Return from a Road Trip: Making Sense of Life 6 Months Later

I boarded the plane in Florida, headed back to a home which had I had all but forgotten. It's hard to imagine that a place you were once so enamored with could be dismissed over the course of a few months of travel, but that's what happened.

Makeshift kitchen in Squamish

During The Most Epic Trip, I had come to think of my car, my tent, the camping spot I was in, the rock faces I climbed, the roads and waterways- all of these as home. Indeed, the entire continent of North America was home. The mountains, the trees, the people- they were all fixtures in the great expanse of the continent I roamed about in. It was all home.

But then suddenly, it was time to return.

Week One: City of Rocks

It still makes me teary-eyed to reflect on this change from a few days ago. The trip didn't end the way we planned, which made it even harder. But the biggest difficulty I faced was going back to a place where I had once lived a completely different life and back into an apartment full of stuff. I was overwhelmed by the amount of things I had to unpack from a storage unit, and the disconnect I felt with the outdoors. No clean air sweeping over me as I slept. No birds waking me in the morning. No trees rustling with the wind. Just dead interior air. And stuff... everywhere.

Knife edge traverse in Rumney, NH

As I sat with my face pressed against the airplane window, I felt something completely different than I imagined I would feel at this moment of return. Instead of relief for being done with nearly six months of traveling, I felt a bit of trepidation and a giant dose of anxiety. What would being back in a city feel like? Would I be able to handle the noise, the cars, the fast pace? Would I be able to find a job? Could I afford to be back and pay for rent, utilities, internet? I was being rushed from simplicity into complication and it didn't feel right.

Time Out in Bellingham, WA

I still don't feel right. I would give anything to be back on the road. I blame it on my parents who trained us to take to the road at an early age. We visited the Smoky Mountains every Fall, drove to Maine and Virginia regularly, and traversed across the wide West whenever the opportunity arose. I carried that tradition into my early college years- taking off whenever I felt too confined and needed to break free of four walls. Anytime I could go further on the road, I took that opportunity. If continents were connected, I'd be long gone on the other side of Pangea.

Sunset in Smith Rock

I don't know yet what lessons I've learned yet from this trip. They will unveil themselves in time, I'm sure. I still don't fully know how this trip has changed me or my perspective, but I do know one thing: through the trying times, the triumphs, the getting lost, the finding beauty, meeting new friends and the rare stranger, I dreamed big, I lived bigger, and I loved it every moment of it.

Thank you all for your words of encouragement during this trip- for your interaction with us on Facebook, Twitter, our blog and here. I so very much appreciate you and whatever part you played in our experience during this trip- even if it was just a comment or thought. Stay tuned as my wheels won't be out of commission for long...

A song we listened to on the way to the Smokies as kids