When does a trip begin? Every Autumn I have to tie myself to my chair to keep from hitting the road. It’s my favorite time of year, and it’s also the time of year that marks the anniversary of the time our family took off from our secure life in Minnesota to find a new place to live. I was 30, feeling bogged down by other people’s expectations that we have more kids, buy a bigger house, get more expensive furniture, and obtain all the trappings of a middle class life. My life felt planned by others, and I wanted to write my own story. On a whim, we decided to sell everything we owned and look for a new place to live. We sold our home, all of our earthly possessions (we did hold on to my grandmother’s cookie sheets), and hit the road. The plan was as uncomplicated as “let’s follow the fall.” We had enough money from the sale of our house to travel for 6 months if we only spent $10/day, not counting gas. We saved a couple thousand dollars for a down payment on a new home when the time came. It was a great trip. We traveled 23,000 miles in 7 months and ended up in California, the last place on earth we thought we’d live.
Now it’s 35 years later, and every fall for at least the last 10 years, I’ve been ready to “follow the fall.” But instead of taking off, I’ve given in to my sense of responsibility and stuck around to work, pay bills, take care of grandkids, settle into our homes in Tahoe and Florida. It’s always surprising to me what the turning point will be (more…)