Article Written By Michael J. Hacker II

I must start by saying, or rather asking, when has travel become so easy, mundane and safe? Half the fun of traveling should be getting there, hence the name, Travel.
All the adventure is lost when we begin flying 500 miles an hour to an all-inclusive resort.
I for one am against this. Albeit, my past road trips cross-country zigzagging state-to-state camping along the way can surely prove this.
Yet here I am, finding myself doing exactly what I loathe. Jumping aboard a 737 heading south from the east coast, for warmth, transfers, meals and activities.
I feel in the simplest form that I am cheating myself. All these undiscovered miles, coastlines, oceans, rivers, and rainforests. All of which will never meet these eyes. At least not this time.
The days of the Wright Brothers and Howard Hughes brought excitement to the prospect of aviation. The glory days of flying are over and we are thrown aboard our own ?spruce gooses? to bask in the sun of Costa Rica, an eco-tourists dream.
Somewhere between the egg and cheese croissant I cannot eat and my black tea, we realize there has to be something better. That part of life is making the journey. I look around the tin can and see the same thing on all the monotonous faces. Discomfort and anxiety, which could very well be due to the fact that it is entirely way to early to drink. Either way, we all just want to ?indulge ourselves? (to use this term loosely) in a culture, in the shortest amount of time, without leaving the comforts of home behind.
We come by the boatloads, planeloads and caravans of tour buses and SUVS.
What are we accomplishing by this pointless travel?
What do we learn?
It defeats the purpose. Especially on a trip to a national park, or a naturally beautiful place. It just doesn't seem right.
The world is our playground for 6 billion plus people.
When is enough, enough? And when will I get to my resort to shower and eat my all-inclusive meals?