Huh. I totally forgot to put up a blog yesterday, but it kind of looks like Wikipedia forgot as well, because the last entry there is still describing Utah State Route 128 in all its magnificent glory. Anyway, today's topic is the Shackleton-Rowett Expedition, the (somewhat ill-fated) last Antarctic expedition of the Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration.
I have to admit that I'm fairly impressed by that title - the Heroic Age. It sounds very epic, almost high fantasy, very much "The Heroic Age of Man," wherein we bested the Beast of Blacksmoore, defeated the great dragon Glauringfang, felled the Fell Hordes of Eventower, and were general badasses overall. Of course, the beasts, dragons, and fell hordes involved in this particular Age were dangerous seas, abominable cold, starvation, disease, and Murphy's Law, but those are arguably more dangerous and harder to overcome than any smoke-belching dragon.
Explorers as a group tend to interest me. I don't think I was born with the gene that gives you a thrill every time you come across some unexplored tract of land or mysterious delve in the forest. I'm pretty mundane when it comes to that sort of thing - I can appreciate them, but, as with most people, the notion of hacking my way through a bug-infested swamp or sub-zero arctic wasteland purely for the sake of piercing that veil of the unknown...doesn't really appeal to me. My tastes for delving into the mysterious tend to be much more academic, I guess - scientific as opposed to geographical. It's all linked, of course - explorers turn out new things for scientists to puzzle over, and scientists then apply that knowledge to expand our horizons of understanding, coming up with ways for explorers to go further and further into that mysterious, misty horizon at the edges of human experience. My spirit of adventure tends to be limited to industrialized countries with running water and internet access, and I note this fact with a certain amount of disappointment in myself. I look at my friends who have been enterprising in their travels, gone to places like Peru or Malaysia, and while part of me thinks that would be a fantastic experience, a part of me also thinks I'd probably get whacked over the head with a big stick, raped, and shoved into a ditch somewhere (not necessarily in that order?) I guess that's true of everyone - the difference is whether you're willing to step outside your comfort zones and take a chance and dive into something new. Then again, I could probably make the same argument for taking a trip to a Pentecostal church in Bible Belt or going to an S&M party in the heart of Chelsea (how's THAT for a broad spectrum), but that would make me deliberately obtuse.
I think...maybe before I start going back to school next year, maybe I'll take the chance to do some traveling. Maybe even some unplanned traveling, like Adam did in Europe. Just buy a ticket to France, buy another ticket back from London maybe two months later, pack a few books and supplies and maps, and see where I end up. I've been making a slow trek from introversion toward extroversion the past couple of years, so talking to new people as I go might not be the horrifying, slimy, slug-like monstrosity that it currently looks like. (AUGH! SLUG BEAST! GIANT SLUG BEAST! WITH WINGS!) Assuming I don't end up in the Hostel of No Return, of course. Apparently, Eastern European people particularly like Asian people for that sort of thing. Man, I should never have watched that damn movie.
I'm making a mental note of this blog, and of the fact that I'm telling myself I might do such a thing. We'll see how I stand with my semi-resolutions come next summer. Maybe I'll talk Luis and Rob into a road trip first.
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