Inline Magazine July 1996

O.K. I'll admit it: I'm a travelaholic. Even though my passport still has a good 10 years left on it, it's so chock full of stamps by now that I desperately need a new one - or at least a fold-out section. Last year alone, my passport gained me entry into China, Japan, Vietnam, Thailand, Korea, India, Barbados, The Netherlands, Belgium, and France. (Luckily, on my most recent escapade to Maui -- where I skated down a 10,000 foot volcano --my driver's license was all I needed to show to gain access to the island.)

Even when I was a wee lad I had a problem sitting still -- not because I had an attention disorder or a small bladder, but because of my predisposition for adventure. Then, like now, it precluded being tied to any one place. In grammar school I explored the Presidio of San Francisco military base extensively. In high school I expanded the boundaries of my known world by running as far as I could before turning back to face reality. During university, I majored in physical geography so that when I was not out in the field, I thought myself outside by reading maps.

Over the years my need to stay in motion has transformed itself into a strong and irresistible urge to travel, an insatiable desire to discover the endless variety of people and places and things this world has to offer. As a result, I've ventured to and through some of the busiest capitals and some of the most remote corners imaginable.

In Vietnam, after leaving Saigon, where pigs rooted in the street and kids ran naked alongside scooters, I went to the Mekong Delta, where I paddled a canoe and saw kids come running out of palm-frond-covered bamboo shacks in flooded fields alongside roads that are dirt all the way into town and beyond. In Thailand, where coconuts drifted up onto the shore of a tropical island (population: 750), I could put my head underwater and be surrounded by countless nipping fish of every conceivable shape and color. Then, in India, with the scent of spicy masala dosas wafting through the air, I saw veiled faces and turban heads emerging from an intricately carved yellow sandstone house that, in the afternoon light, glowed like a fairy tale town.

It's a harsh reality that my mom -- and probably some of my closest competitors, too -- would rather see me toting a briefcase downtown somewhere than traveling the world over. But stay anywhere too long, I tell people, and things just start going around in tired circles. Then again, perhaps I'm afflicted with wanderlust just because I know that someday I may actually have to sit down behind a desk to earn my keep.

Meanwhile, though, traveling keeps me alive. Every interaction is an adventure that spikes my blood with fresh adrenaline. Everything I look at is a brand new visual stimulus that jazzes my soul. At the end of the day, memories of the day gone by and anticipatory excitement of the day to come jockey for attention in my mind Traveling is enriching: It continuously fills my reservoir of dream stock.

Having in-lines along naturally heightens the joy of discovery of a place or culture. The ultimate way to see cities, skating is also the way to appreciate the lay of the land in the country, or to bring out smiles of people anywhere. In-lines are a rush compared to going places with Fred and Ethel (my own two feet). With skates I can literally see twice as much in half the time.

Still, no matter how far afield I wander, the world will always remain for me infinitely large and infinitely unknowable. There's beauty and mystery and tragedy to it all: the more I travel in order to get to know my world, the more I realize I need to travel to get to know my world. The universe is in constant flux - from the tiniest atom to the most massive galaxy. On earth and on skates I feel that ceaseless motion and want to remain a part of it. Traveling is my way of tapping into that energy, of staying engaged while I have a mind and a body that are able.

Thanks to skating, I have the best passport to adventure in the world . I just hope I get a chance to renew it and use it again soon.


PHOTOS:

1. A crowd of inquisitive Indian youth clustered around me as I skated in the Rajasthani Desert near Jaisalmer. That night they all dreamed of having a pair of in-lines of their own.

2. Right around the corner from the snake market in Lao Cai, Vietnam - where captive snakes share cages with terrified chicks - this woman sold me cherries and sprinkled them with salt.

3. In the arid provinces of India, camels are more common than cars. On the lonely road between Bikaner and Pushkar in Rajasthan, I encountered a ship of the desert and made friends with the human cargo.

4. A typically congested street scene in Old Delhi, India, where in-line skates become the ultimate mode of transportation for getting through gridlock.
Trishaw drivers, rather than pester you to get in their vehicle, stare in amazement as you snake by.

5. All across India - at forts, temples, mausoleums, observatories, national monuments and natural wonders - monkeys (like cows) are given the run of the place. They owe their protected status to mythical lore that elevates monkeys to god-like status. Here, at the Ajmer fort in Jaipur, a monkey stuffs himself with a ritual marigold garland snatched from the outstretched arm a delighted girl.

6. Center-of-attention status goes to he who wears the glasses. These boys, from a Hmong hill tribe near Sapa, Vietnam, were so endearing that I wanted to take the whole lot home with me.
7. In Bangkok, Thailand, reverence for the monarchy and the Buddha are at an all-time high. Insult either and go straight to jail.

8. Women at a fish-processing plant in Vung Tau, Vietnam, looked up from their work as I flew by on skates and photographed them. Soon after this picture was taken, they were chided by their boss for the momentary work stoppage.

9. As I paddled with a guide near an old base for the Viet Cong in the Mekong River Delta, I spied old bunkers and command posts in the mangrove swamps. Recovered from the wholesale environmental disaster of defoliants during the Vietnam War, today this flooded environment produces a prolific number of snakes sold at the snake market in town.

10. I hiked all day in north Vietnam and came upon this doubly bespectacled great-grandmother stitching away at a piece of cloth. Her traditional clothes are decorated from head to toe with mind-bogglingly intricate needle point.

11. During a trekking expedition in north Vietnam, I came across these two future champions and counseled them in my best body language not to litter their candy wrappers - the counsel didn't work exactly as I expected. The rest of that day they followed me around, giving me little bits of paper and wrappers they had picked up off the ground.