I am in Kathmandu, Nepal. It is small feeling place, only a few backpacker streets. However, ever street is lined with backpack or trekking gear. I am in the Thamil area of Kathmandu; I hope I spelled Thamil correct, although not important.
I am here to chase windmills as my friend Gary said, - You are starting to be like Don Quijote with this backpacker thing. -
He did not explain, left me hanging on the Don Quijote comment, I think maybe it is the fight that arises between idealism and realism. I am striving to make the ideal travel backpack. I live though in the real world and every time I make the next backpack it is real, not my ideal.
Reality versus my dream.
I dream of an ideal world however presently it will be the form of the perfect house for me. My backpack is my home, my companion, my constant annoying love that leaves the lid off the toothpaste. It has little problems, and because we spend 24/7 together, these little idiosyncrasies start to drive a wedge between our relationships. When I get the next new prototype of a backpack it makes me feel refreshed, then I become familiar and soon take it for granted. Start to pick at all the small problems and they annoy me, I want to give it a throw.
I carry two backpacks, a front and a back, presently they are the same size, and design, interchangeable and this is good. 85 percent ideal
I have been walking around the last month with an 85 percent idea set of backpacks. I am going to make two more, and try to raise the bar to 95 percent. I will carry the two backpack into Africa for a couple of months, hopefully return and take this to 98 percent of my ideal. I do not think 100 percent is possible, I will continue to complain. I am glad I do not complain about my computer the same.
The street of Kathmandu are lined with person thinking only about travel gear, the best place I have found to dwell on travel gear.