Welcome to Wander Home

Downtown Minneapolis

I used to own a home in Minneapolis and commute downtown for a 9 to 5 marketing job that often turned into an 8 to 7 kind of job. I loved many things about my life then: the strawberries and mint growing in the garden; living two blocks from the Mississippi River; taking the light rail downtown to try out the latest restaurant.

But I also felt trapped. A restlessness took hold of me, and I longed for something different–something two weeks of annual travel never seemed to provide.

“What would you do differently?” my ex asked when I spoke of needing change.

He meant without him. My restlessness had led me to push and pull at every aspect of my life, including our relationship. Life meant having a job, he told me, paying the mortgage (at the very least, paying the rent). That would be true no matter where I went, or who I went there with.

I didn’t have an answer for him. I didn’t know what I would do differently.

Mica (pronounced Meeka) after moving to CB

But in 2010–after two years of the tumult that comes with starting over–I set out to find an answer. I packed whatever I could fit into my Mazda Protoge5 (it wasn’t much), and headed to Crested Butte, Colorado with my little black dog. I didn’t have a job lined up. I had no idea what I would do there. I still carried the guilt that came from leaving everything (and everyone) behind.

Now, two years later, I know that in many ways my ex was right. Life is as it ever was: I have a job, and I still pay bills. Many days I go to work, work out, eat dinner, watch TV and go to sleep.

The Upper Lower Loop, my after-work ride.

But here, working means writing for the local paper and freelancing. Working out means riding my mountain bike on the Lower Loop, single track with a view of Paradise Divide. On weekends, I rock climb in Taylor Canyon (a 20 minute drive) or Utah (a 5 hour drive). Everyday can have adventure.

And there are some things I do very differently. I do not pay a mortgage, instead living in three places in one year (six, if you count the house sitting stints). I did it in part to save money, and in part to meld my life with my more-transient-than-I boyfriend. My favorite home continues to be the one-room cabin with a sleeping loft and no kitchen. It didn’t take long to get used to cooking on a 2-burner coleman stove and keeping veggies in the cooler (though it was nice to finally get a fridge).

My life has taken on a curious blend of the things I sought to leave behind (permanence and structure in the form of jobs and knowing where I’ll sleep every night) and adventure (mountain biking, rock climbing and travel). Where I once thought that having a home meant learning to live with unfulfilled wanderlust, I’ve learned that it’s quite the opposite: the more adventure I let in, the stronger my sense of home becomes.

Hence, the name of this blog: Wander Home. In going out–away from the things I once knew–I found the strong sense of place I’ve experienced yet. Wander Home is where I explore what that means, through the lens of writing, climbing, biking, travel, and more simply, living.