By way of introduction: I grew up sheltered and bored in the suburbs, with no particular accomplishments, no street smarts, a slew of behavioral issues, and negligible first-hand exposure to big cities, to the outdoors, to traveling, to poverty, or to anything else involving a modicum either of self-sufficiency or of emotional fortitude. I have no college degree, and I have never worked at any job for more than eight straight months before quitting or taking a break.
I’ve been on the road—or else in between airports–since November, 2010. Before November, I spent six months living in a tent at 11,500 feet in the wilderness area of Kings Canyon National Park doing trail construction—but that’s another story, which I’m sure I’ll get to at some point. Since November, I haven’t spent more than two straight weeks in any one place.
No, I am not a trust fund hippie. All of this is paid for with money I have been making along the way, starting from what was a de facto dried-up bank account.
I don’t receive checks from my parents. I don’t receive checks from the government. I am not part of a profitable crime syndicate, to my knowledge.
Instead, I pay my own way, capitalize on non-monetary perks, don’t pay for what I don’t have to pay for, and otherwise live pretty comfortably as what is colloquially known as a dirtbag.
And I've created this little corner of the Internet to deposit a lot of the thoughts, memories, and ideas that clog up my limited cerebral real estate. Cheers.
