Bumble in Mongolia
Biking to Japan Week #41
Since Last Time
I downloaded Bumble. Not cause I expect to meet my wife in the next month. But maybe. Mostly it’s because I am bored and cold and stuck in the middle of Mongolia. Browsing is fun. Everyone reaches for something when they’re cold and bored and stuck somewhere. Mine just happens to be Bumble in Mongolia.
It is not the first time I have been on Bumble, but maybe it’s the last.
The Tweet That Broke My Brain Yesterday
For me, the part that seems true is the idea of chasing a dopamine hit without earning anything.
I read it while swiping in my Ulaanbaatar hotel room. A man who biked across Afghanistan and Africa reduced to hours of thumb flicking. My brain can do Taliban checkpoints but not dating app convos.
For me, porn and masturbation killed motivation in my twenties. Cutting them out helped, but I wonder how much time I wasted without noticing. And I wonder where I’d be today if things had been different. I think lots of guys feel this way even if we never say it out loud.
What happens is you trick the mechanism that is supposed to pull you forward. It is like failing to climb the mountain but giving yourself the summit photo anyway.
Now it’s Bumble doing the same thing. And no wonder writing has felt like shoveling wet snow.
Route Recap
Start: Lisbon, Portugal
End: Tokyo, Japan
Total Distance: ~11,000 miles (16,000 kilometers)
Key gear: patch kit, tent, cigs
Key stops so far: Portugal, Spain, France, Italy, Albania, North Macedonia, Greece, Turkey, Iran, Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Afghanistan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan, Russia, Mongolia
Key stops coming up: ???
Least Favorite Moment
I coordinated a date on Bumble and got stood up. Apparently you are supposed to maintain a slow drip of WhatsApp messages before the date so the girl knows it’s still happening. I did not know this rule.
The truth is I am awkward and dating has always made me nervous. I never know the right pace or signals. I can bike through war zones but a twenty five year old girl at a Mongolian techno show can scramble my brain.
I deleted the app the next morning.
Reflection
My problem now is not tugging or porn or a lack of interested women. If you saw my DMs you would know. Weird autism works.
My biggest problem is leaking energy in a thousand lil ways. Apps. Flirting. Tiny dopamine hits. All of it pulls attention away from the bigger goal to rip across seven continents. Build something big.
I’m not against sex. I just notice that when things come to easy, I stop going after the things that actually matter. There is power in staying hungry for your goal and only letting yourself eat when you earn it.
Traveler Tip of the Week
When I look back on the best times of my life, it’s never laying down with a beautiful woman. It is doing hard shit with the boys and feeling alive after. Probably not a universal rule, just the one I keep relearning. So my tip is to do more of that. And less swiping.
Progress on the Map
Distance Ridden Since Last Time: 0 miles (0 km)
Total Distance Ridden: 9,593 miles (15,438 km)
The Chinese consul worker finally showed me sympathy. Showing up 3 times per week and being polite helped. My Mongolia visa expires Jan 13. She said she will try to get me the Chinese visa before then. Her hands are tied since the issue is with China. But she’ll do what she can.
What’s Next
This journey only works if I stay hungry. Not thirsty. The gobi desert in January is looking real. And it is going to take more preps.
A Note About My Uncle
My uncle Jack passed last week. He lived the kind of life people pretend they will live someday. He hunted, set ski records, backpacked, skydived, scubadove, sheared sheep, judged bird dogs, wrote for a living, and traveled the world. He made a life out of saying yes to the hard and scary things. He was the first person who coached me to be a creator. He always had my back.
His obituary said he grew up knowing neither envy nor fear and pursued life with unquenchable curiosity and optimism. He was grateful for the battles he fought, for the friends he made, and for the woman he loved.
Sitting here in Mongolia, I keep thinking about him. How he chose real difficulty over cheap reward. I want to move closer to that.
Have a lovely week,
Ian
What you’re calling “weird autism” is better described as authenticity through vulnerable and truthful storytelling, self deprecating humour and an unabashed commitment to both your interests and sharing them with the world 😉
The most personal growth I experienced was in prison, the most I’ve ever strived was when I was hungry, so yes. I hear you in the ways that we diminish our own drive with reality’s version of cheat codes, jumping us to the prize, the rush, the win, the match, the hook up.
And. And. You may be more like your uncle than you’re giving yourself credit for, lamenting an hour’s worth of distraction while on a harder journey than 99% of your countrymen will ever subject themselves to.
The existence of room to improve isn’t mutually incompatible with your uncle’s sort of disciplined joie de vivre.
But I lament my own life wasting, too, though outsiders disagree. Tis all relative.