So…I’m currently somewhere above the Gulf of Mexico on a plane to Guatemala. Not sure exactly how it happened, but the story goes something like this.

Back in February, I’m in California getting ready to fly out of SFO on the redeye. On the way to the airport I meet up with a friend of a friend at this great little Peruvian joint in the Mission. Don’t be thrown off by the lingo…“in the Mission” is just city-speak for “somewhere near Mission Street.” I was confused at first too.

Anyway, so we’re eating these chickens, drinking Cusqueñas, talking about how much we both like to travel. So she starts telling me about all the places she’s lived (several of which I pretended to know where they were but secretly had to later consult the Google). In my head I was like ‘Holy crap. I thought I had an interesting life, but I can’t hold a candle to Chica here.’

So when she began talking about how she misses Guatemala and wants to go back and visit but nobody will ever go with her, I was like “Let’s go!” trying to seem all spontaneous & whatnot. We laughed, I took her home, & caught my flight thinking that’d probably be the last I heard about it.

And then, three days later I got the text: “I’m thinking April. You coming?”

So here we are, seats 27E & 27F on a non-stop to Guatemala City. I hear it’s a beautiful country…I’ll let you know how it goes! Luckily, she’s fluent in Spanish, so hopefully she’ll be able to keep us from getting lost or something. On the flip side, with her talking to all the natives, I may not have a clue what’s going on around me for the next 11 days. Regardless, it should be an interesting trip.

Life’s all about the journey, right?

When I first created my bucket list a few years ago, I added some things on there that I really didn’t quite understand or even know what they were, truthfully. Example: visit Silicon Valley. They were just ideas of things that I felt like I should do to expand my horizons.

That brings me to #11: Go to a Rave. My mom never came right out and said it, but I’m pretty sure she was a little leery of this being on the list.

Thing is, I’ve never really understood thump thump club music, nor its listeners dead-set on propping up the glow stick industry. So that’s why it made the list.

When I made my bucket list I tried to throw a couple of things on there that would drag me out of my little bubble and plop me down miles away from my comfort zone. And #11 certainly did.

Remember how I spent a few months in Sonoma? Well, one of my housemates out there is a little more worldly than I when it comes to these things. She’s the first person to introduce me to Dubstep. Ever heard of Dubstep? Me neither.

So when housemate Caroline threw out the idea of going to Lake Tahoe for New Years and catching a Dubstep (Bassnectar, actually) show all in the same weekend, I was on board.

I know some of you purists are going to claim that this wasn’t a true rave, but I’ll let the rest of you watch the video and judge for yourself.

What was it like, you ask? We had an absolute blast. It’s something I can’t really explain with words. It’s more of a feeling you have to experience first hand. And I know what you’re probably thinking, but don’t worry…we didn’t really even break any laws that night!

Bo is currently living in Orange Beach, Alabama trying to come up with ways to fund a sailing trip around the world. If you’d like to be a part of the adventure, consider sponsoring a mile.

2011 was quite a transition year for me…I learned a lot about myself, met a lot of really awesome people, and got to experience some pretty amazing places and events.

With the help of my iPhone and the Project365 app, I took a picture every single day last year. I take a lot of pictures anyway but there were obviously several days when there wasn’t much going on, or I almost forgot. Hence the occasional pictures of my feet.

Regardless, it’s pretty fun to go back and look at the visual history of my 2011 life. While I’m happily crossing #64 off on my bucket list today, I’m still going to try to keep up with the whole photo a day idea…it’s become a habit I don’t want to break. In fact, I think this year I’m going to try to shoot a short video every day just to kick it up a notch.

So that’s my year in photos! I spent New Years at South Lake Tahoe, but I’ll tell you more about that adventure later. Just wondering…are you doing Project 365 or anything similar?

Last January, my friend West and I went to Arizona to watch Auburn win the BCS National Championship Game. We dubbed the trip “Going to the ‘Ship” and milked it into a 20 day, 5700 mile road trip. The following is an entry from my notebook on Day 12.

Here I sit at Inspiration Point in Bryce Canyon National Park. I never imagined a road trip to Arizona would result in my being surrounded by several feet of snow. I’m wearing enough layers to deem my suitcase unnecessary.

As I write, my hands screaming at me for not packing gloves, I can’t shake the need to capture my thoughts on paper. The view I’m experiencing is not just miles. It’s tens or maybe even hundreds of miles. I’m staring at rock formations millions of years in the making.

I can’t begin to fathom what that means.

Experiencing moments—and views—like these…it’s impossible to take the magnificence of our world for granted. As happens so often during this life, I struggle to find the adjectives to properly describe the sights in front of me.

But that’s the way it’s going to have to be, because now it’s just too cold to write.

I was visiting a friend in Birmingham several weeks ago and we went to this restaurant in Homewood. She pointed to a hand drawn pigeon at the bottom corner of the menu and began telling me about how this pigeon has become the mascot of the restaurant because it eats there everyday. She’d never seen Ralph, the pigeon, and we didn’t see him that night either, but it’s a cool story nonetheless.

In fact, if someone ever asks me about that place, I’ll probably tell them all about Ralph and they’ll get a good feeling and ultimately end up eating there.

Because we like easily told, easily digestible stories that make us feel all warm and fuzzy. We like stories we can understand and remember and share.

Two days after learning about Ralph the pigeon, I was speaking with someone I’d only known for a few months. At some point during the conversation, I heard this come out of her mouth…

“I can’t read your blog. All I can think about when I’m reading it is that you’re completely full of sh*t. Like it isn’t real. Like there’s something else you want to say but don’t have the guts to say it.”

Obviously, my initial reaction was defensive. But I was surprised by the fact that somewhere deep down, I actually kind of agreed with her. She was pointing out insecurities that I didn’t even realize I had.

We like everything packaged up in neat, digestible stories with a beginning, middle & end. So that’s how I usually write. That’s how most people write.

The problem is, by perpetuating the idea of simple, easily understood stories, we run the risk of a false sense of understanding about the people and situations around us. Because our lives aren’t like that. We don’t remember the beginning, we only remember snippets of the middle and we have no clue when the end will be.

So sure, it’s easy for me to tell you about my dream of sailing around the world and quitting my job to try and make it happen. But it’s a lot harder to tell you how my life got here. I’m not even sure I know the whole story.

Maybe it began when I was in elementary school and my dad casually mentioned that hopefully one day our family would own a boat.

Or maybe as a heartbroken 18-year old when I found a small sailboat in the woods and poured all my energy into fixing it up and learning to sail.

Or maybe 19-year old me reading “Maiden Voyage”.

Or maybe it was 24-year old me who woke up to see so many hard working career-minded people twice my age on the brink of bankruptcy.

Or maybe it was 26-year old me looking over my newly written bucket list realizing that the direction my life was going was getting me no closer to the destination I was seeking.

Or maybe.

Maybe it’s a combination of all those things and a thousand others we may never know or remember or understand that causes us to have the dreams we have and make the decisions we make.

Because that’s how life works.

We’ll never understand everything about everything, and you know what? That’s ok. There’ll always be more to the story.

I’m not really sure whether or not I read more than other kids growing up. I mean, if there was a summer ready list, you better believe I wouldn’t crack open the first title. But, I remember losing myself in the stories of Encyclopedia Brown, the Boxcar Children and Hardy Boys.

In middle school the only book I can honestly remember reading from cover to cover is the 400 page book on HTML that my uncle gave me. Really…I’m not a dork.

In high school I made my way through most of John Grisham’s offerings, as well as the occasional—don’t judge—Nicholas Sparks book.

But I don’t recall any of these books changing my life. At least, not in the way that “Maiden Voyage” did.

It’s a true story, which I think makes it all the more moving. The bottom line is that this high school punk girl, Tania, was always getting into trouble. So her dad gave her a choice. When she graduated, she had to go to college or sail a 26’ sailboat around the world. Alone.

Now do you see why I’m telling you about this?

She chose the sailboat. A few years and 27,000 miles later, she completed her circumnavigation and became the youngest person to sail around the globe alone.

With the help of the editor of Cruising World magazine, Tania ultimately wrote the book that would inspire countless adventurers. It’s an amazing story that I’ve read at least 15 times over the past 9 years.

I can no doubt credit this novel with giving me the idea that sailing around the world was actually an achievable feat…it doesn’t take some mystical sailing gene or decades of experience. It just takes a dream and determination.

Thank you, Tania, for choosing the road less traveled & sharing your experience with the world. Oh…I also must thank Anne’s mom, Ms. Suzette, because I’m pretty sure she recommended the book to me in the first place.