He Called It ... Inca Flat
In the briefing from our guide on what we could expect during the first day of travel, we heard what we thought were comforting words. "Day one is what we call Inca Flat". We were led to believe that our whopping one day of being at altitude would be supplemented by another as we acclimatized to the thin air.

This was not entirely correct.

In 2012, we ventured to South America in search of adventure. A large part of this trip was to hike the length of the Inca Trail, winding up at the fabled ruins of Machu Picchu. Camping each night in "comfort". Which meant that the porters ran ahead and set up our tents, so we could drop our weary bodies into them without having to use another ounce of our depleted energy.

It was exhausting, disgusting at times, and one of the most wonderous things I've ever done.
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Welcome to the Jungle
When you take the time to fly to another continent, you make the most of your stay. Since we were in Peru anyway (to hike the infamous Inca Trail), we decided to spend a week at slightly less elevation. In the Amazon Basin. Eco-lodging it. As in, this ain't the Ritz.
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A Quick Lesson
We interrupt this blog to bring you a message. In all of my travels, there is something universal I've found. Governments may suck, but people generally don't. All around the world, humans are humans. They fall in love, raise families, and dream. Sure, they may have a different language, food, or housing. Their customs and degree of wealth may be outside of your own. But they're nonetheless just people, like you and I. So don't fear "the different". Don't try to overlay your lifestyle as you travel. Immerse yourself in change. Learn, and teach. Give freely of your time, and even money, to make the world a better place. Remember, those dotted lines you see on maps are not real. The planet, she does not come with borders. Be a world citizen.
Additional Slices of Life
Northern California & Oregon
In the autumn of 2013, we took two weeks for a road trip up the Northern California coast into Oregon.

Ocean, huge trees, strange hotels ... we took it all in. Very relaxing trip, courtesy of a rented Mustang Convertible!
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Bangkok, Oriental City
I was in my middle 20s when I took my first international trip. Five weeks in Bangkok, thanks to my employer, the US State Department.

Interesting place for a young, recently wedded man to go.
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Moto2013 - Taming the Dragon
One bike and one week. Where to go? How about to the mecca of motorcycling? The famed Dragon! And other assorted great roads in western North Carolina and Tennessee.

These are the voyages of the Motorcycle Connie, going where many men have gone before.
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Athens & Santorini
Warning: Two weeks is not enough! But two weeks was all we had.

Ths is how to honeymoon where civilization started.
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Moto2012 - The Great North
Too many states in not enough days. In the summer of 2012, I mounted my trusty BMW GS and headed north. From camping in Brooklyn, to exploring the coasts of Maine, to getting soaked in Niagara Falls, this was a trip of learning and joy.
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Yea, I took a cruise. But it's not as lame as you might think. Where else can you take the Brady Bunch and have something for everyone? Navigator of the Seas! All though much more tropic climes than where we started.
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Sum Total
A quick wrap up. When your OCD kicks in and you need to document your travels in both graphical and list form. LOL!
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About The Higworld Chronicles
So, what's this all about, you ask. Quite simple, actually. I'm addicted to adventures, both large and small. I take pictures, shoot videos, and write lots of nonsense about what I think, see, and smell. And I like to share.

Remember as a kid going to your Uncle Warton's house when he got back from Niagara Falls? And how you had to endure two hours of slides while the adults got progressively drunker? Same thing here, only without the booze. And the fact that I can invade your home instead of the other way around.

My name is Rick Higgins, and I currently live on the eastern side of the United States. A Virginian by birth, my love of 'Anywhere Else' was fostered by a summer school teacher. The deadbeats of his class had already failed freshman English, and he figured two months of summer school weren't going to change things much. So every few days, he brought in his slide projector and showed us his various travels. And unlike Uncle Warton, this guy was interesting. To me at least. My fellow JDs mostly took the opportunity to sleep when the lights went down. I wish I could remember the name of this teacher, because I want to thank them. That small flame, all those decades ago, lit a bonfire inside me. And now it's all I can think about.

"Where's the next adventure".