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With nearly 10, miles driven so far this winter and one flight to the other side of the world, the interpersonal complications of travel seem to be setting in. On one hand, this is the freest time of my life, that I am lucky to have and completely grateful for. I have no commitments, no weight, no plans although loads of baggage.
Because of this unrestricted lifestyle, I get the goods as much as possible. I have skied most of the epic days of the season in Utah, I got face shots galore in Japan, I have rushed to Jackson at the mention of precipitation, I have hauled ass to Canada for heli time, I slashed blower pow in Aspen and I even drove all night to catch the one storm of the season in Tahoe, just to drive all night back to Utah 3 days later to ski what may be the best day I have ever had.
For all intensive purposes, I am winning. Killing it really. Healthy, carefree and storm chasing. This is what it is all about right? Dream catching to say the least…. Then there is the other side, the lonely side of travel. I had scarce slept in the same bed for more than 2 nights and I had begun a morning routine of spending about 30 seconds trying to figure out where the hell I was.
Comfortable as it may be to essentially live out of your Subaru, as dirty rumpled bits of my life fall out of my car on to some random slushy street, I begin to feel homeless. A lonely wanderer only passing though… I miss my bed, my friends, my cat, my community. I miss routine and the familiar comfort of home. As much as I travel, and as much as I stay in certain places, I do begin to feel at home away from home.