Tag Archives: Barriers

Ongoing Re-entry: OR, Is it Healthy to be Adapted to an Un-Healthy World?

Coming back into my “life at work in the city”, I’m once again seen smiling.  My ready smile and health I treasure even more as Jane and I celebrate each other and Her Health!  But I begin to watch and listen to the world around me.  Please join me in what may become a series of posts (hopefully interactive, as I have much to learn) on philosophies, strategies, observations and the desire to continue to grow.  The Trampervoyage continues and was really just a beginning.  My views are working for me so far and I’d love to share them, nurture and fine tune them with yours too.  Please “Comment”, perhaps a dialog will begin on the fine art of survival in modern times.

I’ve been heard to say, “We all skate on the thin ice of good health”.  I fervently believe it.  Physical and mental health are flighting delicate features that we so often take for granted.  Perhaps this too is important; the ice is opaque and all that can go wrong lies hidden where it doesn’t usually affect our daily life.  Full of analogies, imagine walking on a curb, little or no consequence below.  Next, step onto a balance beam.  Only 5 feet above gym mats or a spotter, your fears change your movements and freeze your every step.   Imagine the same impossible steps on a log above a rushing, icy river.    It’s all perception; the same task with a different level of fear.  People who don’t work in healthcare are insulated from all possible fates and infections.  Best they (or we who do see it) don’t really know or dwell on all that bed stuff anyway.  A healthy person would be frozen from action if all of the dire illnesses were at the front of the mind.

Today I will expand on some other emotional challenges.  Imagine two short paths leading to the same safe arrival.  (except that while traveling we can never know for sure about that safe arrival)  In the first, you awake, manage a cursory breakfast, hop into the car noting the light blue early morning sky.  Traffic allows a smooth passage, a few extra green lights, a driver waves you into the next lane, smiles greet you at the parking lot.  The first person you see asks how your weekend was and seems to want an answer.  Smiling and recounting chores done and some fun had, you feel refreshed and ready to work.  Peers all sort of blend in and you feel prepared to handle the challenge of a new day and whatever it is that lands on your desk

The second path includes the same cursory meal, but a bit of dark jelly stains your freshly laundered shirt.  No time to spare, you rush out to the car and try to “hurry to work”.  A near miss has you cursing and thinking what an idiot that “minivan” driver was.  Stuck in a turn lane, your thoughts simmer at how you’ll surely miss the light (and take all of 30-40 seconds longer). Maybe you spill a little coffee.  A coworker pulls into a spot you had just glanced at.  The world seems out-to-get-you.  I won’t expand on the expression you might be wearing and the steam rising above you; no wonder the first words tossed about aren’t so complimentary.  Each of these “little events” can be rationalized into a “nothing”, no big deal.  But chances are good, as they convene, your mental perspective is teetering.  We begin to tell ourselves how the world is.  And our captive brain listens so well.

These two vignettes are played out over and over all day, each and every day!  The struggle to stay afloat and positive is real and constant.  News (I won’t rant too long) and media warn you constantly how dangerous the world is.  Sorry, we just travelled 190 days, never knowing where to park or who to trust and found warmth and welcome in every state.  This piece, though, investigates what we tell ourselves, not what David has to say about the “Good ole USA”.

Various faiths offer meditation, prayer, solace and even touch-able objects like a rosary to guide thoughts to a quiet, unfettered place.  But it is still what we believe and what we tell ourselves that creates the field of our mind which perceives the world around.  An old post-punk band named “X” coined a song with the refrain: “I must not think bad thoughts”.  Not a bad mantra really.

What really brings all this to the surface while adapting to “my old life”, is observing how people interact.  So many of us relish a negative swagger to the re-telling of a story.  Difficult patient or retail experiences seem to beg the retelling and maybe even embellishing.   Many even escalate in commiserating with one another speculating the outcomes of future events.  Forming all the worst scenarios and  getting everyone around worked up in the process.

The shared experience, good or bad, is guided intentionally or accidentally via conscious and unconscious means.  My mother (of seven children), intuitively or by hard learned lesson, always recited “No news is good news”, waiting for siblings to come home late at night, saying “the police would have called by now if anything bad had happened”.   I believe, I too have gained a bit of that quiet, calm that awaits real information before inciting panic or riot.

I also believe the sharing directly between people is largely modulated by mirror cells.  In numerous parts of our brain are groups of cells called mirror cells or mirror neurons.  Scans have allowed us to see empathetic or mimicking activity of a task occurring even as we “only witness” the activity.  Areas “fire” the same whether performing or merely observing a task.  For example, someone walks down the hall carrying boxes, slips a bit, and begins to juggle or drop those boxes.  A viewer, “feels”  for them and turns on areas of the brain responsible for balance.  Reflexes kick in that would stabilize the viewer’s trunk to react.   That same viewer might even initiate a movement to catch himself.   Watching someone cry, can trigger strong emotional responses.  Fortunately, laughter too, is infectious.

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“CLICK” for the UCLA Mirror Neurons article

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“CLICK” for the NY Times Mirror Cells article

Society and learning has been linked to these types of cells.  Empathy, imagining, feeling what someone else feels begins a connection and shared emotion.

HOW CAN WE GUIDE OUR THOUGHTS TO MAKE US MORE POSITIVE PEOPLE?  Surrounding ourselves with constructive people.  Listening to our own reactions.   Jane once had a little bracelet that she would move from one wrist to the other each time she made a negative comment.

I’m convinced it is (unfortunately) much more natural and easier to be negative than positive.  Perhaps cave men and women survived by noting and avoiding bad foods and bad places.  Shoppers today revel in scathing commentary…look at online reviews and surveys.  If we can catch ourselves before speaking, only to make suggestions for improvement or constructive replies,  can we skirt the gripe sessions and celebrated negativity.  Does griping really make us happy?  Does venting perform a purpose?

What makes a good Psychological survival strategy?

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I attended a course in 2007 given by Eric Gentry, about Compassion Fatigue and I’d like to share the 3 lessons learned.  The instructor is a PhD Psychologist and “Traumatologist” who trained the trainers after Oklahoma bombings, the Twin Towers of 911, and after Katrina.  Rather than preaching what he thought would be a good strategy or reciting things from his books, he and his group have studied survivors.  He studied the traits seen in the strongest people who pick up and Thrive in the  worst of settings.  I’ll try to outline those traits as reviewed in the course.

http://www.compassionfatigue.org/pages/nextsteps.html

1) Connections/Narrative:  Use your network.  Someone surrounded with people who care is far more likely to thrive.  BUT, don’t burn them out.  If a chosen partner, buddy or coworker is your main resource they must be allowed to say “No, not right now, I’m busy or can’t get involved this moment”,  Respect the answer and approach later with clearance.  Confidentiality and trust matter, plus the external feedback adds objectivity.

"I've got your back"

“I’ve got your back”

2) Relax the Body: Separate actual from perceived threat or danger, self regulation, control your body’s reactions, breathing, relax the pelvic floor.  The instructor couldn’t emphasize enough the weight of carrying stress and tension in the body. Don’t load the system with adrenaline if fight or flight isn’t actually needed.  Chronic sympathetic overload encourages the stress hormone cortisol and it’s hosts of negative influences.  (This supports my general avoidance of violence in film or “action movies”)

3) Self Care:  (Not self indulgence), sleep well, eat well, drink plenty of water, 20 minutes of aerobic activity at least 3X/week, Integrative activity, (music, art, craft, skills and improvisation, more activities to connect with joy, hope, life and wonder).   (My take on this is that we as an organism can’t function optimally, can’t heal, can’t think right in murky states of health.  Our “few pound” brain uses 20-30% of our energy and bloodflow.  Think back to how exhausted you feel after an emotional event, a funeral….not much exercise, but lots of energy spent)

Stay Playfull !

Stay Playfull !

Please send me your thoughts.  The networks possible today can blend and share benefits freely.

-David

The Incredible Weight of Simplicity

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“Wow, 190 day trip.  How would you even pack for that?”  a first question of a coworker upon reunion.

Well that really brings together old and new thoughts, pre and post trip musing.  In the planning stage was the same question.  Now, I look around my home and life and wonder what all this crap is.  I wonder why I have all this stuff and how I can make sense of it, or ever get it organized.

Packing, we knew we’d be facing four seasons.  We knew the sports we’d ply.  Lists sprouted: Skis, boots, poles, long undies-tops and bottoms, coat, shell, ski pants, helmet, goggles, glove and mittens.  Hand warmers for Jane, so many accessories- but all easily listed and known.  Then the bikes with their shorter list, kayak with only paddles and life vests.  Hiking, the simplest, added only hiking boots and a day pack.   All easily splayed out in the house or garage, but a bit harder to condense and fit into a tramper and 4Runner.  The obvious and self explained necessities!

Next came clothing.  We heard the wise words of a traveling PT friend.  Bring less, he said.  “I’ve been to China for two weeks with no more than a small knapsack carry-on”.  Wise indeed, but it may have been months before we really “got” it.

Rebuilding the Tramper gave me time to ponder and plan.  Each drawer, shelf and cabinet was to have a purpose.  Some I left as in 1957.  Others had to be removed and revised.

The kitchen, including ALL pots, pans and tools

The kitchen, including ALL pots, pans and tools

The toilet room became a shower and storage for soap and shampoo, the grey water tank, our little commode, laundry detergent and sport wipes.  The table had drawers for 4 forks, spoons,  and 2 knives (one butter, one sharp).  Another drawer, the requisite “junk drawer”, post-its, pens, pencils, a sharpie and small details.

Two drawers, nicely added by a previous owner, (date unknown...1950's 60's?)

Two drawers, nicely added by a previous owner, (date unknown…1950’s 60’s?)

I had built a deep cabinet next to the fridge with 4 shelves above the right wheel well.  The bottom was purpose built to hold two boot-bag knapsacks.  Each of our indulgent boot packs “always” houses those big, heavy ski boots, a helmet, gloves/mittens, neck warmer, sunblock and just a few small accessories.  System organization.  My favorite!  And it works at home, as one can keep the categorized toys or tools of one need in one place, “always” knowing just where to look.

This puzzle piece was 17″ high though.  The boot bags ate a big chunk of space, but their weight nests right over the trailer axle.  Above was divided into 2 shelves each 2 for Hers, 2 shelves for His.  On two were baskets to hold ALL of each of our “normal” clothing.  Into the house they went and piles of underwear, T-shirts, long sleeve shirts, short and long pants were tossed.  Not long before they were overflowing, you can imagine!   Out came a few things.  Then more discussion.

In talk with our selves and travel consultant, John, the PT we knew less was going to be plenty.  Only we could decide how much less.  Clean socks and underwear a necessity, how often would we do laundry?  Having the small shower stall and hot/cold running water was a luxury we knew afforded hand washing as needed.  We settled for about 5 pairs of socks and undies each, washing them nearly every day.  Twas fun to note humidity’s effect on drying.  The dank week of Hurricane Sandy in Rosendale threatened us with that “sour” laundry smell.  The arid deserts and Western mountains dried things overnight or faster and the air we breathed was softened by the humidity.

Of course the mesh laundry bags that piled with bigger loads and heavier clothes were relieved mostly in campgrounds, occasionally in towns at laundromats.  So there we were, with the fewest clothes we thought we could make it with.  Several waves of subtraction left us each with one basket to live from.  And live we did!  An astute observer might notice the small selection in our pictures.  (They always wore the same few clothes)  We didn’t mind a bit.  Prompted me to get rid of and donate quite a pile on return home.  Jane has “halved” her closet compared to before the Voyage!

-David

(I’ll try to get some more pics of our total clothing basket)

Road Rage Redux

Now at home, in the crowded Baltimore Metro area, I find myself falling back into some old, bad habits. Rush_hour_traffic_in_Washington,_D.CSpecifically, the tendency to judge other drivers and be mad at them. So many cars in so little space makes for some crowded road conditions. Cars are abundant, omnipresent. I forget sometimes that, in each of these vehicles (usually one person per vehicle, unfortunately) is a human being. Driving a car does not, as we may believe, make a person immediately an idiot. It’s so easy, though, to fall back into that mode.

800px-Photograph_of_Shirley_Highway_During_Evening_Rush_Hour_Traffic_-_NARA_-_546644Driving down the road I find myself angry without much provocation . Angry at the people behind the wheel of all those cars. “You cut me off, you dumbo!” “Where did you learn to drive?” “That was such a stupid move!”  Truth be told, drivers of cars frequently make mistakes. Some are small and irritating. Some are huge and irritating as well as dangerous. I’m not saying that I should be able to ignore the dangerous moves of another driver. That would be dangerous for me!

The question is, how can I ignore, or rather accommodate, those little driving gaffes that we all make. 800px-Signal_korea_3red_and_left_TurnYou know, the small things. Like changing one’s mind in line under a red light and not quite fitting into the new lane, thus blocking my way (as if I’d get far anyway!). Or, forgetting to use one’s turn signal until the last moment or not at all. Any driver wanting to move their car in front of you in the travel lane. These small things are not life threatening (usually) and can be accommodated. I can relax and not let them bother me. Even better, maybe I can even back off a bit to help the person who changed their mind under the red light and move a few inches so they can fit in. Or, give a little wave and a little space to the guy who wants to nudge his car in front of yours. Relax. Smile at the person in the other car.

lossy-page1-800px-EVENING_RUSH_HOUR_TRAFFIC_ON_PARKWAY_EAST_AT_PITTSBURGH_PENNSYLVANIA_-_NARA_-_557229.tifIt’s a good exercise for me – to actively practice unclenching; relaxing. To help another driver in a small way. It doesn’t really make me late. Not at all.  There’s lots of tension involved in keeping people from “taking advantage” of me. Which is exactly the bad habit I’m in danger of falling back into.

So, I’ll take a cue from The Voyage of the Tramper and see my fellow humans, even those behind the wheel, as the lovely, intelligent, capable people that they probably are and give them a break in traffic. 800px-Traffic_jam_Rio_de_Janeiro_03_2008_28It enriches me to be generous. And it just might make someone’s day.

– Jane

All photos in this post are from Wikimedia Commons.

WOW, Now what?

First I’d like to thank anyone who checked in, commented or just plain enjoyed any part of our adventure via this blog.  We never considered having a big audience or following, only wanting to chronicle a little and maybe make a vicarious thrill available for family and friends.  Next thing we knew, we realized we had to keep up.  Writing regularly was the only way to avoid that overwhelming list of “things we should do”.  It grew to be a true joy and an integral part of the Voyage!

Second, I invite pretty much any of you to borrow the Tramper for your own trip.  REALLY!  Through some nice, mutual agreement (not necessarily financial), I would love to see someone else’s dreams facilitated.  A new pair of tires, a battery, or maybe some cool as yet unknown accessory could comprise a rental arrangement.  Additional requirements would include a discussion of the “value” or replacement cost and the suggestion of insuring the camper.  One final requirement would be a display of commitment or intent.  “You” would have to demonstrate a beginner’s understanding of towing safety, RV boon docking, propane safety, and a willingness to learn about the Tramper in particular.

Its simple really, remember I knew nothing about any of this before locating the derelict camper in Delaware.   The details of this learning adventure would likely include a nearby camping trip where I could explain things briefly and hand over the reigns.  Out of this, I would get a return investment of vicarious thrills  and a few weeks or months with “no Tramper in my yard”.  Driveway access to my workshop is narrowed by the sleeping beauty.

barely room to walk through

barely room to walk through

I also want to begin talk of my internal voyage.  We didn’t run away from a bad life to do this trip.  To the contrary, we loved our home, family, jobs, friends and the routine of daily life.  I LOVE TO WORK.  We left to celebrate all that we love and can still do.  We took the chance of “all that could go wrong”, Murphy’s law be damned, and did it.  Now we return safely and are faced with our life.  The rest of our life.  Life after the Trampervoyage; whatever that is to become.

Honestly it feels at once overwhelming and underwhelming.  During the journey we floated high in conversations.  There we were, living the dream.  People congratulated us.  People seemed to envy us at times.  Most encouraged and cheered us on.  The accomplishment was in the moment and in “where to tomorrow?”  Now, we have returned and there is no tangible evidence.  No physical accomplishment.   Maybe THAT is what drives me to make and fix so many things.  In creating tangible projects, I create my own little trophy.  I create my report card.  After all, wasn’t school sometimes more rewarding than work?  You got grades!  Someone told you how you were doing!

Today I broke away from Jane to do something separate.  We have had the incredible blessing of being together for nearly every task and joy for 190 days, 24 hours per day.  We were rarely apart.  Doubtful many couples could say that at any point in their marriage.  We’ve continued that at home, working on unpacking, cleanup and other home tasks.  But today Jane went to see her sister; I went to see the elephants!

In March of every year, Baltimore hosts the circus.  Hopefully each of you has some fond memory of the youthful attraction enshrining the circus.  Maybe you ran away and joined?  (If so, tell us some of your stories)  Anyway, one of the more colorful local traditions includes an Elephant Parade.  Tenders march the big beautiful beasts through the city streets, up from the arena to the Lexington Market for a big lunch buffet.  Then after a desert of watermelons, they parade back down to their cages, I presume, to await their other performances.

You can agree with the spectacle or argue the treatment of zoo and performance animals everywhere, but I thought it was WONDERFUL.  Without these few “suffering” performing animals, most of humanity knows nothing of their immensity.  Most of us could not fathom the emotional eyes of an elephant, nor the grandeur of the whole animal kingdom if it weren’t for our contact, albeit limited through showcases of zoos, circuses, and aquariums.  The size, shimmering fur, smells and splashes of them all would all be reduced to photographs or TV shows someone else framed for us.  I saw intimate views of a fox family on public TV last night, yet my memory of the litter berthed under my mom’s porch was more vivid.  Those kits nipped and yipped playfully and beautifully, nursing until they were weaned before we “encouraged” them to move out of that urban den.

What then, does any of this have to do with the Voyage of the Tramper?  A full circle is a difficult journey.  Its hard to come back.  I have found myself looking at all that makes up a person.  I find myself lacking the same “value” I had as a productive, functioning and working member of society.  I felt as though I had retired.  I read a version of “retired” in Steinbeck’s East of Eden that I will avoid as I can with all my heart.  Retired meant surrendered.  Retired meant finished with all productive contribution.  Samuel moved to the city in retirement, and eased uselessly to his death.  He invited it.  He accepted it.  And he chose to cease contributing.

The happiest “retirees” I know now are volunteers.  Giving some of themselves to causes they value.  My sister, retired at one time, wrote the word “something” on her calendar a few days each week.  When called upon by the limitless needs of one charity or another, she could honestly say: “Sorry, I’ve got something that day”.  In this she protected bits of her time as needed.  Hospitals, The Aquarium, Red Cross, soup kitchens, and more, there are any number of fulfilling ways to “retire” and be fulfilled by those around us.  On our Voyage we met hosts at campgrounds and made breakfasts sandwiches with a local North Carolina church.

I have selfishly preserved a few extra weeks to work on our house and home before returning to work.  I had the luxury of free time.  Time sometimes takes on different dimensions.  Everyone I know who is retired says they don’t know how they got things done while they worked full-time.  Perspective changes.

When I have two hours available and two hours of “work to get done”, it gets done.  When I have a week stretched out ahead, pressure is off, things can be delayed.  Procrastination is a vine.  Working raises the stakes.  Work schedules create the skill of prioritization.  Working is vital.  I think working is a part of vitality.  Being productive raises self-worth.  Even exercise at a gym is a form of productivity.  Even playful exercise is rewarding and productive; improving health, re-creating us, building muscle all the while.

I found walking, then running along to keep up with the elephants invigorating.  It reminded me of my love of our city.  We have been in the cocoon of our Voyage for 6 months.  We truly felt disconnected from 2012-13.  In rural and wild places, this was only natural.  But the majority of our journey carried us also through rural, agrarian places.  Through what felt like a different time.  We often felt like we were living “in the fifties” right along with that old Tramper.  Cities became shocking.  The resort at Beaver Creek, overwhelming.  A modern pace of life distasteful.

Being home too has been bewildering.  70 square feet of living space and just one basket of clothes each has us in a simple mindset.  We see now we have “so many things” in our home.  I’m longing for the simplicity.  Too many clothes, too many dishes, pots and pans.  I am, today, adapting better.  I was part of the crowd who wanted to see the elephants.  I saw the elephants themselves, line up, gladly clasping tails in trunk and parade back to the arena.  In this too, I jump back into life, a life I love!

-David

ENJOY THE PARADE!

I had forgotten that it was going to be crowded, that it would be hard to get a good view

I had forgotten that it was going to be crowded, that it would be hard to get a good view

I had forgotten too, that I AM PART OF THAT CROWD

I had forgotten too, that I AM PART OF THAT CROWD

...and what a privilege, to be part of the crowd!
…and what a privilege, to be part of the crowd!

The BIG Buffet

Clearly the eye of a veteran

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Ladies and Gentlemen, children of all ages...

Ladies and Gentlemen, children of all ages…

the elephants begin to leave and I realize that I CAN KEEP UP WITH THEM

the elephants begin to leave and I realize that I CAN KEEP UP WITH THEM

lets stay together

lets stay together

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I Think they were Glad to be out in the sun! (I know I was)

I Think they were Glad to be out in the sun! (I know I was)

"hold hands when you cross the street"

“hold hands when you cross the street”

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Everyone, step-in-line

Lets go get ready for the show

Lets go get ready for the show

The Voyage Continues

Or does it?

If you read between the lines.  If you’ve read all of the comments and our replies.  If you’ve glanced at a map or noticed a change in our pace.  If we bothered to tell you anything at all.  Put these pieces together and take note.  A circle is completed as we write from our Towson home.  Travel decisions each day were affected by so many things.  We left in hopes of “6 months to a year on the road”.   A chance to bike, hike, ski and live wherever the day took us.  One hundred and ninety days later we felt the calls homeward.  Each day on the road we asked, “where should we go tomorrow?”

As we drove down from the Rockies toward Denver, my answer was “maybe we should head home?”  This thought was cemented as we spoke of finances.  A warm day of mountain biking was enough to detain us in Kansas, but not to change our direction.  A few grey days on the road, and storms that kept threatening from the North nudged us Eastward.  A final clear day, snow on the Ohio and Pennsylvania grass led us to see I-70 as a good way home, despite previous months of avoiding Interstates.

Over my shoulder we knew the Baltimore sign depicted the long road from Fort Cove, UT

With a quick picture over my shoulder we knew this Baltimore sign depicted the long road we drove from Denver, and Utah near Zion and Moab

Locals had led us to unexpected jewels!  Serendipity showed us safety and regular smiles!  I got to ski a whole lot!  We hiked peaks, canyons and caverns!  Jane saw warmth and wildflowers!  In fact, today we see the old tricks of March; wet snow, heavy branches and refrigerated blossoms.  No worry, it melts fast this time of year.

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The pressures that led us home were many.  We ran out of paper towels.  The Tramper account has seen only withdrawals for months now.  Both of us need to find jobs and pay some bills.   Marfa kept raising concerns about that big Continental Divide.  If needed, I’d imagined a plan to rent a truck in Utah, towing the heavy Tramper over the mountain passes to Denver if necessary.  With  Jane driving the 4Runner sans trailer, it would do fine.  The concerns continued, passes provided 25 mph crawls, but the transmission temperature never went out of control again.

Ahh, but the concern for this and other bits went on.  The 5  Day weather reports gave us windows to travel in.  (I won’t tow in snow and have even avoided rain as much as practical)  Safety is always a lens of concern for me.  My focus on joy and adventure is tempered by wanting to get home safe.  My responsibility to “keep Jane safe” is not just a funny topic.  Many nights were lightly slept in anticipation of noises or vehicles arriving nearby.

Yes, we crested one of the highest points in our journey, skied a few more times, and headed East.  I poked fun at our nation; “they’ll be nothing to do between here (Summit County, CO) and the Appalachian Mountains.”  “My cousin used to drive from Colorado to Baltimore in 36 hours.  We’ll be home in 3 or 4 days”.  Fortunately Kansas threw a surprise at me.  The world is full of surprises.  You’d think I would have remembered that lesson from earlier in the “Voyage”. 

We have many thoughts to share.  We have over 11,000 pictures to peruse and condense to a more sharable 100 or so.  We have memories of our longest “vacation” ever.  We have lists of new friends.  We have blog and Facebook followers.  And we have lots more to say.  We will be looking back at the trip and looking at its impact on us.  One visitor we met in Colorado asked, “How has your perspective changed”.  I shied from an answer, telling him I will know more a few months after our return.  If I don’t change actions or lifestyle, how can I say my perspective has changed?

We wonder if there are other questions out there.  We are likely to post retrospective thoughts.  Maybe a bit of logistics, maybe we’ll post what we’d do differently, perhaps a few suggestions for future travelers.  I want to post a piece with all of the barns we saw.   I see a whole post of cool things seen on trucks.  Trains became our favorite night time neighbors.  Wind energy prompted inquiry all across the country.  We hope to add more thoughts and questions.  Our life now has the vision of the Tramper.

Over all it was such a treat!  Jane and I lived in a 70 square foot space, awoke and stayed together 24/7 and not once broke into fisticuffs as Jimmy Cotton, our new friend in North Carolina had feared.  We truly hope that as we traveled, you enjoyed.  As we posted pictures, you felt a fraction of the awe we shared.  Surely if we can do The Voyage of the Tramper, whatever you are dreaming of is possible too!

-David