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Getting ready to leave Hawaii was as exciting and terrifying as a seventeen year old preparing to leave home for the first time to go to college. It was a perfect example of the "approach-avoidance" phenomenon.
It was morning and our flight was at noon, normally plenty of time to pack and prepare. But in the heat and humidity of Honolulu with what was ahead, there was a sense of emergency about our every move and the many decisions about what to keep and what to jettison.
In the final hour before leaving for the airport I managed to squeeze, cram and stuff everything in my pack. Somehow it all seemed to fit, although I didn't believe the straps were strong enough to lift it all. Proudly I looked down at my work, a bulging mass of non-Euclidean precision, a year's worth of stuff for living on the road.
And as I marveled at this sight I realized my legs were nude. I had no pants on. They were packed.
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