So I'm a rock climber. It's a great sport and I have a great love for it. As a climber, we have various terms and words that, while mostly for climbing, can be applied to other things. One such example is what we call the "Fun Scale." It's fairly simple and has only three types.
Type 1 is fun while you're doing whatever it is that you're doing, as well as talking about it afterwards. A trip to Disneyland is a good real world example of this because you know exactly what you're getting into. You know you're going to see the castle. You're going to ride the Tea Cups. Goofy and Mickey will be there. Gravy.
Type 2 fun is actually not fun at all. It's probably mostly uncomfortable, however at some point in the future you can look back and say that you had a good time. It's like doing one of those obstacle races. You get muddy. Your lungs hurt and your legs ache. Depending on the twisted minds of the race promoters, you may get electrocuted, jump through fire or swim though an ice bath. All in all though, when you're at the bar afterwards, peer pressure and alcohol team up to tell you that, "That wasn't all bad. You had a good time. You should do it again."
Then there's Type 3 fun. Well...that's an absolute sufferfest. Whatever "fun" you thought you were going to have has now become the most difficult thing you've ever had to go through. You don't have Type 3 fun. You endure it. You agonize through it. Maybe years down the road the mind will forget and the scars will fade and trying it again may reenter the realm of possibilities.
This trip so far has mostly been Type 2. Starting out, I drove through 3 separate squall lines of torrential rain to meet with TJ in Chattanooga. From there, we shivered our way down to Baton Rouge and San Antonio with back to back 8 hour days in the saddle. Then we got rain and border run arounds. A brief glimpse of Type 1 Fun teased us in Hidalgo and Tampico, but then we had two 10 plus hour days of rain, roads from hell, traffic, broken bikes, heat, humidity, etc. Pulling into Veracruz, we were at a serious low point. Sitting in traffic wondering if it would be worse to wear out the starter on the bike by turning it off and on as the cars inched forward or let it overheat, I just kept thinking about how much I just wanted to go home.
Today though has wiped that slate clean. The weather was perfect. The people were welcoming. The foods delicious and the roads - pristine. We both had to remind ourselves that this was the real world and not some fantastic dream. I'm so glad I'm on this journey. So bring on the fun.