My life was almost over in a New Orleans Airbnb
The night before, I had nine people over, and we were all drinking and doing drugs
I remember vividly feeling detached from reality and knowing that if I kept taking drugs, I could die. I opened a drawer where all the drugs were and thought, “f**k it. If I die, I die.” That was the level of self-destruction I was at.
I woke up the next morning feeling like something was deeply wrong. I couldn't shake it. My heart was racing. I was Googling heart attack symptoms. The anxiety grew until I called 911.
They hooked me up to an IV and ran tests. The doctor came in and said, "Nothing's wrong with your heart. Just don't push yourself so hard next time, man."
Not great advice. But it was what I needed to snap out of the cycle and realize no one was coming to save me. There wasn't going to be some magical social worker referral to save my life.
That was almost 5 years ago. I'm still sober.
I went back to New York City a couple of days later and enrolled in an outpatient rehab program for the next 100 days.
Rehab taught me that the foundation of sobriety is Replacement: swapping out destructive behaviors for something beneficial. Put simply, you need to scratch the itch with something that won’t kill you. Replacement is crucial because you can't rely on willpower, as willpower will almost always fail. Our brains aren't designed to resist temptation, so you have to find something better.
My search for better things led me to become a full-time nomad. I traveled to the Lost City in Colombia, hiked volcanoes in Mexico and Bali, and sailed around the Komodo Islands.
I realized how much wonder there is in the world that people never experience. That cycle of travel, adventure, movement, and disconnecting from modern artificial life is what kept me sober by enriching my life. It was (and still is) my replacement.
Then I went on two group trips that were completely ruined by substances.
The first was a 14-day safari through Namibia and Botswana. One guy was horribly relapsing on alcohol the entire time. It was triggering and uncomfortable. This was supposed to be an amazing safari with lions and zebras, and instead, I was helplessly watching someone ruin their life in front of me.
The second trip was a hike through the mountains of Georgia. The first night at high altitude, people drank heavily. The guide was drinking and tried to force his way into a woman's room. She got him out, but it caused a blow-up, threats, and almost a fight.
I woke up thinking, what is happening with group trips?
I quit my $300k tech sales job. Capsule Adventures was born.
What if I did this better in a sober environment so people like me can feel comfortable?
That is the essence of Capsule Adventures. Taking people out of routines and limiting beliefs and bringing them somewhere incredible and saying, “Look at how amazing our brief lives on this planet can be!”
The places and itineraries matter. Every trip is badass. But the people matter most. You're more energized, having deeper conversations faster, diving fully into hikes, swims, snorkeling, etc. You're present. Things are fun because they're actually fun.
I create each itinerary based on my years traveling to 40+ countries. We've been to Machu Picchu, Bali, Vietnam, Patagonia, and South Africa. In 2026, we're heading to Machu Picchu, Bali + Komodo Islands, Zion + Moab, and Nepal.
But it's not just sober people who benefit. Removing alcohol and drugs from travel strips everything back to realness. We spend our lives on Instagram, ChatGPT, corporate speak, and code switching. We rarely disconnect and reconnect with natural wonder.
If you drink or do drugs while traveling, it's the same shit you can do anywhere else. It handicaps the experience.
I don't care if you drink or use drugs in daily life. If you’re willing to commit to a substance-free trip, I guarantee that you will have an incredible experience. One that you will remember forever.
—Ryan
