With less than a week remaining in the trip (incredible!), I thought it would be interesting to take a look at some of the things lost, damaged, and destroyed over the past six months.

Lost

• Washcloth, somewhere in Canada.  Found about a day after I bought a new one.  In other news, they still manufacture washcloths in Canada.
• Hockey cup (as in, one for protecting “the boys”), most likely at the motel in Oklahoma City where I dried out my gear.  There was a moment of panic at my next game in Fayetteville, Arkansas when I tore through my hockey bag trying to find it and realized it was gone.  Without going into too much detail, I was forced to switch from a double-cup system (which is common in hockey goaltending) to a single-cup solution.  There was still protection down there, just not as much as I would have liked.

Damaged

• Merino wool shirt, at Denali NP in Alaska.  While sliding down the rocks by the waterfall, my shirt got torn in several places.  I sewed the holes closed, but it just isn’t the same.
• Convertible pants, at Denali NP in Alaska.  Also a victim of the rocky ride that tore my shirt.  I sewed the holes in my pants closed, too, but vanity forced me to acquire a replacement pair, the excellent prAna Zion pants.
• Westcomb rain jacket, throughout my backpacking excursions.  This extremely expensive rain jacket was also extremely light in weight.  Unfortunately, it did not stand up well to abrasion, and now there’s a large mark on the back of the jacket where my pack was rubbing.
• Driver-side rear tire, along the Alaska Highway near Fort Nelson, BC. I hit a pothole and was forced to find a replacement tire in Whitehorse.  Then, a bit later…
• Passenger-side rear tire, in Ohio. This tire picked up a nail and developed a slow leak.  The nail was too close to the sidewall to patch, so I simply added more air every couple of days.  That worked for about 10,000 miles until I got to Denver for the second time, but then the slow leak changed to a fast leak, and I was forced to give Sam an entirely new set of shoes.
• Windshield washer fluid, due to actions in Greenville, SC.  I got Sam’s oil changed in Greenville, and the place “helpfully” topped off the windshield washer fluid.  Unfortunately, they seem to have used fluid with a low methanol content, which caused it to freeze once I hit cold weather in northern Texas.  It took me the better part of a day of dumping fluid and cutting what remained with high-concentration methanol to get everything unfrozen and spraying again.
• Sam. The trip has been hard on Sam, in the sense that he now has a number of scratches, chips, and abrasions that were not present at the start.  Most of those things are cosmetic, but I am a bit concerned about corrosion  along the bottom edge of the rear hatch where the cord for the lights on the cargo box runs.  I didn’t notice the paint damage until it was down to bare metal.

Destroyed

• Dangler, at the rink in Houston, TX.  That might sound dirty, but a dangler is actually a piece of polycarbonate tied to a goalie’s mask that exists to protect the goalie’s neck.  Polycarb is extremely strong, much more so than acrylic (aka Plexiglas), but it will still break if scratched and loaded in a certain way.  When I took a puck to the dangler in Houston, my dangler shattered.

A photo from the game showing my shattered dangler at my neck, before play stopped. (Photo: Karen)

• Goalie skates. Well, not technically destroyed, fortunately, but they will need to be replaced after the trip.  I’ve had them since 2004, so they’ve had a good run, but the steel is nearly gone from all of the sharpenings over the years.  Newer skates have replaceable steel blades, but my skates are old enough that the only option would be to replace the cowling/blade assemblies.  That would be nearly as expensive as buying new skates, so I’m just going to go with the all-new option.

I’ve also lugged around a few things that I never used.

Unused

• Cooler.  Okay, I used this a few times, and I even replaced it with a smaller one in Fairbanks, but since about Phoenix I haven’t used it to keep things cold.  Probably could have gotten by without a cooler at all.
• Light stand.  I used my tripod for the first time in North Carolina, but I have never used my light stand and associated gear.
• Maple extract.  Why in the world did I bring maple flavor on this trip?!
• Bear spray.  Even when Tyler and I actually encountered grizzly bears at close range in the Denali wilderness — the exact situation where one would want to have bear spray — I failed to remember I had it and left it holstered.
• A box of mashed potato flakes.  Yes, I ate instant mashed potatoes throughout the summer, but since I started experimenting with some of the ideas in The 4-Hour Body back in mid-November, I’ve been avoiding such things.  Hence, the unopened box that’s been riding around since then.  I should get rid of it.
• Recovery strap.  Haven’t gotten Sam stuck yet!  Haven’t found anybody else to get unstuck, either.

Overall, though, I’ve found uses for most of the things I’ve carried with me.  What’s more, most of those items have survived the trip intact.  Who knows what the final week will hold, but I’m hopeful that nothing else will be destroyed or damaged between now and next Sunday.

Do I get lonely on the trip?  I wish I could tell you that everything is always sunshine and flowers, but sometimes it is a lonely endeavor.

Hours will go by with me in the driver’s seat.  It is rare that I have passengers. I have not, for example, ever picked up a hitchhiker.

Sometimes I play music, sometimes I sit in silence.  My mind is always churning through thoughts.  Some have ivory towers; I have an ivory leather seat.

That’s not to say that I’ve been by myself on my journey. The support from friends, family, acquaintances, and well-wishers has been incredible.  I get a thrill out of seeing people reading this blog or looking at my photos. I love getting messages, tweets, emails, and comments along the way.  And meeting people in real life?  That’s always fun!

I try to feed my social animal by spending time where people congregate.  It’s always fun to get swept up in the camaraderie of a hockey game.  Coffee shops are great, too: something like 80% of this blog was written in Starbucks across the continent.

Still, the reality is that I’ve spent nearly six months solo in places far from home. Being around people is not the same as being around people you know.

View from my chair at a Starbucks in Dillon, CO on December 7. Sam and the mountains are in the window. Most of this blog was written in environments very similar to this. (Well, minus the mountains.)

This gets at the larger problem of loneliness in post-college life.    While in school, it’s difficult to appreciate just how easy it is to make friends there compared to what it will be like after earning that sheepskin.  College is like a Petri dish for friendships: lots of people, lots of time together, lots of shared experiences.  Many, myself included, have found it more difficult to meet people and make new friends after college.

It isn’t impossible, of course, just more difficult.  I have been fortunate to make many friends while working, playing hockey, and mixing in entrepreneurial circles, not to mention the usual friend creation via introductions from other friends.  Still, I can’t help but think back to the days of college where meeting people from all walks of life and all parts of the country was far easier.

One unexpected benefit of the trip has been in friend creation. I have greatly enjoyed meeting so many generous and interesting people on the trip, people that I now consider friends.  My hope is that at least some of those friendships will survive the conclusion of the trip.

It’s also been a great opportunity to rekindle friendships that had grown cold over the years.  I’ve been surprised by what my friends of old are doing these days.  Many have acquired hobbies or vocations that I never would have expected while in school.  There have been several times on the trip where I have made detours of hundreds of miles for no reason than to see old friends.

Yes, there has been loneliness on the trip, but that cost has come with the benefit of friendship.

Just 18 days left in the trip.  Can you believe it? I can’t. What a rush it’s been.

I’m looking for ideas about how to make my final state, Minnesota, extra special.  That means I’m asking you for suggestions and connections.  Yes, you.

Maybe an outdoor game? A practice with an interesting team? Something symbolic? Something extravagant?

I’m planning to be back in Minnesota on December 17, so any day between then and December 31 would be a possibility.

Ideas?  Connections?  Proposals?  Suggestions?  Either leave a comment below or shoot me an email at jeff.keacher@gmail.com .

Thanks in advance!

You might have noticed that I seem to be wearing the same clothes in every photo from the trip.

The hallmark of an experienced traveler is a lack of clothing.  No, not zero clothing; just a very limited selection.

Clothes are bulky, and schlepping bulky items on the road is no fun.  It’s worse when backpacking, either on the trail or in urban environments, but it’s a pain even when a car is available for the duration.

Happiness on a trip is inversely proportional to the quantity of clothes. Note that happiness is undefined when there are no clothes.

The keys to keeping down the quantity of clothing are maximizing the utility of each item and minimizing the maintenance associated with each item.  In other words, we want to be able to mix and match for all weather and social conditions and not do laundry very often.

Want to know the secret?

Wool.

I’m not talking about your grandmother’s wool. (Hi Grandma!) The only wool worth using against the skin is merino wool, a soft variety that isn’t the least bit scratchy.

Merino wool is great stuff.  It’s light in weight, packs small, looks good, insulates well, dries quickly when wet, and doesn’t get smelly.

It’s that simple.  Cotton and synthetics start to smell bad fairly quickly, but wool is remarkable in its ability to repel unpleasant odors.

I had been using merino wool hiking socks for years, but I didn’t consider wool for general clothing until I ran across a post extolling its virtues by the digital nomad Tynan.  I had no wool clothing at the time other than dress slacks, suits, and the aforementioned socks.  Now, for the trip, my shirts and underwear are wool, too.

On any given day, I’m likely wearing a selection from the following options:

Light shirt:

• Green Icebreaker 150-weight merino t-shirt with a graphic of New Zealand
• Black Smartwool microweight merino t-shirt
• Black “bodyfit” Icebreaker 200-weight merino t-shirt, though this one has been worn less often since it got ripped in Denali NP

Heavy shirt:

• Brown Icebreaker Coronet 320-weight merino 1/4-zip sweater
• Black North Face TKA100 polyester fleece 1/4-zip sweater. Not wool, but I’ve used this shirt on all of my adventures for the past seven years.

Pants:

• North Face Paramount Peak polyester convertible pants, generally in shorts mode. I have a gray pair and a khaki pair, but the khaki pair is a bit too long to use with my FiveFingers.
• Gray prAna Zion polyester pants. These are the best travel pants I’ve ever used, bar none. I can’t overstate how awesome they are. Durable, practical, and good-looking.  As seen on national Canadian TV (on me)!

Skivvies:

• Icebreaker 150-weight “bodyfit” boxer briefs. These are amazing.  I never thought I’d write that about underwear, but they really are.  Totally worth the high price.  I have two of them with me.

In essence, I have two outfits, one on my back and one in my pack.  Bliss.

I can generally go a couple weeks between loads of laundry without things smelling too bad (at least as far as I can tell).  The main exception to this rule is when I play hockey at a rink without showers and am forced to put my street clothes back on my smelly body.  Not even wool can defend against eau de goalie.

When I do run a load of laundry, I simply toss everything in the washer on “cold delicate.” Drying is simply a matter of setting the items out — don’t use a dryer unless you like replacing expensive shirts.  My synthetic clothes can tolerate a heated dryer, so I’ll usually wash and dry them with my hockey underthings.

There you have it.  I’m always wearing the same shirts because those are the only ones I have with me, and the key to getting away with that is merino wool.

My first thought upon seeing the rental skates at the outdoor downtown rink was that I should have brought my own.

Maybe the contraptions in my hands weren’t actually skates.  Sure, the boots were there; some laces, too. There were pieces of steel attached to the bottoms of the boots, but calling them “blades” would be laughable at best, for that would imply they had edges of some sort.

Hockey players are fanatical about their skates.  Skating is, after all, a defining characteristic of ice hockey, and without it, all you’d have would be something like hockey, but on a field, and since that’s dangerously close to soccer, even fewer people in America would watch it on T.V.  Without good skating, a player is useless, and good skating starts with good skates.  But good skates alone are insufficient; they must be sharp to perform well.

Sharp skates are so important that in certain impoverished parts of the world, they’ll even risk sharpening the blades freehand(!) just to get those edges.  Seriously, seeing video of a guy doing that made my jaw drop.

The blades on my rentals looked like they hadn’t seen a sharpener’s grindstone of any sort in the past decade.  Fortunately, I wasn’t trying to play hockey with them.

A cross-section of a sharp blade looks like the example on the left. Sharp edges, nice bite. The rental skates looked like the one on the right. Burrs = no bite.

Why then, you ask, would I be at a rink if not to play hockey, and why on earth would I be screwing around with rental skates?

I was renting because I was in downtown Atlanta, Georgia at the Olympic Park Ice Rink.  I thought it would be novel to go skating outside in the Deep South, and for some reason I thought that it would be more convenient to pay $2 to rent skates there rather than bring my own.  I blame those brilliant decisions on a low level of coffee intake due to the Thanksgiving holiday.

Bad: the rental skates at the rink.

Good: my goalie skates. (I knew this photo would come in handy someday!)

I paid far more than just the $2 for the rentals.  I paid with my dignity.  Not only were the skates very dull, they were figure skates, not hockey skates, and that meant a few minor differences (e.g., the rocker) and one very major difference: figure skates have toe picks.  I was reminded of that the hard way when I caught one of the picks and face-planted on the ice.  That was embarrassing.  It hurt, too — no pads.

The outdoor rink at Centennial Olympic Park in Atlanta

Once I looked past the skates, the rest of the experience was pleasant.  There were lots of Christmas lights, trees, and wreathes as decorations.  There were enough people to make it feel lively without so many as to make it feel crowded.  There were great views of the  Atlanta skyline and the bright red logo on the CNN building.

The ice was so-so, similar in feel to naturally frozen outdoor ice, but a pass with a Zamboni would have done wonders for the surface.  In a big surprise, the refrigeration system was very quiet, and it seemed to have no trouble keeping the sheet rock-solid in the 65-degree weather.

Refrigeration plant for the outdoor rink, because I like seeing how things work. The rink is in the structure on the left.

There’s a lesson here, folks: Outdoor ice can be fun, but bring your own skates.