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Greg and I recently read The Vagabond’s Way by Rolf Potts. The book is a beautiful series of meditations on why we (the collective “we”) travel.
I am struck by so many things in the book, such as travel’s ability to maintain curiosity, keep us alive to the moment, and give us space to be truly ourselves and change a little along the way.
This quote from the book sticks with me: “The best travel experiences are simple. They can’t be planned. it’s just a feeling of something genuine-knowing you’re lucky to be in exactly that place at exactly the instant.” -Shannon Leone Fowler
Greg and I have had so many of these types of moments during our travels over the years.
Moments that existed on no itinerary. Moments that snuck up on us and made us feel the thrill of experience and the gift of a moment. It’s certainly one of the many reasons why we travel.
It’s also one of the many reasons West has been on the road since he was born. His curiosity comes naturally. I find mine most often on the road, but no matter how we come to it, it’s something I hope for our family for a lifetime.
We like to reminisce on our travels especially when we are really hankering to get out there. Reading The Vagabond’s Way led to a fun conversation about unplanned travel moments where we felt really lucky to be exactly where we were.
These moments have been plentiful. Many of them on roadtrips, where we can follow whims to take detours that look interesting and stop for coffee in seemingly the middle of nowhere. Many of them have been in the Utah desert, where we veer off trails down canyons and wander.
One day we always come back to… A day with no agenda in Porto, Portugal. A day we spent wandering alley ways covered in blue Portuguese tile, stopping to drink a glass of port in almost every hole in the wall we came to. Ultimately, we ended up in this beautiful garden sipping yet more wine, which felt like a secret, even if it only felt that way to us, because we found it by chance and it was perfect.
Another of these days happened recently in Glacier National Park. We were stymied at the top of Logan Pass as we drove in circles looking for a parking place, but to no avail. People were everywhere. It was hard to see the mountains beyond the crowds.
It was the type of travel we swear to avoid. Nature as a commodity. So we drove back down the pass and parked in a nondescript pull out on the side of the road and walked down to the river to eat lunch.
As we wandered the banks of the river, we left everything behind, the cars, the people. The sharp mountains of Glacier began to reveal themselves on all sides of us. And I thought, “I see you Glacier. I really do. And you are extraordinary.”
West played in the river and with the rocks. It was the kind of moment that makes a trip. Guidebooks don’t contain those moments and we are grateful for every one of them.