Food for Thought (a backpacker's poem)

    'Why do you do it?' friends often ask, perplexed,
    Brows raised, minds sorely vexed.
    'The world out there is dangerous!
    Aren't you scared? Why do this?
    You need steady work, a house, two cars!
    You have only a motorbike, and sleep under stars!'

    Dear friend, if you must ask, you cannot know
    This curiosity that drives me so.
    To you it is hidden; in me rises unbidden!
    But one day the world I'll have ridden
    By iron steed, then perhaps this need
    Will have vanished, finally vanquished!
    That day will find me on deathbed,
    With no regrets for the life I led.

    Will you be able to say the same?
    Or will you despair a life worn plain?

    I will stake my Himalayan memories
    Against your estate of a thousand trees.
    Pit my Thai sunset
    Against your private jet.
    Weigh my horse rides at sunrise
    To your Italian suits and ties.
    I'll rejoice in friends before I go,
    Not the figures of my stock portfolio.

    And, amazingly, there are more like me;
    They reject slavery, and are truly free.
    They took the chance we all had,
    And honestly it makes me sad
    That you didn't.
    You thought you couldn't...
    What?
    Live without the luxuries
    Of all our modern amenities?
    You choose the bonds of mortgage, but claim to be free,
    Wasting a lifetime absorbed by TV.
    Why watch it? but live it!
    One life's all you get!
    Don't put off 'til morrow and continue to borrow
    The lives of strangers; 'tis the greatest of dangers
    To the soul
    Which grows old
    Before its time.

    Hercules, Columbus,
    Guevara, Odysseus,
    Champlain, Agamemnon,
    The list goes on...
    What have they in common?
    Regardless man or god,
    The soil of continents they trod,
    Not in search of gold but adventure!
    Not growing old 'cause they ventured
    Far from safety; but far be it from me
    To Judge...

    The pitiless pity us
    With souls black pitted.
    Pray! save it for those less spirited.
    For us... our horizons are unlimited.

by James Richmond, Canada

Rio de Janeiro - Rodoviária (bus station) 

Just passing through - on my way from Ilha Grande (for scuba diving) to Arraial do Cabo (for more scuba diving).  Most of my load is comprised of scuba equipment and camera gear, with only very little clothing.

Though I have other, more "dramatic", backpacking photos from other trips, this one is more indicative of this trip in Brasil.  Lugging all that scuba equipment was a challenge, but worth it.

(I, too, am currently accustomed to my lifestyle of house and amenities.  But some day I will take my travels to the next level, like in the poem. 
Sell everything, and just go...)