It was July 2000, somewhere in the far northwest of Australia. A hot wind laden with ash from bush fires created huge whirly-whirleys amid red termite mounds under a cobalt sky.  The nearest town was hundreds of miles and several days away. It was quiet save for a few mournful crows picking through the desolation of roast kangaroo. It seemed an unlikely place to produce an epiphany.
My wife, Claire and I pedaled our tandem bicycle through this strangely beautiful landscape for seven hours that day, as we had done most days since arriving in Australia two months before.  We were riding the perimeter of the island/continent, and were a third the way around, after a detour to the red center.  Hour after hour we pedaled, each lost in our own thoughts, in a reverie of repetitive exercise, entranced by the exotic outback.
Quite suddenly, and quite naturally it seemed, the thought came, "If I were to die in this moment I would die satisfied, fulfilled."  What a blessing!  Not just to be happy with my life, but to be so happy as to be able to let go of it without remorse.  I realize just how fortunate I was to be living my dreams.
And best of all, I was doing it with my very best friend, my wife.  We would celebrate our wedding anniversary in a few weeks on the tropical coast of the Indian Ocean, a few thousand miles east of our first adventure together on the plains of East Africa, fifteen years before.  And what a wonderful life we have had together; kayaking the Canadian Pacific coast on our honeymoon, our first tandem tour of America, 14,000 miles of discovery, another 8,000 miles in Canada from coast to coast, and in recent years living in a motor home, discovering the nooks and crannies of America we missed on the bicycle.  We've been chased by an elephant, petted a koala, hugged a wombat and been belched at by a camel.  We've nearly been struck by lightning, been chewed on by fire ants, threatened by lethal snakes and were nearly run down by an emu.  We've swum on the Great Barrier Reef, hiked the Grand Canyon, followed the great herds of wildebeest on the plains of Africa, and pedaled to one of the most remote places on our planet.
No, we are not wealthy.  We own a motor home, a kayak, some bicycles, hiking boots, a tent, sleeping bag, cameras, a laptop computer, and not much else. We have time, and each other, and plans for the future.  And so many memories.  In that way we are filthy  rich. 
And yes, we did complete that journey around Australia, for a total of 34,000 miles traveling on our tandem in the past seven years. Either Asia or South America is in our future, and perhaps a live-aboard sailboat in a few years.
My life is not for everyone. "Sounds like too much work," some of you are saying.  I think I hear, "irresponsible!" coming from the amen corner.  But, one or two might say, "Wish I'd done something like that."  Well, do it now!  Do the thing you've always wanted to do.  Follow that outrageous dream, whatever it might be. I have, and have not been sorry.  This life is not a dress rehearsal.  The stage beckons. Don't stand in the wings.  Do it!  Someday the curtain will close, as it has already for too many of our classmates.  Some of them departed fulfilled.  Some didn't.  How about you?
I hope this begins a dialog on this page on the meaning of the last 40 years, and, more importantly the next......
All the best,

Bob Rogers

I've been very blessed for having taken a bit of a different road in life.