Chapter 1: Something called
Freedom
Tim and Cindie Travis
Freedom is addictive. Too much of it, and there’s no turning
back. Cindie and I found that out for ourselves after two years on the road –
cycling from our home in Arizona to the southern region of South America.
When we first started our journey on March 30, 2002, we set
out on what we thought was going to be a seven-year cycling adventure. That’s
how much time we could afford, based on the amount of money we had saved up
after living frugally for nearly five years before we left. And once the money
ran out, we reckoned ... well, it was back to our home, back to our working
lives.
But then came this freedom thing. We got a taste. We wanted
more.
During our two years on the road, our views of the world
changed. We went from being Arizona residents who liked to travel to travelers
whose only home was on the back of our bikes. We proved to naysayers – who
thought we would miss the comforts of home, or get killed in a distant land –
that we could not only do it, but also have the time of our lives in the
process.
After our two years in Latin America ended, we returned to
relatives in Indiana for a short break to take stock in our finances and decide
our next move. Our bank accounts were getting low. Freedom beckoned, but reality
intruded. How could we continue our bike ride forever and never run out of
money?
And we thought we found a way.
In Argentina, I wrote a book. It was called The Road that
Has No End, and it explored our decision to ride around the world, and the
first year of cycling from Prescott, Arizona to Panama City, Panama in Central
America. Later, I wrote a second book, Down the Road in South America
that described our second year of cycling in South America. Although these books
are sequential, it is not necessary to read the first two to understand and
enjoy this one. Information about all our books can be found on our web site,
www.DownTheRoad.org.
I wrote these books despite being dyslexic. Dyslexia is
something I’ve had my entire life, and is the reason I chose a career in Special
Education – to help others with the same problem. Thanks to a patient wife and a
computer that checks spelling and reads text out loud, I became an author, which
was a possibility that only a few years earlier I never would have dared
imagine. It gave me confidence; made me realize I could do (nearly) whatever I
set my mind to.
Starting a business and self-publishing books was an
incredible learning experience. The first book took months of work. We had to
hire a professional editor, a cover artist and a commercial printer. We learned
how to edit photographs, and lay out the book with text, images and everything
else.
And then, in order to keep riding while selling the books, we
had to learn about the “fulfillment” industry. We found a company that stored
our books, took orders from our web site, mailed them out and kept various
retail stores stocked up. We also had to learn to use complicated accounting
software that would track sales and other income so we could pay all the
applicable taxes.
By the time we reached Asia, our business was earning about
half our daily expenses through book sales and pay per click advertising on our
web site. It wasn't a lot, but it was a start and showed potential. The number
of site visitors was growing -- sometimes doubling in one month -- thanks to the
thousands of folks who found us through search engines, subscribed to our email
list, and passed our stories on to friends.
We also attracted a few sponsorships, which helped cut down on
expenses. Ortlieb, the German-based manufacturer of high-end cycling panniers,
offered us two full sets of their excellent waterproof bags. Phil Wood Co.,
maker of the world’s best bicycle hubs and more, gave us two sets of sealed hubs
-- just before I was about to buy these things myself. Koga USA, the American
arm of the Dutch maker of touring bicycles, offered two bikes at wholesale cost
and the mechanism to refer customers from our web site and earn commission
sales.
After two years of hard work as nobodies, it seemed we were
finally being discovered by the cycling world.
Our original plan after spending time in Indiana was to head
to Africa. But the dollar was doing better in Asia, expenses were less there and
Cindie found a great deal on a pair of one-way tickets to Bangkok. So Asia it
was.
As we prepared to ship out to Thailand on Nov. 22, 2004 we
really had no idea if our plan would work. This new way of living would require
us to run our business from our saddles – using our laptop for what others do in
an office, and checking in when we were in towns large enough to have Internet
access, hard to find in rural Southeast Asia.
We were cycling entrepreneurs; early pioneers in international
travel telecommuting and only time would tell if our business plan would work.
The catch was all of our business endeavors had to pan out. We had less money
for traveling now that we had invested in a book. Would our book pay off? How
long would it take to get our investment back and break even with our monthly
expenses? We had no idea. If we succeeded we could travel indefinitely. If we
failed we would fall flat on our faces and have to go home and look for jobs
sooner than expected.
And were we ready for Asia? We didn’t know that either, but
figured we’d find out soon. After two years on the road, we had suffered through
mechanical problems, exhaustion, learning a foreign language, dangerous traffic,
crime, poverty, illnesses and culture shock. We felt like grizzled,
cycle-touring veterans. I was 38 years old; my wife 43. It was six years since
we biked up to a drive-thru wedding chapel in Las Vegas, said our vows and rode
away on a tandem bike.
I promised Cindie that life together wouldn’t be boring. And
it certainly hasn’t been. But Asia would be different from our time in Latin
America. There would be multiple languages, most of which we wouldn’t have a
chance of understanding, plus an entirely foreign alphabet. The customs and
religions would be completely different to what we had grown up with. We would
be eating mysterious foods. Smelling exotic scents. And it would mean a new and
intimidating distance from home -- halfway around the world from America and our
families.
We were nervous, but there was no point in stopping now. We
were addicted to freedom and financially committed. And the only cure was the
road that has no end.
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