Several people in our cavalcade of family down the road feel an impending sadness upon leaving somewhere truly grand.
Saying goodbye to friends and favorite trails or playgrounds, even simply the change in what has been established as ours.
Still, others are excited for new prospects. For every new day there’s another possibility. I’m fortunate for those Nannies and Winters of my life who’ve backed me with that type of optimism.
For the Ladies and Ts that’ve shown remorse for migration after months spent somewhere specific, I feel for them as well. Falling in love with a place, new pals, a first girlfriend, it’s hard to just up and wave them off in the rearview. I also know that a week of adjustment and a month on the road, they’re happy for the new situation, the new possibility.
Finding home is forever on our list if goals, it’s just not one that ever needs clearly defined until it happens. You don’t know that the Smokey Mountains or Oregon’s North Coast are going to prove home until they already have.
And for me, that’s the best time to start thinking about loading up the van and picking a route. Preferably two lane.