Life On The Road: Happily Homeless

Homeless. A bad word back home. It brings up visions of scruffy people living on the street, begging for coins, and best avoided when possible. Yet I am now accurately described as being homeless myself, a condition I worked hard to achieve. It is even a matter of pride, for me and for others who have done the same.

Being homeless is frequently a source of differences in how people travel. Those who have a home to go back to rarely feel free to travel indefinitely. They frequently have schedules to meet, obligations to return to. Even if it is just an empty house waiting for their return and nothing else, it seems to put a constant pressure on many travelers. The truly homeless typically seem more free to relax as they travel, more free to wander around at the whim of fate each day.

Perhaps this is why I have never been homesick on this trip. Sure I miss being in Colorado. Family and friends. Amazing scenery. Spectacular weather. It is the place I would return to if I were to stop traveling right now, but it is not home. Home, to the extent I have one, is my motorcycle, my tent, whatever bed I am in tonight.

More than once I have caught myself out exploring a new town saying to someone “it is late, time to go home,” referring to my tent or a hostel dorm bed. When I am asked by people “where is home?” I sometimes have to stop and think because I’m not certain what to answer. It takes me a bit to realize that what they want to know is “where are you from?”

Thinking about it now, it is a strange thought that I have adjusted to this life of wandering. That I am a homeless nomad. The last vestiges of a feeling of “vacation” have disappeared. It is just my way of life. A day here, a week there, perhaps a month or two somewhere else. Then I move on. It feels right. It feels like the way things should be.

2 comments to Life On The Road: Happily Homeless

  • Grant

    Looking over your entries, one can almost say that the vacations are where you stop for a few days to enjoy a particular site, as you did for Christmas, or even at FurBQ in British Colombia. The “regular life” for you has become nomadic, and you go to furloughs at certain locations to “take a break from the…” well, it’s a race of sorts, but I wouldn’t call it The Rat Raceā„¢.

  • Elizabeth

    I read your revised home page and love it. It gives a great insight into your travels, growth, and experiences so far. I am amazed at how fast you got to “nomad” as opposed to the ‘on vacation’ mentality. I applaud you for that realization.

    As far as home is concerned… Some say home is where the heart is. Some say it is where you live. Many as you have discovered refer to it as where you are from. And that could be a translation / dialect / cultural idiom issue as well. Asking ‘where is home’ could be their way of saying where are you from? However you define it will be the right choice for you. I applaud you for discovering your ‘way’ and look forward to hearing about your discoveries in the months and years to come.

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