FAQs compiled while planning a bicycling trip to New Zealand, from California

Should I cycle the North island or the South island?

If you’re on a bike, you’ll probably have to decide between one or the other just for the sake of time. It’s possible to ride onto a ferryboat between Wellington and Havelock, but there is honestly so much to see on either island that you’ll feel rushed trying to see both, unless you have a month of travel time at least.

Here’s the short summary: If you prefer grand snow-capped mountain vistas, icy fjords, and camping, you’ll like the South island more. If you prefer snorkeling and diving, rolling farmland, and geothermal attractions, you’ll like the North island more. Both have plenty of hiking, kayaking, river-rafting, swimming, camping, boating, mountain-biking, museums, farm-stays, nature preserves, etc. An excellent resource is the NZ Frenzy Guidebook.

You may plan a trip of a couple hundred miles and end up ditching it in favor of the nine different things you can do right around your starting point!

What are the best times of year to cycle in NZ?

Summer and fall, between November and March (since NZ is in the southern hemisphere) are best, as you might expect. The tourist rush is heaviest in January and February, so you’ll want to book the most popular attractions and hotels a month or two in advance.

What sort of weather should I anticipate?

The North island is comparable to coastal California, including occasional rain. You’ll want to pack some clothing that can be layered, and include some rain gear. Chances are it will rain at least once every week of your trip.

The Southern island is a bit colder and windier – increasingly so as you travel South on it. This might become a danger on busy roads. If you’re camping you’ll need tent stakes.

What sort of terrain should I anticipate?

New Zealand is mostly hills. Not huge bust-your-neck-vein hills, but gently rolling hills, one after the other. You won’t escape these hills unless you’re traveling right on the coast, and even then there will be hills much of the time. Make sure your bike has a “granny gear”, and plan each day’s distance as though you were traveling it at about 4mph.

On the other hand, you’ll be out in sunshine and very fresh air, traveling almost entirely through rural countryside.

The “mountain bike” is king in NZ, and you’ll find tracks and trails that are suitable for mountain biking all over the place. If you can find a place to stow your long-range gear, you might want to try stripping your bike down for a day and zipping around on a few trails.

What sort of roads and traffic should I anticipate?

The most important thing to know: People drive on the left in NZ, and therefore you cycle on the left. If you’re from California it may take you a few days to reverse all your instincts.

The second-most important thing: Native New Zealanders drive fast – much faster than they should – even on winding roads full of blind curves and rapid (for drivers) elevation change. When you’re out in the countryside, keep an ear open so you can move well to the side when you hear a driver coming. If you’re on a highway, stay as far left as you possibly can. Get some bright clothing, or a safety vest or a flag. That all-black “pro” outdoor gear is great against weather, but not great for visibility!

Also, get yourself a rearview mirror. If you look into it and see an upcoming car, and there’s also an oncoming car such that they’ll be passing each other right as they pass you, you should probably get off the road entirely until they pass, even if it means going into the bushes.

This rule especially applies for trucks. The drivers are sometimes unaware of their size, and unaware that their tailwind can knock a cyclist down – or possibly right into other traffic!

Avoid Highway 1 in the far north as much as you possibly can.

The pressure to avoid fast NZ drivers will hopefully encourage you to seek out less-traveled country roads – where the true glory of cycling in NZ can manifest. You’ll need some good-sized tires (not the narrow urban ones) because many of these roads are hard-packed dirt and gravel, or only roughly paved.

If you have a laptop, a tablet, or even a phone, it’s a good idea to look over your next day’s route at the highest resolution in Google Earth – or even better – with “street view” on Google Maps. You can often figure out what kind of roads you’ll be covering before you even go near them.

Can I bring my bicycle over on the plane?

Yes. If you’re going to NZ, it’s most likely that you’re flying via Air New Zealand, and their policy is pretty good for bicyclists. They have an oversize baggage exception for sporting equipment, which includes bicycles that have been properly packed for transport. When you buy your ticket you can save money by buying “extra bag” units up front. You’ll need at least one for your bicycle.

Note that their regulations have a strict 70-pound limit for any one box, sporting equipment or otherwise, and that includes the weight of the box itself. The good news is, if you pack up your bike and end up splitting it into multiple containers to pass the per-container size or weight requirement, Air NZ will actually count the containers as one item!

If you fly by some other airline – even partially – then you need to respect their rules for luggage, which may be different, and are probably more expensive. Factor that in when you’re looking at ticket prices. Check the Air New Zealand website directly, instead of just using Priceline or Kayak, because they sometimes have special ticket sales that can save you quite a lot of money.

What about a recumbent bicycle on the plane?

If you’re bringing a recumbent, you’ll probably need to use a box that goes into the oversize category, to contain the boom – the spine of your recumbent – for shipping. For example, the Crateworks Tandem box is 70 x 11 x 32 inches, which puts it in the oversize category. You’ll need two “extra bag” units for that box – one because it’s an extra bag, and one because it’s in the oversize category even for sporting equipment. Contact your departing airport in advance, and tell them what you’re bringing and when, if you’re especially paranoid.

On the way out of New Plymouth airport I had a disagreement with an Air NZ employee who claimed that it was not actually possible to pay for the “oversize” status in advance, even though the charge was the same as for an “extra bag”. She said that even though I’d purchased eight extra bag units to more-than-cover my three oversize boxes (two recumbents), I needed to pay three “oversize” charges on top of that anyway before they would load my gear.

I calmly pointed out that the company website says, quite clearly, that the oversize charge is “same as first excess bag charge”, and that there is no sign of a separate “oversize” charge, nor any place to specify one when purchasing tickets. She claimed that it didn’t matter, and I still needed to pay.

When I asked her if we could just redeem the cost of the unused “extra bag” units – five in total – and use that money to pay the three “oversize” units, she said no, because it would take more time processing the refund than we had before the flight. I said “okay” and asked if we could redeem our unused “extra bag” units after the flight instead. She said no – after the flight, it would be too late.

“Okay, how do I redeem them now?” I said. She told us to leave the line and go to a courtesy phone and call up a service department. I asked, “what are the chances we’ll get that done before we have to board the plane?” She said, “not very good, actually.”

So we started over again – quoting from Air NZ’s own website, patiently explaining how SFO had handled it, and generally making our case in a civil manner. Somewhere along the way she realized that, on the face of it, she was deliberately screwing two customers out of 500 dollars for no good reason. She left the desk and talked to the department manager, who took one look at the line behind us, and said, “just send them through.”

The moral of the story is: Sometimes the sheer size of a packed bicycle will cause airport staff to doubt the policies of their own airline. They are used to telling people “no”, and used to people bending the rules. Don’t get upset – remember that in this sort of encounter, the first party to get upset usually loses.

Make your case, and back up your claims with their own documentation. Show them their own website on your phone so they can read it themselves. Yes, one bicycle packed up into multiple oversize boxes really is equivalent to one oversize item, which really is is the equivalent of two “extra bag” purchases on the website. Show it to them, then show it to their manager, then show it to their manager’s manager.

How do I get my bicycle to/from the airport?

You’ll want to box up your bicycle well before the departure date, to make sure you pass the weight requirements. You’re very unlikely to find a box at the airport, let alone have time to pack it properly. That puts a few other things on your to-do list:

You’ll need to arrange transport to and from the airport, for yourself and a large box. You’ll also need to arrange for a safe place to store your box while you’re in NZ, so you can use it for the return flight, or if you’re leaving from a different city, you’ll need to ship the box between your starting and ending city. This sounds harder than it really is – you can set it up just by sending a few emails.

Air New Zealand can fly you in or out from a good number of cities, connecting with Auckland, where all international flights arrive and depart. All these airports have hotels nearby, and many of those hotels will offer to store your folded-up box somewhere while you go on your trip.

If your trip ends in some other city, it’s very likely you can find a hotel that will hold a shipped package for you. So, when you arrive in NZ, you can fold up your box, tape it thoroughly closed, and ship it across the country. It will be too big for the regular NZ post office to handle it, but the official alternative – Mainfreight – will do the job. For an extra fee they offer a package pickup service, but there’s a good chance you can use a taxi service or a shuttle from the airport or hotel to deliver your box to the nearest depot, just before you set out. Shipping times are usually only a couple of days, so your box will arrive way ahead of you!

Are there alternate modes of transportation that will carry me and my bike?

NZ has a very good shuttle system between all the major cities and most of the minor ones. You can purchase tickets in advance, and all the routes will carry your bicycle, with a few exceptions.

After booking your route, it’s a good idea to inform the driver that you’ll be traveling with a bicycle by calling or emailing a day or two in advance.

The ferry between the North and South islands will accept bicycles – just roll them over to the luggage area they designate. Then move all your most valuable items to your backpack, and carry that with you for the ride.

There is a train line on the North island based in Auckland that is faster than the shuttles along the same route, but their bicycle carrying policies are more restrictive.

If you really want independence you could rent a minivan and toss your bike in the back, but this will cost you a lot of money in NZ relative to California, especially if you plan to return the vehicle somewhere other than the pick-up point.

I like cycle-touring with a smartphone. Can I get coverage in NZ?

Almost all of the North island has good cell coverage, and about half of the South island. It’s almost entirely 3G, with sections of LTE. The iPhone 5 will run at 3G speeds, and the iPhone 6 will run at LTE speeds when available. Either speed is more than fast enough to use Google Maps, make reservations, check weather, et cetera.

If you want to upload lots of photos you’ll want to wait until you get to a hotel. Almost all of them offer wifi internet access with some amount of free data, but be aware that for a person from the United States, the free data cap can seem absurdly small. Only a few hotels have unlimited free wifi, a few more have a nice 2GB limit, and the rest place their limit at around 200MB which is not enough to do much of anything except read email.

How much will smartphone coverage cost, and how can I arrange it?

T-Mobile actually has international data for NZ built in to their standard plan. You can just leave the country and the coverage will follow you. In practice, I’ve found that you get much lower data speeds than if you were traveling via AT&T or Verizon, probably because the host carrier puts your device in a lower service tier or something. But hey, it’s still a great deal.

You can also buy temporary roaming coverage for the duration of your trip, if you’re an AT&T or Verizon user.

For example, AT&T offers a multi-tiered package called “AT&T Passport” that covers New Zealand, via partnerships with Vodaphone and Spark. You pay up front for a given date range, and a certain amount of usage, and it starts automatically.

Be aware that if you have wifi at home or at work, your cellular data usage will spike sharply when you travel, because your phone won’t be switching to wifi nearly as often. A single software update or app download can easily blow through half your data if you’re not careful, and push you into the overage charges, which stack up quickly. (If you’re concerned about this, and don’t mind losing your usual phone number for a while, you can buy a SIM card when you arrive in NZ with a 2GB data cap. It will probably cost you about 1/2 of what AT&T charges for the same amount of data.)

New Zealand North Island Itinerary, Part 1

Day 1 (Feb 23)

Auckland International Airport

to

Whangarei Airport, Handforth Street, Whangarei Airport, Whangarei 0110

(90 mile connecting flight)

[ whangareiairport.co.nz ]

Whangarei Airport

to

Mainfreight Transport, 33 Fertilizer Rd, Port Whangarei, Whangarei 0110

(5 mile chartered shuttle, with packed bike boxes)

[ http://www.whangareibus.co.nz/wps-airport-shuttle.html ]

Unpack and assemble bikes here, fold up and compress boxes, mail boxes to destination hotel

[ mainfreight.co.nz ]

Mainfreight Transport

to

Flames International Hotel, 8 Waverley St, Onerahi, Whangarei 0110

(4.3 mile ride)

Day 2 (Feb 24)

Flames International

to

Pacific Coast Kayaks, 66 Beach Road, Onerahi, Whangarei 0110

(1 mile walk at most – since we are nearby they will pick us up.)

[ http://www.nzseakayaking.co.nz ]

Day 3 (Feb 25)

Flames International

to

Beachstay Matapouri, 7 Aspden Place, Matapouri Bay R D 3 0173

(30 miles)

[ http://www.beachstaymatapouri.co.nz/ ]

The route through the woods is more adventurous and scenic, and avoids the perilous Highway 1, but is also a lot more hilly, and mostly gravel road. We’ll probably have to go a mile or two on Highway 1 anyway.

Day 4 (Feb 26)

Beachstay

to

Mermaid Pool and back

(1 mile hike)

The pool is at GPS -35.559016,174.514303 and worth seeing, but the Matapouri beach itself is just as much of an attraction.

[ https://nzfrenzynorth.wordpress.com/ ]

Day 5 (Feb 27)

Beachstay

to

Dive! Tutukaka, Poor Knights Dive Centre, Marina Road, Tutukaka 0173

(4.2 miles to the main office, where they will lock up our bikes.)

All-day kayaking or diving at the islands

[ http://diving.co.nz/go-diving/your-poor-knights-dive-day ]

Dive! Tutukaka

to

Whangarei Falls Backpacker – BBH, 12 Ngunguru Rd, Whangarei 0144

(15 miles)

[ http://www.bbh.co.nz/hd29/ … ]

Day 6 (Feb 28)

Whangarei Backpacker

to

the Waipu caves

(24 miles, with a couple of hard climbs near the end)

[ http://www.doc.govt.nz/ … ]

Waipu caves

to

Waipu Hotel, 4 S Rd, Waipu 0545

(7 miles, mostly downhill)

Elevation change for the full day:

Day 7 (Mar 1)

KeriKeri/Auckland shuttle stop by the Waipu Hotel

to

“Hamilton – Central, New Zealand” shuttle stop

(150 miles – approx 70 to Auckland, 80 to Hamilton)

InterCity bus, Kerikeri/Auckland line ( GPS -35.984153,174.444582 ) boards in Waipu at 9:47am, 11:57am, or 3:07pm, exits in Hamilton after approximately 5 hours. Cost: $85.

[ https://www.intercity.co.nz/ … ]

Will probably need to catch the 9:47am in time to see Diesel.

Hamilton shuttle stop

to

Countdown Hamilton Cnr Anglesea & Liverpool Streets Liverpool Street Hamilton 3204

(1 mile)

Diesel the cat is here! [ https://www.facebook.com/pages/ … ]

From Hamilton Countown store

to

Albert Court Motor Lodge, 29 Albert Street, Hamilton East, Hamilton 3216

(3 miles)

[ http://www.albertcourt.co.nz ]

Day 8 (Mar 2)

Spend most of the day at the Hamilton Gardens, Hungerford Crescent, Hamilton 3216

(0.5 mile)

[ http://www.hamiltongardens.co.nz ]

Cycle from Albert Court Lodge

to

Riverside of Cambridge, 7 Williamson St, Cambridge 3434

(17 miles)

[ http://www.riversidemotel.co.nz ]

This puts us within easy reach of the Shire’s Rest farm tour.

Day 9 (Mar 3)

Riverside of Cambridge

to

Hobbiton Movie Set and Farm Tours, Buckland Road, Matamata

(17 miles)

[ http://www.hobbitontours.com ]

This is just one of those essential New Zealand things for us.

our is booked for 3:30pm, last of the day to get the late light, and plenty of time to cycle over.

Hobbiton Movie Set and Farm Tours, Buckland Road, Matamata

to

Okoroire Hot Springs Hotel, 18 Somerville Road, Okoroire 3485

(12 miles)

[ http://www.okohotel.co.nz ]

Restaurant on-site, and hot springs nearby.

How to go on a bike trip: The very short version

Get a bike. Ride it around the block. If anything hurts, take it to a local bike nerd and ask them to make it stop hurting.

Ride a mile away, then a mile back. If anything hurts, repeat the above step. Keep repeating it until nothing hurts. (Sore is okay. Hurts is bad.)

Go to the bike touring section of Wikiloc and pick a route that’s close to your home. There’s a smartphone app you can use to follow the route, and if you’ve got a GPS, you can load the route onto it.

Don’t let your physical shape hold you back. You will get in shape as you go! Stay within these guidelines when you’re starting out, and you’ll be fine:

  • An elevation change of 1000 feet in less than three miles is the border between ridable and not ridable.
  • Budget for about 30 miles a day. So, if you end up riding 45 miles for two days, your budget will let you hang around town and be a tourist on the third day. (Ignore all those people who talk about 50, 70, 100 mile days. The key word here is “budget”!)
  • On flat ground, count on about nine miles per hour. (This factors in all kinds of possible degradations – wind, potholes, rest breaks, photo stops.)
  • If you’re riding “fully loaded”, i.e. with camping supplies, and there’s two of you, budget for about 50 bucks a day per person. (That figure is for journeys in the western states of the US though, and will be different elsewhere.) With that budget you can afford to feed yourselves well, stay in the occasional hotel, and indulge in some touristy things, like museum tours and ferry rides.

Take a picture of something along the way, and post it online, with the comment, “SAW THIS ON MY BIKE RIDE!” That will get the conversation going.

Congratulations!

Signs you’ve been working too hard (and should go on a bike ride!)

  1. You think a “half-day” means leaving at 5 o’clock.
  2. Anything under an hour each way is not a “real” commute.
  3. You hear most of your jokes via email instead of in person.
  4. Your pets sometimes don’t recognize you.
  5. Your reason for not staying in touch with family is that they do not have e-mail addresses.
  6. You refer to your dining room table as the flat filing cabinet.
  7. Your grocery list has been on your refrigerator so long some of the products don’t even exist any more.
  8. Cleaning up the dining area means getting the fast food bags out of the back seat of your car.
  9. You keep trying to open your front door with the key to the office.
  10. You often eat out of vending machines and at the most expensive restaurant in town within the same week.

(This semi-serious list is from the Internet Bubble years, and the heady workaholic times that led up to them.)

Colorado to New York, one year later

Erika asked me recently:

I am interested to know how you feel now, about everything you were riding toward and away from last fall.  How did the ride change you, what are your thoughts about the entire adventure now, what have been the long-term effects of the trip, and where are you in your life now?  Also – would you do it again?

It’s hard to know where to start in describing this…  I’ve been sitting here for almost 20 minutes trying to find an angle on it, and utterly failed.  So instead I’m just diving in, saying whatever appears in my mind.

A long solo bike trip is a combination of exposure to strangers and the unknown, and long stretches of peaceful, private time.  I remember the trip as much for the books I “read” and the self-absorbed notes I took as for the things I saw and did.  New feelings and ideas came from everywhere.

It sits in my mind as a mountain range sits on a landscape, dividing my unhealthy, upset past from my more balanced, secure self.  I remember the turns of the pedals and the sweat and the vitamins and all the protein I tried to stuff into myself, and how my body seemed to change shape as the days passed, and how surprised I was that such a change could still happen … That I could, indeed heal.  That I could indeed burn off the constant stress and fear and misery, that I could actually come to terms with leaving a job that I had staked all my pride in, not by feeling content with the outcome, but by wringing the feelings out of me, leaving them on the road, expelling them in each breath.  By outrunning them, and by staking a new identity in a fresh terrain, with a reclaimed store of energy.

When I arrived in New York I was an almost completely recycled person, seething inside the same skin.

There was still a big problem though: I didn’t have a plan.  I finally had a handle on my health, and an idea about where I wanted my career to go, but the sense of clarity that I’d been hoping for in my romantic and emotional life just hadn’t materialized. With so much experience already behind me, what would catch my interest now?

The trip also beat some perspective into me about ambition.  My ambition to be a good contributor to the world and to society and community was not, I realized, a typically male motivation in a career.  I was not interested in power or rank, not particularly interested in high pay or prestige or appearing authoritative.  I also realized that my mode of interacting with people was not typically male either – it spread further across the spectrum.  I was interested in cooperation, rapport, empathy, egalitarianism, reassurance.  When I combined that with my very strong history of nuts-and-bolts software engineering, it led directly to a key phrase that popped into my head somewhere around Indiana that made everything clear:  “I like helping scientists.”

As an aside, it also laid the foundation for another realization that happened post-trip, that was so novel I was shocked that I hadn’t realized it before:  Just about every woman I’ve seriously dated or fallen in love with or even had a short fling with, has had a strong bisexual side.  I could go right down my dating history from beginning to end, and whenever there was mutual attraction, it was with a woman with some bisexual traits, whether it be a sexual history with women, or an assertive masculinity to her personality.  I finally had a pattern to work with that wasn’t based on something so arbitrary as hair color or ethnicity or height. That knowledge enhanced my sense of peace with who I am.

Even now, a year after the trip and all those long thoughtful days, I can still pull fresh ideas from the experience. I also make regular use of the equipment I had to purchase; for example I wore my rain gear three times this week – pants, jacket, and hood – and stayed warm and dry for my daily office commute. Ripples from the event seem to echo perpetually across my life. Sometimes just being out and about on the recumbent will naturally lead back to the trip.

For example I was out earlier today cycling between the UPS store and the office, and I stopped at a red light, and a tall black man with a graying beard, carrying a bag of groceries, ambled over to me from his spot on the crosswalk and gave me a fist-bump, and said, “Nice wheels, man! Where you riding to?”

“This is just how I get to work, nowadays,” I said. “But I did ride it across the country once!”

“Whoah!” he said, and laughed. “Hell yeah, now that is some serious riding!”

Then the light turned green, and we each took off.

Around town, I’m probably known more for the recumbent than for my face. That was true all across the country, and it remains stubbornly true at home. There is an endless supply of people who have never seen a recumbent before. Thankfully their approach is very civil – they don’t see me as some kind of space alien, like people in Missouri did. … And I still remember being stopped by a cop in the middle of an empty Kansas highway just because I was an anomaly and he wanted to – I quote – “make sure I was okay.”

In fact, cycling around Oakland is comfortable in general, and I don’t think I really appreciated that until I rode through a lot of other urban centers. Oakland is very supportive of cycling, and is spending good money to untangle the bike lanes and signals and curbs and increase awareness. Motorists are very forgiving and observant of cyclists, racks are plentiful, and even the school crossing guards will blow their whistles and halt traffic for you if they happen to be around. I recently realized how accustomed I was to this environment when I went on a date with a woman who lived in Santa Cruz.

We were on our bikes, coasting down Piedmont Avenue out of the Mountain View Cemetery, and she said to me, “You know, you just did a bad thing back there.”

“Oh?” I said, stopping at the bottom of hill next to her.

“Yeah, you rolled through that 3-way intersection, right in front of a cop. He looked straight at you. So don’t be surprised if he comes zooming up behind us.”

I stared at her, blankly, for a long moment.

“Ah,” she said, “Right. I forgot, this isn’t Santa Cruz, this is Oakland.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Cops in Oakland have actual things to do.”

A year after the long ride, I’m still fighting the urge to think like a lazy urbanite, and that bothers me. It’s only three miles round-trip to visit the post office, three miles round-trip to the grocery store, four miles to either of the Farmer’s Markets, four miles to work and back. Less than half a mile to eight different restaurants. Even if I hit all those places in one day, it would still be less than a quarter of the typical mileage I covered each day crossing the country. When will I really get the clue? So it’s raining; so what? That’s an extra 15 minutes of prep time, tops, and I never have to worry about the parking lot being full. So it’s blazing hot; so what? Put on shorts and a bandana; stick some iced-tea in the cup holder; off you go. You’ll arrive refreshed and ready.

I’m astounded sometimes when I think about how I owned a bike for almost 15 years and saw it mostly as a toy.

Now it’s also a serious implement, an essential part of my health, a cost-saving device, a wellspring of stories and conversations and community involvement, and the best choice – unequivocally the best – for exploring new parts of the civilized world. If there’s one thing the cross-country trip convinced me of, it’s that.

So. Would I do it again?

Yes; hell yes.  I would leave tomorrow if I had the chance.  All the gear I need is here, arranged around me in the living room as I write this.  It would take me less than a day to tune up the bicycle and load it for bear, and then I could throw together a plan to feed the cat, lock the door, put my foot on the pedal at the edge of the sidewalk, and be gone.

Perhaps I’d ride north, then pull a gigantic S-curve across the entire USA, ending up in Boston or Maryland, and by the time I got there I’d have a berth on a container ship reserved, or my carrier box shipped out so I could stuff the bike inside.  Then perhaps I’d keep going. I would arrive in Spain in late winter, then do another S-curve through Europe, ending up at the edge of Italy in the fall, where a ferryboat can bear me across to the east edge of the Mediterranean, and Turkey.  From there … Russia, China … who knows?

But that’s probably not the way it will happen, if it does happen, because of the lesson I learned on this last trip:  I can only be rootless for so long.  It’s most likely that after reaching the Atlantic, I’d actually be impatient to get home, and work and build and write and hang out with friends.  Then perhaps I’d consider picking up the trip where I left off.

And that also connects with my immediate situation:  If I can leave tomorrow – quit my job and housing search, and take off – then why don’t I do just that?  What’s stopping me?

Essentially, a feeling that what I need next, what I’m looking for, is not out there over the horizon, but is closer at hand.  It’s here, somewhere.  In this architecture, on these streets, in the market stalls, in the minds of the people I talk to at work, and at restaurants and concerts and rallies.  It’s here, I’m almost totally certain.  And I’m just as certain that something isn’t quite aligned correctly in my everyday life for me to pick up the scent of it.  That’s where I’m at in the day-to-day, now.  Something is not quite adjusted right, but I’m narrowing it down, checking old items off the to-do list, tweaking the sails to catch a new angle in the wind and bring it to my face.  What is it!  What is this thing!!!

Let’s find out.