If time is flying…

June  27th, 2013

Although time is the metronome of the Universe, perception interprets the beat. From my perspective, the sands of time dropped at a peculiar pace throughout the month of June. The days seemed short on hours; the hours built of too few minutes. Although June is not yet over, it goes without saying that I feel swindled out of a few whole days. Where did all my time go?

Reflecting on the month, I realized that each day was a fantastic story. Not that all stories were happy or even exciting ones. But, each day had its cast of characters, problems to solve, solutions to find, etc. I haven’t found the time to convert these experiences stories into a written format. What a shame, but oh well. That opportunity has come and gone, and now lives in a place called the past.

Supposedly the past exists, although I’ve never been there. In fact I’ve never met anyone who has, yet almost everyone I know is quite certain it exists. There is a general consensus that you’re not supposed to regret anything that happens there. However learning from the supposed past is a highly respected thing to do.

I’ve learned that writing about travel while travelling is more difficult than I expected. Also, I haven’t given up on the idea that I’m simply lazy and undisciplined; a procrastinator extraordinaire. It’s probably a bit of both, but one problem I can do something about, and one I can’t.

For much of June, I was ensnared in logistical time-sucks (where it went is anyone’s guess), and I was also engaged in more tiring forms of travel (think riding a motorcycle 10 hours a day while battling acute mountain sickness). However, now it is now, and all is well. I’ve safely completed my journey from New Delhi to Leh, and am feasting on alpine panoramas, and a tasty masala milk tea.

The trip here was incredible, and I traversed the most awe inspiring landscapes I’ve ever seen. Such experiences are famously hard to capture in words or pictures; that is unless you were born Ansell Adams or David Thoreau. Suffice it to say, it was pretty. However I will try, against all vanity, to convey my experience of a Tans Himalayan motorcycle journey to willing readers… as soon as I find that missing time.

Until then…

Afterward:

I’m pressing on with more adventuring to fairly remote regions where, hopefully, the motorcycle and my sanity will quit breaking down. I’m with my couchsurfing host from New Delhi, the cheerful and sage Dr Girish. He rode as my passenger for the most difficult 500Km from Manali to Leh, and he kept me laughing and smiling though the many breakdowns. We've got a week or so of mis(adventure) planned before he has to get back to work. Let’s go!