Jul 03 2008
Karl’s Bio
“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.”
Mark Twain - “The Innocents Abroad”
How the youngest of ten children dreamed of travel far from his home in Saint Louis.
I was born in 1962, among the last of the baby boomers. My father served in the Navy during WWII, having met my mother at a USO dance, and after the war, like many others, settled down to raise large families. It was the beginning of the automobile age, and a love for road tripping across the United States was soon born. The war had made travelers out of the soldiers, as they went to exotic places reserved before only for the wealthier members of society, and were fascinated by the people and the cultures that they met. Route 66 was born, and then the interstate highway system, allowing those returning adventurers a chance to explore their own country. Some of my happiest childhood memories were of those long trips, mostly out west, as my parents loaded ten children into an old green Rambler station wagon. We had little money, but the roads were free and the sense of adventure infectious. On those mornings that I awoke in distant states, I felt the heady possibility that anything awaited me that day. It was from these trips that a poor kid from the midwest dreamed of faraway lands.
Finally abroad: Backpacking Europe in my twenties.
Europe was the next step in my multi-cultured education. I remember how I walked around smiling all the time, actually being in cities that I’d only read about or seen in movies or television. I stayed in youth hostels and met people from all over the world who were so willing to share their ideas and knowledge. I went to amazing museums and tried to immerse myself in art and culture. It spurred me to read various topics to fill in the vast holes in my knowledge. There I also met the “serious travelers” who had been on the road for years, working odd jobs to finance the next leg of their travels. They taught me important lessons in humility, that in any given room there was always someone who had been to ten times as many places as you, or been on the road months or years longer. Lastly, I was taught on a daily basis how kind the majority of people are in this world.
Driving the Alaska Highway
After my father passed away I turned my attention to Alaska. Dad was always fascinated by the building of the Alaska Highway, pulling out maps to show me the route and explaining how arduous the journey was. He had missed his chance to go but I was determined to make the trip in his memory. My resources were meager, and my car an old Ford Festiva with 120,000 miles on it, but decided to give it a shot and figured I could work the summer in a salmon processing plant to fund the trip. At the last moment my university aged niece Megan decided to join me, so we headed north to Canada, crossing at Winnipeg and turning west to the Yukon territory and the start of the Alaska Highway. After the great plains of Canada, west of Edmonton, the scenery turned to vast forests and towering mountains filled with incredible daily wildlife sightings. To our vast surprise, the car made it there and back; we found jobs; and in the process made kind, fascinating friends to ease the sore muscles of a grueling salmon season.
Mexico, Central and South America
Buses down the Inter Americana and Pan American Highways.
My next great trip idea was born one day with the idea “I wonder if you walked out your front door whether you could get to the bottom of South America without flying?” Oddly, the stars seemed to align for this trip. My friend Brad had been posted in Panama with the Peace Corps and Christie, a teacher friend of his wanted to travel with me down to visit during her summer vacation. After she flew home my nieces Megan and Kelsey met me in Panama to do the second leg of the trip through South America, on the way to visit their Aunt Dolly who lived in Brazil. This six month odyssey through lands seldom visited by north Americans made me wonder why I used to fear these places. In beautiful towns, families with kind faces and wide smiles shared their lives while asking about ours. We did have to take one short flight from Panama to Colombia, unable to find a path through the Darien Gap. The emerald green, jagged Andean peaks and the deserted homes of ancient civilizations like Machu Picchu coupled with the easy kindness of the people we met made every overnight bus worthwhile. After a turbulent, sea sick freighter passage in southern Chile we made it to Punta Arenas and the end of the Americas. In Brazil we whiled away a great month visiting Megan and Kelsey’s aunt before we made our way home by plane.
Japan and Asia
A year as an English teacher in Japan and six months touring Asia.
While we were in South America, broke as always, we met several English teachers who emphatically recommended that we try teaching to fund our next adventure. They said that you could work for a year, and in addition to experiencing a great foreign culture, earn enough to travel for a while afterwards. It only took Megan and I two months to find teaching jobs in Japan. Japan is a beautiful country, so different from the west and so exotic. We devoured the culture, and our students took delight in exposing us to as much as possible. They were great friends.
After our tearful good byes we went to South Korea, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam and Nepal. Each country brought great new experiences and new friends. There was a quick diversion through France, Italy and England before we turned toward home. After eighteen months abroad we horrified US Border Security by walking up with all of our possessions in a single backpack each. ”This is all you have after eighteen months abroad?” the guard asked incredulously, with the funniest look of true surprise on his face. ”Yup” was all we replied. Against his better judgement he welcomed us home.
The rest of me
When I’m not dreaming of my next adventure I spend my time working at a group home where six differently abled men live. I have worked at the St. Louis ARC since 1991, and besides referring to me as “the free spirit” my friends there kindly welcome me back after each adventure. I’m lucky enough to surround myself with friends and family: nine siblings; eighteen nieces and nephews; plus eleven great nieces and nephews and counting.
Hello Karl,
Love, reading about your adventures….Ran into Megan at the post office and she told me about your web site. We need to get together and have dinner sometime before your next adventure.
Happy travels,
Lenise
Hi Karl,
I’ve enjoyed reading your canoeing adventure. I see you ended your trip and will re start your canoe trip where I hope to start mine, in June or July this year 2009.
I’m driving to St Louis to pick up my canoe I left there last year and am looking for a place to park my care in Brainerd, St Cloud or Minniapolis. I have portage wheels..
Maybe I’ll see you on the Mighty Mississippi…my canoe is a red, 16 foot Old Town. Rick in Ft Lauderdale.