I had decided to move out of my apartment, give away or store my belongings, buy camping gear and go travel by myself and live in a tent in National Parks around the country.
My first night was less than ideal. I was alone in wretched Nebraska, of all places, without another human being in sight (no shortage of bats, though).
When starting a trip like mine, it comes down to all of the details. What typically appears minuscule or even goes completely unnoticed, everything has an impact. I first noted the ramifications (and benefits) of solitude and silence. Peering over my shoulder every few minutes and the desire to play music to fill the void—the uncomfortable void that came with having to actually be present with my thoughts as they haphazardly scurried about my mind like the bats in the trees above. Also, the thought-provoking creativity; a fuel to write, to ponder, to contemplate life and philosophy.
The second unforeseen factor was the seemingly simple task of cooking myself dinner. After setting up my tent, constantly checking my surroundings in the eerie silence, I decided I’d cook some food. At that moment, I realized I had not yet opened my new propane-fueled two-burner camping stove. This had been the plan, you know, to make sure I knew how to use it.
I had never used anything propane in my life. Nor anything with propane. See, I can’t even form a fucking sentence about it.
Not discouraging myself too soon, I whipped it out with confidence (possibly thinking the commencement of my travel venture alone somehow qualified me as outdoorsy now).
After ten minutes of trying to assemble the only two parts in need of assembling, I pulled out the instructions. I might as well have used a lifeline to call Martha Stewart because the instructions were shit—sorry, Martha, I’m sure you could rally a propane stove in a pinch. To my knowledge the stove was assembled to completion, but I couldn’t get it to light for the life of me. Fuck it. Cold food it is. Off to a great start.
Only twelve more weeks!
My Mother had purchased me a beautiful travel journal with pages filled with a backdrop of faded maps and compasses. I started writing. The next thing I knew, I had pages upon pages of how I came to this spot, how I ended up 27, in Nebraska (again, not ideal), headed across the country for “three months.” A wonderful thing it was to write and not pause for a second to think about what I was putting on paper. It was new to me, along with the inability to backspace on a keyboard.
6/03/2015 Journal Entry
“I recently made a decision that would change the rest of my life. Okay, I should clarify… not life changing like getting married, having kids, or deciding to transform my clitoris into a penis but life changing like making memories I’ll have forever. Memories that could very well change my perspective on life, my life plan, or just reiterate the beliefs I already have! Six months ago, I decided I would quit my job, give away or pack my apartment contents in a storage unit, stuff my SUV full of camping gear, and spend an entire summer camping across the country.”
“… let’s be selfish! Let’s be crazy! Why not now? Before I know it, life could pass me by, as in I will no longer have the ability to be selfish anymore. I also have the ability to be selfish now, for the first time in a long time. Andy and I have been broken up for over a year now, hard to believe! After four years of a relationship, and several before that, I need some ‘me’ time. What better way than an entire summer on the road?! Let the adventure being!!!”
In revisiting this journal entry from 2015, I chuckled to myself a bit: I clearly thought it was only going to be one summer of travel. Cute.
Eventually the bats started to work their way closer and closer, and my bug spray for the mosquitos and gnats became obsolete. I called it a night. Well, I was up for another two hours listening to the silence (so to be clear, listening to nothing) because I’d never slept outside in a tent by myself without a single person within screaming distance.
My first night was in the books.
Ode to Momma Mary
“To Molly—
Every great adventure needs a travel journal. You could also use this to plan your excursion and then to chronicle every day during the trip. You’ll be very pleased one day down the road that you did. It’s also nice to keep track of all the people you meet and the experiences you shared. Here’s to a great trip Molly—one I’m sure you’ll never forget!
We love you and your sense of adventure and self-discovery!
Mom & Dad”
