Why Extended Travel is for Everyone. Including You.🫵🏼
an old quote, a story, a ramble, a lesson
This quote might look familiar to you
It’s referenced in the Introduction to my book, plus it’s one of those luminating, provocative quotes which has stayed with me over the years and gained new meaning.
In this essay, I’m going to explore how that quote pertains to both travel and normal life.1 I’m also going to explain the three core reasons why I believe humans (generally) love to travel.
Let’s begin with the latter, normal life.
It’s September 7th and barrels of white, summer light stripe the carpet of my room.
Grackles cackle from the telephone pole beside my house. Fresh coffee wafts in from the kitchen. There's a fierce, jarring vroom from a motorbike in the street below.
Austin, Texas. Back home.
I stretch my legs and Pepper grumbles at my feet.2
I crawl out of bed and begin my morning routine.
Despite the two month road trip separating me from this bed—and any semblance of routine—I slip easily into the same old morning habit-stack.
It should be noted: I too, like my red-haired rooster-cousins, love a good routine.
Need it.
Miss it when it’s gone.
How does it feel when you’ve drank your morning beverage, taken down some work, gotten active at the gym or studio or outdoors, gone for a nice walk and caught up with a friend, eaten a hearty meal or two, read or watched Netflix, gone to bed at a reasonable hour?
A day like that begs to be repeated.
Yet, what we hear on podcasts, in books, on social media today is about breaking routines and getting out of your comfort zone.
I’m as much a proponent of challenging oneself as any. But can one truly be out of his/her comfort zone all the time?
In the war against the “routine,” I’m against what today’s zeitgeisty army of highbrow-growth-obsessed-semi-yogi-semi-buddhist-artsy-tech-nerd-and-also-gym-rats believe.
Routines are not the enemy.
Routines are natural.
Necessary.
Problems arise when the routine tumbles out of control.
Three Months Earlier
It’s June 2022.
Technically summer has not even begun, but Austin’s temperature already lives in the 90’s and often climbs over 100 degrees.
I’m deep in the throes of BrainStation’s Software Development Coding Bootcamp—drowning in code.3
I inhale and sneeze. Dog hair, pollen, and dander float around my room like dandelion spurs.
My alarm sounds its synthetic chime. To the left of the bed is a thin white book, a pencil, and a notebook. Across the room, my phone rests on a keyboard that’s been layered with dust.
I reach for the book and read the morning passage as fast as I can. It’s two pages from a buddhist monk on slowing down.
I take a few notes, and hurry to scribble down my morning pages in the notebook.
It’s now 7:25am. I have 90 minutes to dress, drive to the gym, workout, drive home, and log onto Zoom.
I race through it all, and am still a few minutes late 9:00am.
Late, as usual.
“So,” says the teacher. He’s wearing a plaid button down and his dark hair is combed back. “How does everyone feel to be in the last week of the bootcamp? You all must feel like software engineers now, right?”
I cringe and my stomach turns and I look to the other faces on the screen.
Unlike most of these budding-coder-wizards, I’m struggling to stay afloat.
I haven’t told anyone, but there’s a very real chance I fail out of the course.
There are plenty of reasons why I struggled so immensely4 but, in hindsight, I'm convinced it was one thing above all—obvious as the stink coming from my sweat-sodden shirt—which had been the fuel source for my struggle bus.
My routines had taken control.
Only an arrogant fool would think he could add in a coding bootcamp without decreasing the amount he went to the gym, jiu jitsu, yoga, improv, toastmasters, recording the podcast, or any of the other activities that keep him busy.
I am that arrogant fool.
While the smarter and more diligent students took mornings and evenings to review and ask lingering questions, I was out clinging to my habits, refusing to let go.
Travel === A Routine’s Silver Bullet
For me, there’s nothing better than travel to break out-of-control routines. Maybe it’s the change of geography, or seeing new faces, or something beyond conscience comprehension—whatever it is, I’m not eager to break the spell.
Stressed, nervous, and feeling more of an imposter than ever before, I left Austin.
Left to see new faces, new places, and come back a different man.
Subtlety has never been my strength, so it probably won’t surprise you that I chose to combat an acute case of ORD, or Obsessive-Routine-Disorder5 with a >7,400 mile road trip.6
On this ~50 day journey, I climbed mountains, swam in alpine lakes, ran on little known beaches, slept among the Redwoods, spent time with new people.
I walked my dog by the light of the moon with no guilt of what I had not done that day.
Because I had explored, enjoyed the company of others, experienced the world freely and without the rigidity.
It wasn’t orchestrated, routinized, mechanical, as I often tend to be.
It was natural. Fluid. Free.
It was living.7
Why People Travel
Richard Dawkins opens the Selfish Gene with a wickedly awesome question: “Why are people?”
I’m going to doctor that quote too and ask: Why are people travelers?
Seen at face value, traveling should be a burden. You exchang your closet for a 3x3 box made of plastic, your spacious car for a cramped plane seat, and all the general comforts of home.
So why are people travelers?
These are, how I see it, the three reasons—consciously or otherwise.
To break routine, rest, and introduce novelty
Exposure to a new culture and/or geography
Self-exploration in a space outside one’s natural habitat
Therein lies the connection to the quote that started this essay:
"No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it is not the same river
and he is not the same man." —Heraclitus of Ephesus
When he returned to Austin this red-headed man was not the same.
His river was not the same.
New buildings had been erected, new walking paths laid down, new people living under the roof next door.
The man had learned, in his travels, lessons only nature could impart—on economy and grit and flexibility.
And the people had taught the man too.
Strangers and friends alike, forcing him to see his strengths (few) and the flaws (copious) which he had never before considered.
And yet the man wasn’t alarmed to come back and find that his river had changed.
Because he was different too.
I’ll conclude this rambling essay with as clear a takeaway as I’m capable.
Think of a time you’ve struggled with some extended funk, problem, or dilemma.
Did hunkering down and dwelling on it bring home a solution?
Does smothering a fire with wood help it ignite?8
There seems to be a fundamental insight here nested in between the human condition and the most basic of all concepts.9
space
Relationship problems? How often is a bit of space the answer?
Stuck on a task at work? Maybe step away for a while?
Feeling small and disjointed? Might a view of some wide open space—a mountain, a beach, a rolling prairie—help?
It’s probable that I am projecting my own experiences.
Even so, are there old wives tales that advise “smother the problem with your attention”? Rather, the old tropes encourage us to “step away” and to “give the problem space.”
Not, by any means, counseling you to go AWOL on any and all responsibilities.
Rather, I’m nudging you to step out of the river.
Nudging you to make the (calculated) choice to go somewhere new for long enough10 that habits can form.
To allow your river to change, and for you to change to.
Because at least for this young-ish, privileged, seeker:
- extended travel is the solution to extended problems
Thanks for reading, vaqueros!
If you enjoyed this post, please feel free to share my Substack with a friend who might be interested. And also! Comment or reply to this post - always love hearing from y’all.
And if you happened to miss my post about the initial backcountry trip, here’s a link.
The Fall Reading List coming soon…
Ciao ✌️
—Jeremy
At least to the to the red-haired ape writing this essay
Dogs, i’ve learned, also do not like being incidentally kicked in their sleep. Who knew.
If you’re unfamiliar with Coding Bootcamps, it’s essentially a year of college level coding courses crammed into ten-or-so weeks.
Maybe my neurotic non-linear brain still needs more training to work in a logic-based way ? Maybe it would just take more time? Maybe I need more 1-1 instruction? Need to pay a bit more attention? To buy a second monitor like everyone else? Likely all of the above.
A term which I have just made up and you may now use at your leisure, tyvm
Edit: I forgot to add Santa Fe 😭
Forgive me Ursula for editing your quote! You are still the 🐐
Here’s the cue to roll your eyes / close the tab / point and laugh at me.
A theme I have thought of often and will likely explore in a future novel.
Vacations are nice for rest, but they are too short for me to build routines or to see which routines ‘stick’ for me regardless of environment.