17, and Two Things

mid-February, 2024, Aston PA

For more years than I can count (more than 17!), the number 17 has been my favorite numeral, my go-to answer for any question with an answer that I could quantify (and some that I can't). Such as:

"Are we almost there yet?" Yes, only 17 more miles.

"How long do they expect me to wait on hold before customer service answers and rescues me from Muzak Hell?" Seventeen minutes.

"How many more commercials before the movie finally starts?" Seventeen.

"What should we do for dinner tonight?" XVII!

Now, as I prepare for my mano-a-mano match with birthday #17 next week, I'm feeling nostalgic. Amazing how much we've lived through, how much our world has changed since my last birthday years ago. The country succumbed to and recovered from a Covid pandemic. We survived a social lockdown, and Sue and I somehow moved two hours north in the bleakest days of restrictions. A year after cajoling me to transfer to Pennsylvania, Boeing retired me, introducing me to a life-after-employment world. I said goodbye to my father, an uncle and an aunt. We fostered at least seventeen kittens. And of course, I chased adventures in all 63 US National Parks.

Will my next quartet of years be as life-altering?

....

I've been through legislation creating a dozen national parks, and there's always the same pattern. When you first propose a park, and you visit the area and present the case to the local people, they threaten to hang you. You go back in five years and they think it's the greatest thing that ever happened. – Congressman Mo Udall in "Too Funny to Be President," 1988

The National Park Service continues to grow, and thankfully my network keeps me informed. Multiple people sent me links to the newest unit in the system - Amache NHS, which protects one of the ten Japanese internment camps (also call detention camps) during WWII. Sites in California (Manazar and Tule Lake) and Idaho (Minidoka) have already been established and protected by the NPS. The newest park is not yet developed - there is no Visitor Center on site, and since it's in Colorado near the Kansas state line, it's very remote.

On one of my last park jaunts, I discovered the delightful Apostle Islands NL -

a park I quickly realized required a longer visit than I could afford at that time. According to a link someone sent me, they have an operating lighthouse which needs a volunteer to stay there over the summer. Unfortunately, by the time I heard about it, they had so many people respond that they'd closed the application window.

Perhaps you've heard the guideline that a healthy lifestyle should include spending 150 minutes - 2.5 hours - per week of exercise, a challenging goal to reach given the demands on our time. But good news! a new study posits that spending only 25 minutes (just 1/6 of the healthy guideline) is enough to cause your brain to grow. Studies showed that that growth occurred in brain regions associated with thinking and memory - and moderate exercisers seemed to have bigger brains than vigorous exercisers.

Hmmm... I get more than 25 minutes of exercise nearly every day, and sometimes I wonder if I can even find my way home... What am I doing wrong?

As I looked back on the dozen or so times I camped while on my 60 Ways tour, I came across the story of Thomas Hiram Holding, the acknowledged inventor of camping. (I guess someone had to invent it!) Born in England in 1844, he crossed the U.S. in a wagon train while a small boy and quickly grew fond of sleeping in nature. In 1897, he designed a compact tent he could carry on his bicycle, and spent three days wheeling through Ireland - followed by writing a book about the venture. In 1908 he published The Camper's Handbook, establishing him as the pre-eminent authority on all things camping.

....

Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated. — Confucius

With the 60 Ways project complete - no travel to plan, no deadlines to spur me - I've struggled to find a path forward. My list of things to-do, like research e-book publishing, investigate podcasting, or write park articles, sits as a mocking reminder that time is moving on without me.

Call it a chronic case of motivation constipation.

As I bide my time, my mind returns to philosophic ramblings that ran through my head in the latter stages of my tours. It occurred to me that a pillar of happiness in our lives has to be a sense of control. Not control of others, not control of a situation, but control over your own life - that you can freely make decisions that matter to you.

This doesn't require monetary wealth. Indeed, people can lose control to an unchecked scramble for more - more - more. And of course, at times you must relinquish control to survive in the modern world, to do things you resent. (Can you tell I've been working on my taxes?) But how great it feels to define, in broad-brush terms at least, how you will live your life, how you will set your goals.

I'd rank that as the most rewarding part of the 60 Ways project - to set a goal, to work toward a life dream of seeing all the parks. To take chances to challenge myself. To adapt to conditions, to ignore doors that close in front of me and slip through a window instead.

By itself, though, control is not enough. We need a second pillar to direct our energies. It took more time and musings to identify the second half: Purpose. I enjoy knowing I can go (within reason) where I want, do what I wish. A placid paddle in my kayak relaxes me. Biking a new trail introduces me to an unknown locale. Attempting a glacier walk shows me an undiscovered world. But without a Reason to put myself out there, it gets old.

60 Ways gave me purposes: To learn about the grand public lands the rulers have gifted us, and the wildlife within them. To (attempt to) record the incredible beauty of the parks, and share that in blogs. To promote these lands, and encourage people to protect them. And to inspire others to get out there, to chase their dreams, to consider what they can do with their lives.

I hope soon to overcome my lethargy and tackle with vigor my next chapter, whatever form that may take. This blog may continue - or I may start a new blog or other venture. In any case, I thank the loyal readers that have followed me on this incredible journey - and I will keep you informed of my follow-on. Until then, I'll offer a sign-off that warms my heart:

May your mountains rise into and above the clouds. May your rivers flow without end, meandering through pastoral valleys tinkling with bells, past temples and castles and poets’ towers into a dark primeval forest where tigers belch and monkeys howl, through miasmal and mysterious swamps and down into a desert of red rock, blue mesas, domes and pinnacles and grottos of endless stone. - Edward Abbey