The Art of the Misadventure
This won’t come as a shock to any of you, but I was recently a finalist in a competition called “The World’s Unluckiest Traveler.” It may not sound like an award a person wants, but I feel like it’s my version of an Oscar. The award was to come with a hefty amount of travel vouchers, but really I just wanted the bragging rights. Having spent several months in communication with the sponsors of the contest, they also knew that in addition to the story I submitted, I had a handful of other stories that could qualify me for this distinction and that I even have a blog called Miss Adventurous Travel. So upon hearing that I had not won, they contacted me and told me that they felt confident, given my history, that I would be a finalist next year.
But all this talk of travel got me reminiscing about the crème de la crème of adventures I’ve had in my life. And despite the many perfectly planned and executed trips that I have had it is always the ones that went wrong that stick out in my mind and are held dearest to my heart.
I can still remember the first time I had a misadventure.
I was 5. My family and I had gone to Colorado for vacation like we did every year back then. My parents had decided that it would be an awesome idea for all of us (my three brothers and I) to hike up a mountain and back.
The only problem was, somewhere along the way we lost the trail. As dusk approached, my parents were desperately trying to figure out what to do. With no cell phones and absolutely no one else around, there wasn't much to do but keep walking. But throughout all of it, I wasn't scared...as a matter of fact, I felt there was absolutely nothing to worry about because I was packin' a ziploc bag full of gummy bears in my purple "My Little Pony" backpack. And I knew this secret weapon would make everything okay.
Actually, that was probably a lie...I’m sure I was terrified. I vaguely remember my three older brothers trying to scare me in regards to the overpopulation of snakes that they said existed in the woods and only came out at night. But I’m sure the gummy bears brought some level of comfort.
Eventually we did make it out of the mountain...but we landed on the wrong side of it and my dad had to hitchhike to the opposite side to get the car.
It was the first of many misadventures that would follow.
I went quite a few years without any trouble after that. All trips went according to plan, no delays, no accidents. It was a dark period in my life.
I was 5. My family and I had gone to Colorado for vacation like we did every year back then. My parents had decided that it would be an awesome idea for all of us (my three brothers and I) to hike up a mountain and back.
The only problem was, somewhere along the way we lost the trail. As dusk approached, my parents were desperately trying to figure out what to do. With no cell phones and absolutely no one else around, there wasn't much to do but keep walking. But throughout all of it, I wasn't scared...as a matter of fact, I felt there was absolutely nothing to worry about because I was packin' a ziploc bag full of gummy bears in my purple "My Little Pony" backpack. And I knew this secret weapon would make everything okay.
Actually, that was probably a lie...I’m sure I was terrified. I vaguely remember my three older brothers trying to scare me in regards to the overpopulation of snakes that they said existed in the woods and only came out at night. But I’m sure the gummy bears brought some level of comfort.
Eventually we did make it out of the mountain...but we landed on the wrong side of it and my dad had to hitchhike to the opposite side to get the car.
It was the first of many misadventures that would follow.
I went quite a few years without any trouble after that. All trips went according to plan, no delays, no accidents. It was a dark period in my life.
And then enter Laura, my best friend from high school. To be honest, we never really got into much trouble when we were in high school…it was only when we were in college she in North Carolina and me in Oregon, that we managed to get ourselves into trouble.
There was the road trip across the country that we took after getting massively sunburnt. We drove from Oregon to Nebraska in the middle of the summer in my old beat-up 87 Volvo I named “Blue.” Blue didn’t have air conditioning. So you can imagine the comfort level of our already scorched skin in 110 degree weather while we draped ourselves in wet wash clothes and with windows down got “Blue” up to 90 mph for only the second time in its life. It should be noted at this point that the other time “Blue” got above 90 mph was when I was trying to out run a tornado. I won. But I digress…it was on this same trip that my dear sweet old “Blue” found itself trapped in a puddle of mud on a dirt road roughly 6 miles from the nearest house in the middle of nowhere Wyoming.
And then there was the time that Laura and I went on a trip to Colorado to go whitewater rafting. But before that could happen I wound up in the hospital for almost a week having emergency surgery to remove my gallbladder. What was supposed to be a cheap weekend trip wound up being the most expensive vacation of my life. I would have been more bothered by it, but I was hopped up on Deladed and hallucinating blue coyotes having staring contests with me from the corner of my room.
And then Hawaii happened and opened a door to misadventures I never even dreamed possible.
It started out innocently enough with us biking down Haleakala, a volcano on Maui, at sunrise. Except, a quarter-mile into the ride a part of the rental bike I had shifted and I careened off the side of the volcano.
It started out innocently enough with us biking down Haleakala, a volcano on Maui, at sunrise. Except, a quarter-mile into the ride a part of the rental bike I had shifted and I careened off the side of the volcano.
Me about to proceed with EXTREME caution on Haleakala
But my favorite misadventure I have had was when Laura talked me into sea kayaking off of the shores of Oahu.
Picture this: You're in one of the most beautiful places on earth, on one of the more remote beaches on Oahu, you'll be kayaking between Kailua beach and Lanikai beach, which run parallel to the two mini islands a mile or so off the coast, called the Mokulua Islands, or The Twin Islands. It's paradise.
Now, sea kayaking sounds awesome in theory, and honestly I had always wanted to try it. But the peaceful, serene atmosphere that I had always imagined quickly crumbled before my eyes. We ended up getting a two-person kayak so that if I ended up getting carried out to sea, Laura would come with me. It was a wise decision, because I'm pretty sure I'd be floating somewhere in the middle of the pacific right now if we hadn't.
Picture this: You're in one of the most beautiful places on earth, on one of the more remote beaches on Oahu, you'll be kayaking between Kailua beach and Lanikai beach, which run parallel to the two mini islands a mile or so off the coast, called the Mokulua Islands, or The Twin Islands. It's paradise.
Now, sea kayaking sounds awesome in theory, and honestly I had always wanted to try it. But the peaceful, serene atmosphere that I had always imagined quickly crumbled before my eyes. We ended up getting a two-person kayak so that if I ended up getting carried out to sea, Laura would come with me. It was a wise decision, because I'm pretty sure I'd be floating somewhere in the middle of the pacific right now if we hadn't.
As we walked out the door of the kayak rental place, I made note of a cautionary sign that noted that due to currents that day, the passage to the Mokolua islands was open only for expert kayakers. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but clearly I should have factored Laura’s sanity into the whole equation, but more on that later.
The first thing I learned about sea kayaks is that they are hard to get into. We capsized no less than 3 times while trying to set off on our adventure. Once we finally got the hang of it and set off, it was amazing. The views couldn't be beat and the water couldn't be bluer.
After kayaking around for awhile, and capsizing a small handful of additional times, Laura decides that we are what the rafting guides considered "experts" and that we should kayak out to the Mokulua islands which had been labeled for "EXPERT KAYAKERS ONLY"
I spent a good deal of time trying to talk her out of it, pleading that her 1 prior sea kayak experience, and my current 45 minutes of experience did not make us experts. But, alas, she didn't listen. I even tried paddling in the opposite direction, but that didn’t work either. In retrospect, I probably should have ducked and rolled outta the boat and swam ashore. But I didn't. Besides, I was feeling overly confident because earlier that day I had finally figured out how to say the name of Hawaii’s state fish…in case you were wondering it’s humuhumunukunuku apua’a.
As we approached the small island giant waves wrapped around it and crashed together in the middle of the beach. There was no good way of landing on the island, and eventually a wave took us down.
Drenched, but alive, we washed ashore. And amazingly so did all of our gear.
But more troublesome than our arrival on the island was the thought of departing. And as we watched these giant waves crashing together in front of us I flashed back to when we were had attempted to get in the kayak in calm waters. I knew it wasn’t going to end well.
After kayaking around for awhile, and capsizing a small handful of additional times, Laura decides that we are what the rafting guides considered "experts" and that we should kayak out to the Mokulua islands which had been labeled for "EXPERT KAYAKERS ONLY"
I spent a good deal of time trying to talk her out of it, pleading that her 1 prior sea kayak experience, and my current 45 minutes of experience did not make us experts. But, alas, she didn't listen. I even tried paddling in the opposite direction, but that didn’t work either. In retrospect, I probably should have ducked and rolled outta the boat and swam ashore. But I didn't. Besides, I was feeling overly confident because earlier that day I had finally figured out how to say the name of Hawaii’s state fish…in case you were wondering it’s humuhumunukunuku apua’a.
As we approached the small island giant waves wrapped around it and crashed together in the middle of the beach. There was no good way of landing on the island, and eventually a wave took us down.
Drenched, but alive, we washed ashore. And amazingly so did all of our gear.
But more troublesome than our arrival on the island was the thought of departing. And as we watched these giant waves crashing together in front of us I flashed back to when we were had attempted to get in the kayak in calm waters. I knew it wasn’t going to end well.
As expected, our attempts to leave the island weren’t met with success. After watching us struggle for quite some time, and watching both Laura and I nearly drown twice, a merry band of surfer dudes came to our rescue, helped us back on shore and got us situated in the kayak. Then they pulled us out of the rough patch of water. As we paddled off one of the surfers shouted to us “We’re with the Peter Miller Foundation, dude! Look us up!” I did look them up a few weeks later and made a donation to their foundation thanking them for saving us, they wrote back and were amused and appreciative. I’m pretty sure if those guys hadn’t been there Laura and I would still be stuck on that island living Swiss Family Robinson-style.
But our fun with sea kayaking wasn’t over yet. We were in calm waters midway between the Mokolua islands and Lanikai beach when suddenly, and for no apparent reason, we capsized.
It should be noted at this point that I am a swimmer. I have swam laps my whole life, was even captain of my swim team in high school. But there is nothing as humbling as trying to stay afloat in the middle of the ocean. Laura and I made several attempts to get back in our kayak, but to no avail. I was starting to get fatigued because I had been panicking, and despite the fact that it looked relatively calm on the surface, the current was very active underneath.
I lead a charmed life. I’m very convinced of this. Because just about the time that I was going to turn to Laura and say “Save yourself!” a kayak guide approached us.
He pulled Laura up into the front of the kayak and then attempted to pull me up in the back. We capsized a few more times, and then, finally, I managed to flop up on the back of the kayak laying on my stomach. I didn’t dare move. I was afraid we’d capsize again.
I smiled at the kayak guide, who probably thought I was drunk at this point. He attempted to correct my position on the kayak and I waved to him…
“No, no I am fine. I’m just going to lay here for awhile. I’m good.” I gave him a thumbs up and thanked him for his troubles.
It was then that I realized that he had about 8 kayakers in tow that had been watching the entire spectacle. I smiled and waved to them as they passed by, “Nothing to see here, folks! Just keep on paddling!” they laughed and Laura about capsized the boat again laughing.
I laid like that, on my stomach, perpendicular to the kayak for about half the distance back to the mainland…making Laura paddle the whole way as penance for what she had gotten us in to.
We made it back to land finally, and in a final act of defiance, the kayak whipped around and tripped me as I stood to get out of the boat, causing me to fall back into the ocean, once more. Turns out, there’s a right way to get out of a kayak...and then there’s a wrong way. Guess which one I took?
But the thing that ties all these stories together is the fact that during all of these absurd and insane adventures, I couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situations I get myself into. You can choose to get mad about things not going the way you planned, or you can laugh and realize you may not have ended up where you planned, but you ended up going on an adventure you never expected and walking away with a story you will never forget.
We made it back to land finally, and in a final act of defiance, the kayak whipped around and tripped me as I stood to get out of the boat, causing me to fall back into the ocean, once more. Turns out, there’s a right way to get out of a kayak...and then there’s a wrong way. Guess which one I took?
But the thing that ties all these stories together is the fact that during all of these absurd and insane adventures, I couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situations I get myself into. You can choose to get mad about things not going the way you planned, or you can laugh and realize you may not have ended up where you planned, but you ended up going on an adventure you never expected and walking away with a story you will never forget.
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