spending time socializing or even having the audacity to work up petty arguments of our own. <br />
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In this abyssal pit of social awkwardness and abundance of children in their 20’s, we have become a generation without a name. Most of us lack motivation to experience anything extraordinary, and we receive no encouragement in identifying ourselves passionately with something unifying, or identifying with anything for that matter. <br />
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This is a generation with no courage to create, and barely enough will to exist. <br />
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I would like for that to change, because it can, and it changed for me on that little mountain in New Mexico.Jesse Scanlonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01060257556162591820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1706006160402772574.post-53703703950059299412011-01-08T18:11:00.004-05:002011-01-08T21:20:09.222-05:00Short video teaser from the tripI threw this together in an hour from some of my hd footage from the trip, just because I hadn't touched the videos at all. Enjoy!<br />
<center><object width="450" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BYdGc7qRD4M?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BYdGc7qRD4M?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="450" height="355"></embed></object></center>Jesse Scanlonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01060257556162591820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1706006160402772574.post-82045462890697875342011-01-08T13:33:00.003-05:002011-01-08T13:40:50.240-05:00Unedited excerpt from the Photo Journal<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSBw7DjpNIeCwWEycU1Lz80Y8To0Md9P9_AEFy0eYbUHxYogqtuDJxkWtI1buW2g2sKSq9LEFJrrQrtlUu4kiWgHiwxYv7rCKJoXU5AWTp7PKmtOvHMyQAHv0Lwoa_YUb0UDI_nHhY9K0/s1600/37390_10150215139700274_892365273_13313893_5639542_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 281px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSBw7DjpNIeCwWEycU1Lz80Y8To0Md9P9_AEFy0eYbUHxYogqtuDJxkWtI1buW2g2sKSq9LEFJrrQrtlUu4kiWgHiwxYv7rCKJoXU5AWTp7PKmtOvHMyQAHv0Lwoa_YUb0UDI_nHhY9K0/s320/37390_10150215139700274_892365273_13313893_5639542_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559886455892126706" /></a><br /><br />Taken from the rough draft of the journal log itself, this excerpt will be used as an illustration to support a specific theme, as the book will be formated topically, as opposed to chronologically.<br /><br />Feedback is more than welcome, especially criticisms and additional insights!<br /> <br />7/27/10<br /> <br />...My phone service was then shut off an hour later. This was a crushing blow, and I became suddenly aware again of how alone I was. I tried hitchhiking for two days after that, had no luck, and slept in a park and behind dumpsters. With a sense of mounting anxiety, I felt as if I was stranded, so I stood on the side of an intercity section of I-10 holding a sign, desperately begging for a ride East. I was moments away from an emotional meltdown, when a gorgeous young lady pulled up, told me she couldn’t drive me far, but asked if she could help at all. I was apprehensive, but decided to go for it. We put the bike in her tiny car and went to her apartment, where she fed me and let me shower.<br /> <br />She then told me that she had recently developed serious cancer, lost her job because of it, and<br />felt compelled to do any good deed possible. She also has a three year old son who is developmentally disabled, an ex-husband who left her, and a boyfriend who beat her.<br /> <br />If there was ever a heart that had never known the state of brokenness, I'm sure it would crumble at her story.<br /> <br />Here was an upbeat, outgoing, funny, and beautiful 27 year old woman, who was enduring pure pain, and somehow had the audacity to be positive and happy about life, for the sake of living life itself. She showed me that no matter how lost or hopeless life may seem, we always have the choice to be strong and the ability to be content.<br /> <br />After meeting her, it took every bone in my body not to embrace her, look deeply into her eyes, tell<br />her that she is amazing, beautiful, and loved, and kiss her passionately. I fell in love with her; six years<br />my senior, just as broke, and holding more baggage than I could ever possibly lift. I wanted to rescue that<br />damsel, take all of her distresses away in one fell swoop, and ride off into the sunset, but as night came around,<br />so did I.<br /> <br />I quickly snapped back into reality and left to sleep behind a dumpster in a medical plaza. The next day, her and I met up again and ran some errands. She went to obtain welfare assistance, and while there, I inquired about a discounted bus ticket home, and set plans in motion to leave the next day. We then picked her son up from his father's house and took him to a water playground where we had a blast together. As night began to fall, I grew fearful of yet another painful goodbye, as I had grown attached to her in only two days.<br /> <br />I contained my emotions though, forced myself to detach, and left her without hesitation; she became nothing but a dream to me, a cherished dream...Jesse Scanlonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01060257556162591820noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1706006160402772574.post-34829838278543978452010-08-22T16:52:00.012-04:002011-01-08T13:32:06.346-05:00Home<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i779.photobucket.com/albums/yy78/wolfpack954/AIC/37422_10150220922115274_892365273_13472005_6859829_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 361px; height: 220px;" src="http://i779.photobucket.com/albums/yy78/wolfpack954/AIC/37422_10150220922115274_892365273_13472005_6859829_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />This Summer I rode my bicycle across the country, and I returned via hitch-hiking and a greyhound bus. It took me 2 months to ride about 2,700 miles to the Pacific Coast (Tijuana, Mexico), and another month to get home. I did it alone, and without any reliable source of funds. I survived off of support from random people I met mostly, but I also received much needed help from my friends at home. There were still plenty of times that I had to dive dumpsters or go to homeless feedings, no complaints, it was free and well appreciated.<br /><br />The trip is over, but I feel that this journey and adventurous lifestyle has only just begun.<br /><br />This blog will remain an outlet in documenting my search for adventure, purpose, and meaning, and will also be the home page for a Photo Journal that I am self publishing, based on the experiences from this trip.Jesse Scanlonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01060257556162591820noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1706006160402772574.post-54802671802882818432010-05-28T11:51:00.003-04:002010-05-28T12:17:41.271-04:00The stars at night, are big and bright...<a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs578.snc3/31510_10150188298355274_892365273_12529863_1165146_n.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 360px; height: 270px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs578.snc3/31510_10150188298355274_892365273_12529863_1165146_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Finally reached Texas. I'm staying at the Perozo's, whom i haven't seen in four years, in Houston. They've been amazing to me, as have countless loving and friendly people along the way in this adventure. Unfortunately, I don't have the time or computer to update this as often as I wanted to, and I actually have to jet right now!<br /><br />adios!<br /><br />oh, ...DEEP IN THE HEART OF TEXAS<br /><br />P.S.-Hitting 1000 miles tomorrow on my way to Austin!Jesse Scanlonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01060257556162591820noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1706006160402772574.post-69219239889871258922010-05-24T17:32:00.004-04:002010-05-24T18:26:14.675-04:00First update on the road!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs340.ash1/29160_10150184103430274_892365273_12426191_2686807_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 360px; height: 270px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs340.ash1/29160_10150184103430274_892365273_12426191_2686807_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Alright, first off, I want to apologize for not updating this at all since I left, I'll explain why I haven't, and from now on, I should be updating as often as possible.<br /><br />Less than a week before my set departure date, I had the extreme misfortune of being robbed of everything. The story is long and irrelevant, but to sum it up, my laptop (with all of my plans and my only way to update this blog), cell phone, camera, wallet, and $250 cash was stolen from me. This left me in an extremely desperate and depressed state for about a week after, but I refused to allow that to hinder this adventure.<br /><br />I ended up departing thursday morning, 5/13/10, from Jacksonville Beach. My good friend Jacelyne drove me from Nick, Jordan, and Won Jun's house in Tamarac (where I was staying for a few days), to Miami to meet up with my Craigslist ride to Jax. With $40 for gas to Jax, I was starting the trip with absolutely no money, that is until Jacelyne handed me $200 that her Mom so graciously gave me for the trip.<br /><br />I hadn't even left South Florida, yet the main theme of this experience was already revealing itself. I have a thousand reasons to justify why I'm doing this and why it's important, such as searching for means of self-sufficiency and learning more about myself, but I did not consider the one thing that is most beautiful and sometimes most rare in this world; Love.<br /><br />This trip, this experience, this journey, this adventure, it is all about love, and how it reveals itself.<br /><br />As someone who likes to call himself a friend of God, or a lover of Christ, I took a hypocritical move in blocking out the possibility of God's involvement in this trip. I wanted it to be about no one but me and how I despise the shortcomings of myself and this world. I wanted to reveal how cashed, desolate, empty, and devoid of warmth this country is, and although that may be the reality in many situations, I have found that there is hope, love, truth, and compassion, glimmering like a distant star in every situation.<br /><br />So as a disclaimer, I will warn you that this has now become an observation into how God loves, how people love, and how simple it can be to love one another.<br />-I will not preach to you about how you need my God<br />-I will not subject you to some indoctrinating approach to my spirituality.<br />-I will simply exploit this adventure through written observation and pictures, and let you form your own opinions.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">If you take anything from my experience, let it at least be the understanding, awareness, and properties of unconditional love.</span> God or no God, your life will become a light when you love.<br /><br />Alright, so here we go.Jesse Scanlonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01060257556162591820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1706006160402772574.post-91305479608098658182010-05-03T19:57:00.002-04:002011-01-08T21:21:08.356-05:00America is Cashed Megadventour 2010 Trailer<center><object style="background-image:url(http://i2.ytimg.com/vi/eqDhUvwBMpU/hqdefault.jpg)" width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eqDhUvwBMpU&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eqDhUvwBMpU&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="480" height="295" allowScriptAccess="never" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></center><br />
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Thanks Alex Destefino, Jose Hernandez, Ryan Alexander, and Jesse Inman for helping me create this little vid!Jesse Scanlonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01060257556162591820noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1706006160402772574.post-57402163179771255122010-04-27T15:46:00.004-04:002010-04-27T20:21:14.140-04:00Cashing America out in a week!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjepeVQ5F-EE_QpZte3xcSZlC8Z8FPqIs_XLY0c3u9A__Md-HwPl9xheG1TSw1d-Op27wMbwweo3bGH0cR7v1SHMtviccW9M4Fl8vQvsclb81lf4WeeUvfL7joohx3ZaYQ2rMIN493MckU/s1600/cardaicsmall.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 114px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjepeVQ5F-EE_QpZte3xcSZlC8Z8FPqIs_XLY0c3u9A__Md-HwPl9xheG1TSw1d-Op27wMbwweo3bGH0cR7v1SHMtviccW9M4Fl8vQvsclb81lf4WeeUvfL7joohx3ZaYQ2rMIN493MckU/s200/cardaicsmall.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464914324720032450" /></a><br />Crunch time has officially begun.<br /><br />As my departure date approaches rapidly, I'm feeling more and more anxious, nervous, and apprehensive, yet I'm constantly reminding myself of the joy and peace that I found in the South Carolina ride.<br /><br />In terms of preparation, I feel like I'm jumping off of a cliff with a duct-taped parachute, although my heart and mind are completely set on leaping regardless.<br /><br />My cats, loves of my life, are going to a new home today, temporarily at least, I worked my last day at the job I've held for three years with the county, and I'm packing up everything I own, to be stored at a friend's house.<br /><br />I've made necessary sacrifices and compromises in my life for this adventure, and I'm not holding any regrets in the matter, but each step towards this figurative ledge has me searching for affirmation in my purpose.<br /><br />I've spoken to hundreds of people about the tour, and I've done my best to "promote" it, but instead of welcoming encouragement, I now feel like I put myself in a position of exploitation. I still can't believe I made business cards haha.<br /><br />In terms of sponsorships, I haven't piqued any bike shop or business owner's interest, so I'm not expecting anymore than $200 and a sketchy bike for the trip, but that's fine, a huge point of this is self-sufficiency.<br /><br />I've found that I thrive on the challenge of survival and the struggle of meager resources.<br /><br />T-shirt presales have been awesome, I've had complete strangers order a shirt, and although I'm not making any money from them, the support itself has been incredibly encouraging. They should be printed by the end of the week, just in time for the Miami Critical Mass, and the Broward/Fort Lauderdale Critical Mass that I set up. The Sun-Sentinel is doing a story on the Mass, thanks to one of their bike-friendly writers, and I really look forward to the exposure (hopefully positive) that the South Florida bike community will receive from it. I'm pushing for a more positive outlook on Critical Mass, and one that doesn't involve tons of infuriated drivers and punk ass cyclists. I honestly want Critical Mass to be a profound opportunity to encourage cyclists to ride, ride more, enjoy riding, and involve others in riding.<br /><br />Back to the tour; there are much more preparations to be made through this week, and although I'm about burnt out on entire thing, I cannot wait to see America for what it truly is. <br /><br />I was thinking today, searching for some understanding and asking myself for more reasons as to why I'm doing this, and I think I nailed one:<br /><br />I've never been west of Alabama in my entire life, and despite seeing images and movies and being aware of America's expanse, my mind is so locked in to a tiny perspective, in an ignorant state of awareness. <br /><br />So here's the epiphany: I think that subconsciously, my brain is telling myself that this ride will materialize the Southern Tier. Haha, I think that by riding through personally uncharted territory, my mind is taking responsibility for the manifestation of Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Mexico, and even the Pacific Ocean. I know it sounds crazy, but maybe that's how the brain works (or at least mine). <br /><br />So I'll accept that, yes, I will substantiate this Country.Jesse Scanlonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01060257556162591820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1706006160402772574.post-63852326128336270532010-04-16T03:22:00.003-04:002010-04-16T04:10:54.271-04:00Second America is Cashed update:First off, with the previous post being more than a month ago, let me reassure everyone that I’ll be updating this almost daily once the trip begins, and it will be shorter. Regardless, A LOT has occurred since, so here’s the novel:<br /> <br /> Ouchies:<br /> <br /> A few days after the first blog post, the front wheel on my bike locked up while I was trying to catch up to a bus on my bike. I looked down momentarily, while stupidly holding my hoodie in my hand, saw that I was going 27mph according to my cyclometer, and then watched as one of the jacket sleeves went into the spokes. Needless to say, it would’ve been hilarious on tape, as it must have looked like I hit an invisible car. Both the bike and I flipped over and I miraculously did not land on my head. So, fast forward from then to now and we have three sets of x-rays, one radial head fracture at the elbow, and a couple bad-ass road rash scars. With my type of fracture, despite the fact that there is some displacement and gnarly damage, no surgery or cast is necessary. Therefore I’ve been left with the responsibility of avoiding scar tissue buildup through exercise, while at the same time being careful not to re-injure the fracture. My most recent x-ray shows that I’ve failed at either so far. The fracture is slightly worse, but my arm’s restriction of movement isn’t an issue at the moment, so this won’t affect my decision in continuing AiC at all. On a related note, I have wisely invested in a helmet.<br /><br /> FAQs:<br /><br /> I’ve been receiving a lot of questions, as far as technical inquiries in relation to my bike, what I’m bringing, how far I’m riding a day, etc… All of this information will be posted when I finish the AiC “Master Plan”, which includes just about everything in terms of planning and preparation. I’ll have that uploaded or linked ASAP, but to answer a couple FAQs right now:<br /><br />Q:How many miles a day?<br />A:On the days that I’m not resting or exploring a specific area, I plan on riding between 70-130 miles a day. My average should be about 90mi. a day.<br /><br />Q:What are you bringing?<br />A:I have two side bags (panniers) on the back of the bike, as well as a small duffel, a small handlebar bag, a backpack, and my tiny tent strapped to my frame. I’m bringing hardly any clothes at all, the tent, a lightweight sleeping bag, a couple hydration pouches, spares tires/tubes/spokes, my netbook, phone, a few boxes of clif bars (provided to me graciously by my friend Toyah from New Zealand) and a bunch of other small things.<br /><br />Anymore of these questions should be answered soon when I post the ‘Master Plan’.<br /> <br /> PR/Marketing :<br /><br /> As this adventure approaches quickly, I’m finding my pockets close to empty, as well as discovering a lot of difficulty in gaining an audience for this blog, so I’ve been making a couple specific attempts to market/publicize the ride. <br /><br /> One of these little projects has been a short video that I drew up some ideas for. So far it looks awesome, thanks to my friends Alex Destefano, Jose Hernandez, and Jesse Inman. It should help with effectively communicating the purpose of the trip, and why I see such an experience as a necessity in my personal life. Alex is putting some finishing touches on it this weekend, and it’ll be posted up here ASAP. <br /><br /> Outside of the “AiC Trailer”, I’ve put forth effort in expanding this adventure’s audience by contacting local newspapers, such as The Sun-Sentinel and The New Times, and pitching the idea of covering the ride in their publications. So far it seems pretty likely, which is neat, and who knows, maybe with more local exposure, businesses might be encouraged to sponsor AiC.<br /><br /> Charity:<br /><br /> In order to give this self-seeking trip at least an ounce of selflessness or humility, I’m utilizing whatever attention I receive as an opportunity to provide a platform for a local charity, founded by a good friend of mine, Ryan Alexander. The charity, Notfashionable.com, focuses on spreading an awareness of the massive amount of children that go starving every night, and the many who tragically die from hunger. I’ll be accepting donations through the blog that will go directly to this charity, and that money goes straight to the children in need. I recommend that everybody checks out the Notfashionable.com site as well, where you can buy Ryan’s shirts for the cause and learn a little bit more. To be honest, I had no intentions of making this a charity ride, and that is still not the focus, though the misfortune of these children will play a part in motivating me to ride on. I chose a charity because my mom has expressed concern in the fact that this trip has a lot of selfish motives. I agreed, and I had no doubt in continuing this “selfish” adventure, but there is no reason not to help out others through it. As far as my motives behind choosing this charity, it was not just led by my friendship with Ryan, but the fact that I trust him and I’ve watched him live exclusively for others for years. So with that being said, let the decision to assist in the cause be yours, and yours alone. The least I ask for is some conviction and awareness of the issue at hand.<br /><br /> MERCH:<br /><br /> I’m selling a limited amount of America is Cashed shirts with artwork done by Todd Traxler, which should be ready next week. Half of the proceeds of these shirts go to Notfashionable, and the other half will go to my overhead costs for the shirts, as well as food and supplies that I need for the trip.<br /><br /> As an incentive to encourage people to buy these shirts, anyone who preorders one within the next week, will have their name on the back of the shirts in a list of sponsors and people who made AiC possible. <br /><br /> If you want to preorder one, go ahead and click on the donate button over there, ----><br />then throw $10 my way, plus a couple bucks for shipping, and put your size and full name!<br /><br /> So far, support in terms of people preordering shirts, and donating to the trip/notfashionable.com, has been pretty mind-blowing to me. It’s not like everyone is jumping at the chance to throw me cash, but like every other one of these previous similar situations, I'm blown away; not by the help itself, but who it's coming from. <br /><br /> The list of shirt orders literally, and almost entirely, consists of people I haven't spoken to in years, friends I rarely see, or people who barely know me.<br /><br /> I haven’t even begun this adventure, and I’m already learning more about the depth of this curious and profound thing called the human heart.<br /><br /><br /> Goodbyes:<br /><br /> Because of this trip, I have to move out of the room that I rent, so everything has to go. The task is seemingly easy, finding a place for my belongings, but even though I may be able to store a few boxes in my friend’s garage, I cannot store my cats. This leaves me with no choice but to find another home for them. I’ve watched them grow from tiny troublemakers, to full grown nuisances, and I couldn’t be happier with the end result. They’ve been there for me when no human could; from the warmth they shared when I was homeless, sleeping in my car, to the affection that they’ve provided when I was isolated and alone. Outside of my realist views, I see these animals, and I see an infinite value in their unconditional love. It breaks my heart so deeply to watch them go, and it hurts even worse to have to take them to the humane society, despite the fact that I constantly implore my friends to take them and post on craigslist in hopes of having them adopted.<br /> <br /> You might be thinking, “well if you love them so much, then make sacrifices to keep them, don’t go on this irresponsible trip”. Yes, I look irresponsible now, I might even appear cruel, but I have realized that I have an incredible ability to love, as well as an annoying tendency to tolerate familiarity and seek safety in the comfort of these oblivious creatures. It’s ironic that I hear so much about how cats are the high-class, self-sufficient, independent pets, when in fact; I’m being forced to abandon them because they aren’t independent or self-sufficient enough.<br /><br /> I wish I could go out to some forest, and let them run off, confident that they’ll find food, know how to stay safe, and be able to return to me when I seek them out, but they won’t. I can’t have that confidence, because they’ve been raised in an environment that is completely dictated by me, their God. All they’ve learned throughout their entire lives is that they are safe with me, and that I will feed them every day. If I released them, I would have to trust that their animal instincts would kick in, allowing them to hunt for food, and recognize potential predators. Unfortunately, I cannot trust that they’ll be so lucky or intuitive, so I’m forced to place them in a situation where they’ll either be recycled as house pets, or put to sleep. I pity their misfortune, and I will miss them so, but what I want to communicate through this painful experience, is that I have realized that they are in a situation not too different from mine.<br /><br /> I am a pet too.<br /><br /> I have been placed in a life, subject to conditioning based on social influence, just as these cats were raised on my power and my truth alone. They reflect my personality just as much as I reflect the social ecosystem I was raised in.<br /><br /> By setting off on this little adventure, I’m making the choice that my cats can’t.<br /><br /> I’m choosing to run off into that unknown forest, rather than be a complacent animal, caged in this “not-so-humane” society.<br /><br /> I don’t want to be recycled as a human pet to the powers that be, and I definitely don’t want to risk being socially euthanized, should I fail to be cute or skilled enough to be adopted by a financially privileged owner/employer.<br /><br /> The best part about my decision is that it’s an easy one. It may not be the responsible choice, but there is no question in it being the right one. In knowing myself, and possessing some self-awareness, there is a certain, almost absolute truth in the decision.<br /><br /> What will keep me going as I embark on this little journey? <br /><br /> It won’t be my body's physical endurance, it won’t be the intense focus of my mind, committed to a petty goal, and it won’t be some burst of energy, produced by fear in an escape from reality.<br /><br /> No, what will get me from one end of the country to the other, will simply be, truth.<br /><br /> The certainty of it will fuel me, the righteousness within it will steal away fear, and the integrity found in truth will bring me peace.<br /><br /> What I’m trying to say, basically, is that there is truth in seeking truth, wisdom in finding wisdom, and knowledge in searching for knowledge. <br /><br /> All you have to do is start; putting the first foot forward is the hardest part, and after that, your legs find their pace. The heart is not surprisingly the same way. Make a decision with some heart in it, and that commitment will carry you as long as your heart stays true.<br /><br /> The truth, my friends, is that I gotta go, haha, that’s truthfully all there is to it.Jesse Scanlonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01060257556162591820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1706006160402772574.post-10453277559547801282010-03-10T01:28:00.003-05:002010-03-10T18:03:51.614-05:00Welcome to the AIC Megadventour blog!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ8dYOtifLyl2lgMVXxi-CNb-W8mnBCYJRPhkrN9sIa_CCZGjN_bDSkcGv5-xqQHpwwmME3oqVrA6d1JQ3LQkShIROpRB-K25B89yUUbRix7zpMzi9zmntrNSHZ784aiSHtWQwr2swRBU/s1600-h/megaadventour.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 115px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ8dYOtifLyl2lgMVXxi-CNb-W8mnBCYJRPhkrN9sIa_CCZGjN_bDSkcGv5-xqQHpwwmME3oqVrA6d1JQ3LQkShIROpRB-K25B89yUUbRix7zpMzi9zmntrNSHZ784aiSHtWQwr2swRBU/s400/megaadventour.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446966154891975234" border="0" /></a><br />This is the first of many posts that I'll be making on this blog throughout the next few months.<br /><br />Most of the material will be in reference to the bicycle ride that I intend on making in May, across America, from the Atlantic Beaches in Florida, to the Pacific Shores of Mexico and California. I have dubbed this ride: America is Cashed Megadventour 2010. The name closely resembles that of my last trip, "Florida is Cashed Adventour 2009", which was a 600 mile ride from where I live in South Florida, to the South Carolina border.<br /><br />This bike trip will be approximately 2,500 miles, and may take me up to 50 days to complete, although I plan on completing it in 40 or less.<br /><br />I am not an athlete, I am not a tourist, I am not a traveler, and I am not a blogger.<br /><br />I'm Jesse Adrian Scanlon; somehow my own person in this world.<br /><br />Yes, I ride my bike far, as a challenge; it sounds pretty simple, but the intended purpose is not merely to see if I can really do it, or to experience the joy of finishing. No, I set these goals in hopes of revealing my individuality and defining my identity as a person.<br /><br />I want to make an attempt on my lifestyle, in its' repetitious stagnancy, its' habitual apathy.<br /><br />I want to broaden my perspective on life, and though it sounds cliche, it is genuine.<br /><br />I want to experience the length of my country on a small budget, with a self-powered form of transportation (a bicycle).<br /><br /><br /><b>I want to appreciate every foot of land as I pedal through the bayous of Louisiana, the deserts of Texas, the mountains of Arizona, and the shorelines of Southern California.<br /><br />I want to see the faces of my fellow human beings, not the rooftops of their homes from 30,000 feet above.</b><br /><br />I'm not going to rattle your ears off with political discourse or burn your eyes out with hippie protest propaganda. I'm not here to be an avid opponent of materialism (I love this laptop), I'm not writing against (or for) corporate America.<br />I'm not a conservative Republican. I'm not a liberal Democrat.<br />I'm not here to assert my political neutrality as an "Independent".<br /><br />The title "America is Cashed" is a general description of how I will cash out/redeem/whatever America, when I cross it. The name has nothing to do with being fed up or finished with my country.<br /><br />My point is to present ideas and thoughts and experiences as Jesse Adrian Scanlon. I don't care if you think my thoughts or ideas are not my own, I speak them now with my own voice; I type them with my own fingers. I digress, back to the ride:<br /><br /><b>This will be difficult on thousands of levels. This will be dangerous in a million ways.<br /><br />I will ride countless miles, and they will produce a billion smiles.</b><br /><br />That is all for tonight.Jesse Scanlonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01060257556162591820noreply@blogger.com7