By Jeffrey Lazarow
ON THE OPEN ROAD — We thought we were free until we began living on the road…then we became relatively free.
Are you comfortable with the turmoil in the world? Of course not. Would you like to change it? Probably. Can you? No. Are you completely satisfied with your life…fulfilled? Can you improve it? Of course you can. Don’t worry about the world; rather, ‘fix’ yourself and the world will be an improved place.
We cannot and are unable to offer advice to anyone. But we mention what we have done over the last 7 years which has enhanced our lives beyond our wildest expectations. We chose to ignore the chaos surrounding us. Got out the rut, removed ourselves from the channel that traps us all from time-to-time. Took charge. Changed our routines, our environment and mostly, altered our attitudes. We seek to make each day or at least, each period an adventure. Find your passion. Grasp your passion and you’ll discover your purpose. With purpose you have a plan to attack life, to attack the day, to seize the moment. Carpe Diem.
“Who cares about your early history, and even more so, you aren’t famous, so why would anyone want to read about another two people of billions of world citizens?”
A fair question and comment—we would be the first to admit. However, we think that’s the whole point. Our journey is not about our formative years, but rather, focuses on two Jewish houseless, mid-sixty-year-olds hiking and climbing mountains in different parts of the world. More importantly, we believe it allows more people to relate to who we are and our adventure. Ultimately, it might be a way of motivating a person to follow his/her passion.
We have been without a permanent physical home for the period but have shared a metaphysical one throughout, creating opportunities to experience life on the road, in the wilds and of course, on mountains and volcanoes. We suppose what might make the adventure a little unusual is that we are middle-aged, have lived mostly conservative lives, (always a few quirks along the way though), but had developed a desire to seek freedom from routine, to explore our magnificent planet as well as face challenges, mostly physical, as part of our daily lives. One of the critical motivational factors was a realization, obvious but often ignored, that our time on Earth was diminishing…quickly. We decided by the end of our days we want to be able to limit the number of “should haves, could haves…”.
Who had the great idea?
*Like many people, we too have a fear of change. It’s unsettling, deals with the unknown, and removes a person from the warmth, comfort, and certainty of the womb. Of course, that’s the strength of change. With this idea in mind, a fondness for outdoor activities, and an ever increasing love of nature, we decided to pursue an idea that was developing in our minds, but totally untested.
“Let’s sell our house, store our movables, get a post office box, and take to the road.”
“What about the children?” Jenni inquired.
“We can’t really store them, can we?” I wondered. “Maybe we should sell them too. What do you think three lovely kids will fetch today considering we’re in a recession?” Circa 2010.
I received the rolling of the eyes understandably, but I was trying to keep things on the light side. I get a lot of those eye movements. I worry for Jenni as I’d hate to see her eyeballs pop out. We were in the throes of undertaking something as one child said, ‘wacky’…
A story of crows from the road:
**Jenni had purchased a GPS, much to her partner’s disdain. After all, we wished to face the great outdoors in the raw. While using the device on a long trail which did not seem to end, she explained, “The gadget can only measure distance as the ‘crow flies’. Depending on the switchbacks and the terrain, the distance could easily be double the reading.”
This was exactly what I needed to hear; every muscle in the body was aching and then some others too. Fortunately, I remembered the teachings of our sages and tried to remain calm before answering while we continued the never-ending hike. “You don’t think we should give the device to the crows then—they’ll make much better use of it,” I finally blurted. In fact, over the years on Hike-about, I have developed, perhaps irrationally, an intense dislike of crows. They forever take shortcuts, and the gadgets continuously rub it in by using them as a measure, a useless bit of information to a poor, tired hiker.
It was very quiet in our room that night.
We could end there, but it may not be a convincing reason to have issues with crows. We were in KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa, hiking around Giant’s Castle. When we arrived at the car park, a sign caught our eye. It read, “Cover your windscreen wipers as the crows have a rubber fetish.” Do we need to say anything more? It did give us pause for thought.
We’ve heard of fetishes, but this takes the rubber…cake.
Fortunately, on each visit to the park, we have managed to conceal our rubbers safely.
Could an animal rights extremist group try and rid cars of windscreen wipers’ blades?
With crows’ ingestion of rubber, will it affect those who eat crow or how the crow flies?
Are there implications for the condom industry? We don’t know.
Lost on a mountain:
***“Where are we?” we asked David. “We know this sounds silly, but where is the trailhead for the Missionary Ridge hike?” Fortunately, David was a resident of the Durango area in Colorado and explained a few things to us. Before that, however, we tried to re-learn a concept from our adventures: it is not to blame your spouse for her errors and, especially, not for your own.
“The trailhead is twenty miles away by road.” Until his arrival, we were lost after nearly 6 hours on a mountain trail.
Apparently, the loop we were supposed to be walking was, in fact, not a loop. David, like an angel sent from heaven, offered to deliver us to the trailhead. It’s moments like those when a person’s faith in humanity is rekindled or strengthened; one feels awfully humble.
We walked with David the few miles to his truck parked at the bottom of the mountain and piled onto the back while the dogs sat up front. He offered to have us switch with the animals, but we felt comfortable where we were and deserved to be in the dog box. Upon arriving at our destination, we had a dilemma. We wanted to pay for the ride, offer to fill the tank, or buy him a bottle of whiskey. At the same time, we realized that when a person was performing a kindness (mitzvah), one should not dilute the beauty of it. Nevertheless, we needed a way of providing a fraction of the compensation we felt he deserved. Clearly, he was and, we have no doubt, still is a person with a pure heart. He rejected out of hand any gift from us. We paid our inadequate respects, the car started on the first attempt, and we headed home, knowing that we had been touched by human goodness and kindness, if not some form of godliness. That was over six years ago—the memory will be just as clear forty years hence too.
On a rest day, we try out horses:
****On the mountains of Ouray, Colorado, we directed our horses along the paths and viewed the vistas. My horse was forty or fifty hands, Blythe, our talented guide, mentioned. I don’t understand the form of measurement at all. Whose hands was she using? Why don’t they talk in feet or even hooves? Blythe was a woman of many stories and informed us of the area, horses, bordellos, and other local color. Running among the horses were two dogs, one being an Australian sheepdog. We naively mentioned that it was wonderful to see the placid interaction between horse and dog. We thought that an intelligent observation for city people. She informed us that on occasion, the dog liked to corral the horses. Apparently, the dog was unable to differentiate between horses and sheep. We understood this as she did say the dog was Australian. Anyway, the dog sometimes nipped the mounts on their legs, she had added.
“Then what happens?” we asked, a little apprehensively.
“The horse,” she said, “has no ill feelings toward the rider, of course.” We were very relieved to hear this information.
“However,” she continued, “the horse will usually bolt and throw the rider some distance.” “How many hands?” I asked, thinking I had picked up the jargon rather smartly.
“Both hands and the rest of your body too.”
Even a city boy got the picture. One wonders why the guide would even venture to offer such a story to novice riders. We think the management needs to have a closer look at Blythe’s leadership qualities.
When our lives were going smoothly, we never considered something might have been wrong? When life treated us roughly, something was definitely wrong. What gives? Both positions can’t be right or should that be wrong? When we found we were not growing, the world began passing us by.
We believe a key to success is to find one’s passion and hence, purpose. Substitute your passion (poison) for hiking and take-off on a life adventure, whatever it may be.
We would characterize these latter years as an adventure which covers our lives outside the channel as we wander in wonder in different parts of the world. The journey presents constant challenges, growth opportunities, humorous situations, physical struggles, exposure to different cultures, magnificent beauty and above all, a sense of fulfilment, love and togetherness.
*
Jeffrey’s last corporate/ownership position was with Global Amici, a table-top houseware distributor based in San Diego. Jenni’s last position before retiring was in administration at the Beth-El pre-school in San Diego.