On my previous post I discussed how bicycle touring and moving out of my apartment showed me that owning unnecessary things was a waste of my time. Without wanting to sound too dramatic, I realized that what I owned enslaved me. My things not only demanded attention, but also care and responsibility. Possessions restricted how long or carefree I could travel.

While bicycle touring, possessions physically bind me. Every extra kilogram has a significant effect on my ability to climb hills and ride faster. Gravity is unforgiving. There is a reason why professional bikers spend exorbitant amounts of money minimizing their and their equipment’s weight. And while touring is not racing, I find few things more frustrating than having to stop mid-climb from being too tired to push barely-used items uphill.

Gravity is no the only enemy. An often overlooked aspect of over-packing is the need for more and/or bigger containers. These containers (panniers, fenders, saddlebags etc.) not only weigh more, but they substantially increase air resistance. So now you are fighting the wind, alongside gravity. Any experienced biker will confirm that strong gusts are often more fierce an enemy than a tough climb. As discussed previously, bigger containers also require more organization — and we know already how horribly that can go.

But you will not be alone in your struggle against excess luggage. Your bike will also take a toll if you take too much: remember she is the one holding your cargo, you are simply pushing it around. The more weight you carry the greater the chance something will fail. You’ll break a spoke, untrue a rim, destroy your rack, all of the above or some other unimagined mechanical failure. A cyclist I met once on told me that you are more likely to use your repair tools if you take them with you. I don’t fully agree with his philosophy— and I definitely do not advocate ultra-light touring if you plan long self-sustained tours—but I try to minimize the amount of containers and weight I take to something I can easily carry in a backpack.

While equipment is sold as a way of making traveling efficient and convenient, taking too many gadgets increases the likelihood of breaking your bike, and hence not traveling at all.

I recently learned that urban life is no different. A few weeks ago, I got an opportunity to teach a summer program in China before starting my Master’s in London this fall. I was excited and wanted to leave home as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, as soon as possible was going to take a while.

First, I had to talk to my landlord to end my lease (something I had fortunately done earlier for other reasons). This could have taken months, had I not been close to the lease’s end date.

Then, I had to find a way to get rid or store all my stuff. Knowing that I wasn’t going to come back to Chile soon, I opted to sell everything. I spent a whole week pushing stuff onto multiple web platforms, taking calls, moving furniture, and closing deals. Other than a few very fun negotiations (like trying to get someone in Punta Arenas to buy a vintage Yamaha organ), I was miserably bored. Getting rid of things took a lot more time and effort than I thought.

Often people tell me they would like to travel more. I find most people are more than willing to leave their jobs, but few are willing to leave their things. They are stuck with their possessions. They’ve invested their time and effort into getting these things, they feel that they must keep them, they can’t betray them. Possessions give them the illusion that they have settled. Life is monotonous but comfortable, and must be kept that way.

With their panniers full of stuff, they look at the beautiful big climb ahead and try to move forward. Realizing that they can’t advance, they believe they are not strong enough to make the climb. They mistakenly give up before even thinking of lightening their load.