Self Doubt Rears its Ugly Head

I think my (sometimes inappropriate) self-confidence has been pretty well documented at this point. After all, I am one of the most interesting people I know! This isn’t a result of any sort of objective achievement in the field of Being Interesting. I am just the only person I know who exclusively does things that are interesting to me, so I am pretty much just the best.

Liking yourself is certainly an admirable quality in a culture that wants me to be apologetic for most things about myself. The flip side to liking yourself as much as I do is that, I sometimes need to get knocked down a peg. Confidence building workshops are entirely lost me, and its much harder to find a convention in some Radisson somewhere that hosts confidence destroying event. So, while the self help industry has little to offer, thankfully, the universe is usually happy to oblige.

I have been a global traveler for 20 years now. I pretty much got it down. I will whiz through TSA, proud of my cheap airfare, and confident that I have anticipated nearly every need. I know how to travel on a budget, and where to get the best deals. I have done multiple road trips and foreign travel with others, and by myself. Up until recently I had been to more foreign countries than U.S. states. I know basic sentences in the primary European languages, how to eat well and on the cheap. There is nothing I can’t handle! Cabbie trying to take advantage of someone new to town? No problem! No cell service? Please. Crowded tourist traps? As if.

You can start to see why I need something to reign me in every now and then.  Because as satisfying as it might feel, smugness is not admirable quality. Plus, I find smug people to be pretty boring, and that’s the pits. I am definitely in need of some effective humiliation.

Well, nothing will make you doubt your travel savvy and overall worth as a human being like having a hard time finding the Grand Canyon. It’s literally a gigantic hole in the ground that is 10 miles wide and a mile deep. It’s 277 miles long, and I’ve spent three days trying to get there.

When Theresa and I left the coast, it was with the idea that we would head to the Grand Canyon. Actually, we were planning on going to the Grand Canyon after leaving Portland, but that decision got waylaid.

One thing that I have a hard time understanding as a Midwestern is that there isn’t always a direct route from here to there. Out west, there is usually a mountain in the way. So, there’s been a lot of back tracking, and inefficient route planning. Without boring you with all the tedious details, there have just been a lot of rookie mistakes in the past couple of days, all of which have landed me about an hour south of the Grand Canyon.

But, now that I have been reminded that my driving/travel instincts aren’t the infallible compass I’ve come to expect, it’s time to reset, and reassess my plans. So, Grand Canyon, tomorrow. For sure. Unless we take that Greek guy’s advice and go to Sedona. Or maybe the Petrified Forest.


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