In Search of Adventure: A Wild Travel Anthology - Softcover

Northam, Bruce; Olsen, Brad

 
9781888729030: In Search of Adventure: A Wild Travel Anthology

Inhaltsangabe

These short travel essays from around the globe get to the heart of what the words travel and adventure really mean. In Search of Adventure explores the good, the bad, and the ugly of what traveling the world has to offer. The ?Trampled Underfoot” section features tales of woe on the road?the worst of the worst, or making the best of the worst. In ?Global Issues & Viewpoints,” authors explore the changing world, oppressive governments, and the homogenizing of world cultures. From warm and inviting to raw and shocking, these nonfiction travel pieces present disparate viewpoints on the diverse world in which we live and leave no emotion untouched.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Brad Olsen is the editor of Trips magazine, the author of World Stompers: A Global Travel Manifesto and is the author and illustrator of the Extreme Adventures book series. He lives in San Francisco, California. Bruce Northam is the author of The Frugal Globetrotter. He lives in New York City.

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In Search of Adventure

A Wild Travel Anthology

By Bruce Northam, Brad Olsen

Consortium of Collective Consciousness

Copyright © 1999 Bruce Northam Brad Olsen
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-888729-03-0

Contents

Title Page,
Copyright Page,
Acknowledgements,
Prologue,
Introduction,
SIMPLY AMAZING - The Wild and the Wacky,
SO THAT'S HOW IT WORKS - ... Or Does It?,
MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Who (or What) Are You?,
SERENDIPITY AND FRIENDSHIP - The Kaleidoscope of Personality,
GLOBAL ISSUES AND VIEWPOINTS - Lost (and Found) Idealism,
BOY, WAS I A BONEHEAD OR WHAT? - Misadventures,
INTIMACY - Love on the Move,
INNER QUEST - The Will and the Why,
INTREPID ARCHETYPES - They Broke the Mold ...,
TRAMPLED UNDERFOOT - The elusion of boredom isn't always a vacation.,
BEGINNINGS - Setting Out,
THRIFTY TRAVEL SAVVY - Cheap Tricks,
GOING HOME - The Final Hurdle,
Author Bios and Quotes,


CHAPTER 1

Mongolia: Adventures in You-Cut Hairstyling


Tim Cahill


A popular archaeological theory is that the Mongolian people may have been the first Americans. A dedicated "Mer-ee-koon" sets out, and encounters the yogurt riders.


THERE WERE A DOZEN OF US, riding the immense central Asian grassland on sturdy Mongolian horses. When I glanced back for a view of the glacier and the sacred mountain we had just visited, I saw two tiny specks inching down the steep windswept hillside, moving in our direction. I turned on my horse, and glassed the hill with a little four power Russian monocle. The pursuing riders were coming towards us at a stiff trot. They were at least two miles back and about 1000 feet above us. Each man held something in his right hand. I could plainly see the glint of metal.

"They carrying," one of the Americans asked.

"Yeah," I said, "both of them."

Bayarra Sanjaasuren, our translator, conveyed the information to the Mongolian wranglers. This was serious: We had yogurt riders on our tail. Again.

"Tchoo," half a dozen men shouted at once.

Tchoo is the Mongolian equivalent of "giddiup." Mongolian horses respond smartly to tchoo, no matter who says it. Guy next to you says "tchoo," you're off at a gallop. We were riding a dozen men abreast because Mongolians do not ride in single file. A defeated army, they say, rides single file. And now, with the dreaded yogurt riders in pursuit, our little party sounded like the whole first grade trying to imitate a locomotive.

"Tchoo, tchoo ...

"Tchoo, tchoo, tchoo ..."

Significantly, there is no Mongolian word that corresponds to "whoa."

We'd been riding eight to twelve hours a day, every day, for a week, and I was fairly comfortable in the old Russian cavalry saddle I'd been given. It was a pair of metal hoops on a wooden frame, covered over in peeling leather stuffed with horse hair. The stirrups were metal hoops connected to the frame with rawhide straps. The Mongolians in our party rode ornate handcarved wooden saddles, the best of them festooned with beaten silver medallions.

"Tchoo," I said, and stood up a bit in the saddle so my horse could stretch into his long gallop.

The ground we were approaching, however, was humped up in the marshy tussocks characteristic of soil that is permanently frozen a few feet below the surface. We were only at about 48 degrees north — about the latitude of Seattle — but cold fronts originating in Siberia, to our north, seem to flow down the great Yenisey River, Northern Asia's Amazon, and funnel into Mongolia. Nowhere else

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ISBN 10:  1888729309 ISBN 13:  9781888729306
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