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: the strawberries 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. Like I was suffocating. A restlessness took hold of me, and I longed for something different–something two weeks of annual travel never seemed to provide.
In 2010, after two years of the tumult that comes from ending a marriage, selling a house and finishing grad school, I set out to find something different. 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 carried the guilt that came from leaving everything (and everyone) behind.
Now, in many ways life is as it ever was: I have a job, and when I remember, I pay bills. Many days I go to work, work out, eat dinner, watch TV and go to sleep.
But work 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.
I do not pay a mortgage, instead living in three places in one year (six, if you count the house sitting stints). Now, I am camping out for two months with my boyfriend (read more HERE). Aside from sleeping in a tent, my favorite home was a 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 (got me ready for camping out).
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 adventure (mountain biking, rock climbing, camping out, 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 strongest 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.
I also believe that adventure can be part of any life, in any place. So I will share ideas and inspiration for everyday adventure, in cities and wild places alike. I hope you’ll join me on the journey.