When graduate student Robert Thompson finished his undergraduate career with a bachelor degree in physics from Virginia Tech in 1998, he didn't want to follow the typical path of jumping into a career or going straight to grad school.
Thompson's plan for the next two years of his life was simple: explore.
Before and since coming to Tufts, Thompson has traveled the world in search of danger and adventure. In that time, he had close encounters with bears, met all manner of interesting people, hiked through some of the most remote parts of the world and visited four continents.
Sitting in the Tufts Loj in rural New Hampshire, Thompson seems to belong, though he would rather be even further out in the woods. With short dark hair and a medium build, Thompson is wearing a blue half-zip winter cycling jersey, nylon backpacker pants and baby blue socks plastered with giant smiley faces. His expression mirrors his socks.
"I'm not really from anywhere," Thompson said of his background. The son of a military officer, he spent his youth in Maryland, Louisiana, Alaska and Virginia, and speaks without any trace of a regional accent. "I think I had an advantage in the way I grew up," he said.
Thompson said that his upbringing provided him with a wealth of travel experience. He had three other siblings, and the entire family always traveled by car, so he has been taking road trips since he was a child. Thompson estimated that he's driven coast-to-coast 12 or 13 times, always camping along the way.
One trip in particular stands out for Thompson. When he was 10 years old, his father was transferred from New Orleans to Alaska, and in the course of moving, the family took a three-month drive around North America.
On this trip, Thompson was treated to views of the Rocky Mountains, Niagara Falls and everything in between. At an early age, he had seen more of the United States and Canada than many people see in their lifetimes.
"All the rest of the stuff I've done was an extension of that," Thompson said.
After graduating from college, Thompson spent his first summer in Alaska, a place that had enchanted him since his three-year residence there. To earn money for his travels, Thompson worked 16-hour days in a fish processing plant, packing frozen fish into boxes for shipment.
During this time, he lived in a tent in the woods outside of town, commuting on a bicycle that he had found. For protection against grizzly bears, he borrowed a long-barreled .45 revolver from his boss, but never had to use it in spite of several close encounters.
At the end of the summer, Thompson hitchhiked north to the head of the Chilkoot Trail, a long-defunct mining route from the days of the Yukon gold rush. The summer hiking season had passed, Thompson was the only person for miles around and it was the salmon spawning season, which filled the rivers with dying fish and brought bear activity to a frenzied maximum.
Thompson hiked for about a week. In addition to several close encounters with grizzlies, he also got lost in a mountain pass because of poor visibility, and was nearly crushed to death by a rolling boulder.
That fall, he hitchhiked from Alaska to San Diego, from where he flew to New Zealand.
"I would just hit the trail for a week, 10 days, whatever," Thompson said of his time in New Zealand. He would then hitchhike to the next trail head, get supplies, and start hiking again.
Thompson said that, while he was in New Zealand, he first encountered Europe's unique backpacking and traveler culture, which he greatly admires.
"In Europe, not so much in the U.S., there's a group of young people that just travel," he said. "I think that's really cool."
After several weeks in New Zealand, Thompson flew to Sydney, Australia, where he bought a car. Sensing that most people were traveling to the Great Barrier Reef on Australia's northeast coast, he drove southwest to Perth. This drive brought him through parts of the outback where gas stations were limited to one every 200 miles, but he eventually arrived on the continent's West coast.
While he was there, Thompson snorkeled the Ningaloo Reef system, witnessing the hatching of baby sea turtles. He then drove north to Darwin as the Australian rainy season set in.
His car was nearly swept away by water on the roads, and he drove through downpours with the windows open so he could jump out of the vehicle if a flash flood occurred. In spite of the danger, Thompson downplayed the experience. "It wasn't that big of a deal," he said.
He eventually drove back to Sydney, sold the car, and left Australia for Thailand, where he spent his time "living in a hut on the beach," he said. But, never one to remain in the same place for too long, Thompson soon left for India to meet a friend. Once there, Thompson steered clear of India's cities to trek the Himalaya Mountains instead.
By the time he finished, it was the end of May, and Thompson received a message from a friend suggesting they meet in Pamplona, Spain for the running of the bulls. Thompson then traveled to Copenhagen, hitchhiked to Pamplona, and found a comfortable park to sleep in.
He slept in a sleeping bag on the bare ground with his arms looped through the straps of his backpack. Over the night, someone used a knife - six inches from his neck - to cut the straps and steal the pack, which Thompson described as "kind of unnerving." He managed to recover most of his equipment, however, and ended up celebrating the festival of San Ferm?n by running in front of several bulls from their holding pen to the bullfight arena.
"It wasn't like I was on a trip or a holiday," Thompson said. "When I was out traveling I had no idea where I was going next. I had no ticket home."
Spontaneity is something Thompson values.
"I don't usually go for planning all that much," he said. "Usually I just like to wing it ... When you get into a routine, it's easy to let the day go by. But out there every day was so full of new experiences. It was packed with life."
Though he will receive his Ph.D. in physics this June, Thompson alternates his time at Tufts between schooling and the outdoors.
One summer, he rode his bike from Portland, Maine to Detroit, Mich. averaging between 80 and 100 miles a day. This September, Thompson canoed 100 miles down the Allagash River in Maine.
In another trip, he returned to Alaska, determined to hike in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge on the state's north slope before "George Bush turns it into a parking lot," he said.
Most recently, Thompson decided to take part in Tufts Mountain Club's "Peak Weekend," in which Tufts students collectively try to summit every 4,000-foot peak in New England. But, always ready for a challenge, Thompson decided to "take it a step further."
He and three friends set out to summit every 5,000-foot peak that weekend, which entailed a total hike of about 50 miles in three days, most of it on exposed ridges in areas known for their extreme bad weather.
In spite of a good start, one of Thompson's companions fell and injured his head, forcing Thompson to carry his friend's pack up the 6,000-foot Mt. Washington, in addition to his own supplies. Thompson and his two remaining friends pushed on, covering about 40 miles of the total distance, until a wrong turn, a knee injury and lack of time forced them to abandon their goal.
They had to hitchhike around New Hampshire for several hours to get back to their car, but Thompson remains undaunted by the experience, saying he would do it again - though he would "go for fewer injuries," he said.
So what's next? Thompson isn't slowing down. After coming in second on his first triathlon, Thompson wants to try another, and is also considering biking from Europe to Mongolia and then riding horse back along the ancient Silk road. After graduating from Tufts, he plans to row the entire length of the Yukon River, a distance of 2,300 miles.
For all students looking to have adventures of their own, Thompson said he has simple advice.
"Bring a tent," he said. "Then you can sleep anywhere."
He also stressed the importance of taking individual initiative.
"You've got to do it alone," he said. "You can't just wait around for people to take three months off to do this stuff with you. If I did that I wouldn't have been able to do half of this."
Though many people look at Thompson with no small amount of wonder, he doesn't consider himself remarkable: he just likes to be outdoors.
"I'm an unemployed brain surgeon," he said, "But then, who isn't these days?"
