YEARN TO CHUCK IT ALL AND TRAVEL? READ ON.

Byline: John Flinn San Francisco Examiner 

Ten years ago this June, my wife Jeri and I shouldered our backpacks, presented our tickets at the Pan Am counter at San Francisco International Airport and set off to circle the planet.

For seven glorious months, we bicycled along Scottish lochs, bathed in Norwegian fiords, people-watched in Parisian cafes, climbed the Alps, got broken by the bank at Monte Carlo, consulted with East African hippos, danced the hokey pokey with Sherpas, swam with manta rays at the Great Barrier Reef and tramped across the Southern Alps of New Zealand.

We ate raclette and gelato and haggis and reindeer and zebra and water buffalo. We imbibed Pimms cocktails while punting down the River Cam, sipped Cote de Nuits with stubbly chinned French winemakers and drained endless rounds of Tooheys with ruddy-faced, back-slapping Aussies.

Early on, our journey ceased being a vacation and became, simply, our life. The hassles and stresses of work receded until we forgot them completely; for months on end we looked forward only to the next country, the next continent, the next adventure. It was the trip of a lifetime - or would have been, except that we did it all again four years later.

Whenever I tell someone about these wonderful interludes in our life, they get a wistful, faraway expression, lower their eyes and mutter, almost apologetically, ``I sure wish I could do that.'' My too-glib answer is that there is only one person stopping you, and you ought to have a long talk with that person the next time you look in the bathroom mirror.

If you've been dreaming of embarking on such a life-transforming journey, a new paperback book might help you take your fantasies off the shelf and transform them into reality. ``Six Months Off'' by Hope Dlogozima, James Scott and David Sharp (Henry Holt and Co., $12.95) is a witty, inspiring, step-by-step guide to making your vagabond dreams come true.

The book doesn't deal with traveling so much as it sets forth the strategy and tactics for engineering a big chunk of time off work. Perhaps most valuably, it provides help for overcoming the self-doubt that all too often can derail your great escape before you even broach it to your boss. Take it from me: Once you get past this barrier, the traveling part is easy.

I recently talked about this with co-author Scott, who until recently was an editor at Health magazine.

``People think the biggest stumbling block is the time and money,'' he said. ``But it's not. The biggest block is fear. People told us they put off doing it for years and years and years, because they were afraid.''

In researching the book, the authors talked to more than 200 people who'd gotten past this fear, from a submarine navigator to a financial analyst.

According to Scott, more and more companies are awakening to the idea that giving workers an interlude in their careers is good for the bottom line. An organization called the Conference Board reports that one-third of all U.S. companies are planning to offer some sort of sabbatical in the next four years.

Ironically, corporate downsizing may actually work to your advantage. If you ask for six months off without pay, your boss may actually kiss you.

On the other hand, your boss may be dead set against the idea. One way or the other, this conversation is probably the crux of the whole affair. ``Six Months Off'' lays out a detailed plan for assembling your case, and offers comebacks for any objection your boss is likely to have.

The most important thing is not to let your big ``buts'' get in the way. For example, big ``but'' No. 1: ``But I can't afford it.'' It obviously costs money to travel, but not nearly as much as you think. By selling your car, you can travel for months in Asia or parts of South America. Or, better yet, don't buy that Lexus in the first place; drive a beater and put the money into your escape fund.

Another one: ``But I always lose my nerve at the last minute.'' The book lays out a simple gambit I've used with great success: Shoot off your mouth about your trip to all your friends. Once they've given you your bon voyage party, you'll feel like a real twink if you wimp out.

One last one: ``But it will hurt my career.'' I can offer only the words of the late Malcolm Forbes: ``No one ever dies wishing they'd spent more time at the office.''