I just finished moving everything I own. 3,000 miles of driving, alone, through the American West, from Colorado Springs to Seattle.
And I didn't take the direct route, but went out of my way to visit friends and my favorite places. There was no way I was driving through Colorado and not getting to Crested Butte, or driving through Utah and not going trail running in Moab. Some people might think that driving solo so far, through snow and rain and long hours, would be hard and maybe even not worth it. But it's like exercising - at a certain point, after a few hours, you lose sense of time and you're just in the drive. Hours go by and you don't notice. The miles ticking up on the odometer and the gas gauge going down - that's the only way to tell time is passing.
I've lived on the road, out of a backpack or car, for a total of two and a half years. Traveling is my default. In doubt? Travel. Happy? Travel. Sad? Travel. For me, the hardest part of traveling is not knowing when to stop. After a few months of living on the road, I'll start getting jealous of my friends with stable lives. I'll wish I had a home, a regular bed, a dog. I'll settle down somewhere. And after I've been settled for a few weeks or months, I start getting the urge to head out again on the next trip.
It's a crazy seesaw - I'm always pining after the next thing. Now I'm in Seattle, and I'm hoping to be here a while. Maybe I'll even sign a lease - which terrifies me! I won't stop seeing new things and going new places, but I want to adjust the scale of my adventures. Instead of driving across the country, or flying to another continent, I want to explore the Pacific Northwest. I want to start small. What can I find right here, near Seattle? In between rainstorms, you can see Mt. Rainier looming on the horizon. Maybe trying to summit is a good next goal...