A friend is very much looking forward to being in once place this winter, settling down and falling into a routine. He’s grown tired of living out of his car, buying food only for that day, sleeping on the floors of friends’ homes.
Can’t say I relate. On the go since January and I don’t want to stop.
You see, there’s nothing quite as satisfying as going somewhere. Have you ever experienced 70 miles an hour on some stunning NorthWest highway, car filled with everything needed to survive? The satisfaction of knowing that any of these forest-service roads can be home for the night?
Wandering is an addiction.
Only necessity has convinced me to tie myself down this winter in Sandpoint, Idaho. Six month lease mid-November through Early April steady employment what? That’s quite a commitment, and if it wasn’t for the issue of funds, I’d be going still.
Permanency, for any period of time, poses a threat. This blog and life have for the past two years been based on travel. The constant go, excitement of new locations and meeting new people. What adventures can be generated by staying in once place? How can I be inspired without my regular endorphin-releasing dose of travel?
Or maybe, more worrisome, are the temptations a routine will bring. The comfort zone of a steady job will begin to encroach on memories of tip money in pocket, three days off and someone new and beautiful to enjoy it with. I fear getting used to having a full kitchen at my disposal and a place to put things I have never needed before. Having a roof and steady work will start to seem more inviting than coming back from yet another unpaid day on the river to find my tent swamped out.
Permanency is an addiction.
Don’t you loose that desire, my friend Surge tells me. He says he sees in the faces of his friends the great wanderlust diminish. Don’t you stay and get it too.
I don’t dare.