2013. Where to begin. At my completion of Colorado College last spring I felt trapped by the harsh realities of adulthood. No longer could I stand in front of Rastall with a cardboard sign and score swipes from underclassmen. No longer could I fist pump my way through a sweaty house party with impunity. No longer could I rely on chance encounters to see friends. Or walk into Rastall and know everyone. But that last one faded long ago.
Now I move through campus on a mission. To visit friends. To see professors. To access books. The space is transient. Campus Safety doesn’t reign over me, although I use Safe Ride on occasion. Now—with a diploma in hand, an intermission of sorts and the meager funds to hold me over to winter—it’s time to take off. I’ve always had trouble staying put.
Drew Thayer and I teamed up for bold adventures in the Bugaboos, the Black and our backyard the South Platte. Later Julian joined our ranks as we crashed the Creek, reliving block break shenanigans. Words such as first Mondays or the second weekend were tossed around camp, but had lost meaning to us. These kids might as well have adopted the ancient Egyptian calendar. I would never again date my class notes ‘Day 1-18’. Or perhaps even take another semester of classes. I have since reverted back to the Gregorian Calendar or the Western Calendar or the Christian Calendar or whatever you people in the real world call it.
Now I was free from school but trapped in the expectations of adulthood. In a world where people planned for their futures: for where they wanted to be in a decade or two. Hell, I can’t tell you what 5 years mean. Rewind. I was a senior in high school still living under my parents’ roof and felt on top of the world. I was still on my first pair of climbing shoes and my rack was way too shiny. Now, 14 pairs of shoes latter and there’s no way you’d find me gripped leading a 5.8 in the gym. 5 years ago might as well have been a lifetime ago. Who’s to say what another 5 years could bring. For now I’m taking life as it comes: one year, one month, preferably one day at a time. With a full belly and a full tank I can be anywhere. I can do what I love and keep the costs in check. As economists argue each person has the choice between free time and money. And I’d rather have the time.
One day I may want different things. But for now I find liberation in the simple fact that such a day can come on my terms, when I’m ready. For now it’s just the open road.