Throwing pinecones at trees, getting jumping cholla bits stuck on my
shoes, covering my pants with weird plant bits by trudging through tall
grass, backpacking into the desert with like a dozen pounds of water,
sleeping in my car either 50 miles from the nearest human settlement or
in a truck stop parking lot...I'm not going to endorse my way of
traveling as a sane option for anyone else but me, but personally I'd
rather freeze and/or roast in the weather instead of saying hotels are
too expensive for me to travel. This is a retropsective of one of the
most chaotic periods of my life, where I wasn't afraid to abandon
society and embrace the unknown of not knowing exactly where I will
sleep that night or where the paths will lead.