A long while back (last page), I posted this. Someone responded: "No need to be envious. It is just stuff that may be here tomorrow or it may not. Priorities first, stuff last." That's a nice bit of (idealistic) philosophy. But try this. Live in Maine for seven years in your 60's with nothing but a bicycle and your legs plus a backpack to grocery shop (and shop for everything), even in winter, with multiple feet of snow for months and bitter cold, and get back to me on that.
It wasn't bravery on my part to move here. More like stupidity. I came here originally for a relationship with a woman with whom I'd cultivated a relationship for a year on the other coast (where she grew up, where her family lived, where she spent months of the year), but when I got here (by plane and bus carrying a tiny fraction of my belongings with the intention of retrieving others soon), she turned out to be a completely different person than I thought -- (I learned with the help of some of her friends here that she also hoodwinked). Love makes you blind sometimes. She was also going to be part of my professional success here, so I expected things to turn for the better financially fairly quickly so I could buy a ride better than a bike -- but it went the other way, into the pit. I'm still climbing out of that pit nearly 7 years later (made deeper by five other major body slams by five different groups that my colleagues and I also trusted; if I've learned anything in seven years, it's how NOT to trust). So I guess if there's bravery involved, it's that I stuck with it rather than going back to Oregon. Why? Because I love the landscapes, ecosystems and culture here FAR more than western Oregon's, the most beautiful place I've ever lived (and I've lived all over the country). And I was seriously tired of west coast californicated culture, so ... here I am still pedaling, and on my way to Scotland in the next couple of years. {Edited: decided to omit one detail about that ill-fated relationship.}
