Absolute Freedom

I wholeheartedly reject the tyranny of the expected.

I have typed these words before. I have said them to friends and colleagues. They have hung in the air and existed on the web for anyone to find. They are a mission statement for my life. These words define so much of who I am, but I remain a creature of routine. The world expects certain things from me, and, more often than not, I oblige.

As I type these words, I do so as an engaged man, saving for a wedding, saving for a house, planning a honeymoon, working an 8 to 5 job. I have my hobbies. I have causes where I dedicate my free time. This life of mine looks like countless others. Perhaps I have tweaked the approach or pursued momentary diversions from the expected path, but I always find my way back. I do as I am expected, because there always seems to be some limitation to absolute freedom. Knowing this to be true, I still find myself willing to try. I see this perseverance building toward a culminating event in my future.

Before I explain what I mean, I would like to share four times in my life when I felt my next step was not set in stone. From there, I will fully explain how that freedom felt and why it ended.

Moving to Seattle

In early January 2011, I began a cross-country road trip from Oklahoma City to Seattle. Expecting terrible winter weather, I took a much longer route. Driving through Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California, and Oregon provided hours to think. Before me were thousands of miles of open road and the possibilities felt nearly endless. I thought of what would be waiting for me in Seattle. I wondered about my future home, job, friends, passions, and community. There was no way of knowing what the future held, and in that, I found a tremendous amount of freedom. I also realized at this moment I could deviate from the expected path. The world knew I was headed for Seattle, but Phoenix, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Portland all tempted me.

This sense of freedom ended because I followed my heart. Seattle had been calling since my childhood. I needed to see this through. This meant creating new routines, but I would have a new city to explore. Every day would find itself filled with discovery. This was more than enough for a little while.

Moving to Los Angeles

In August 2017, my car once again found itself on I-5, but now it was heading south toward Los Angeles. After six years in Seattle, my partner and I found ourselves in need of a new beginning. After months of conversation, we decided on LA. Breaking free of Washington, my mind once again wondered about the life awaiting me at the other end of the highway. The nerves that joined me on my journey to Seattle were quieter on this journey. This time around, I felt more accomplished and surer of myself. I knew the sense of discovery waiting for me. Like an addict chasing a high, I couldn’t wait to begin.

I relished every day spent in Los Angeles. If my story could have been duplicated and shared with my partner, we might still find ourselves in LA. Los Angeles was not equal in her blessings. The freedom I found in LA ended, because I love my partner and will do anything in the world to make him happy.

Beginning the Pacific Crest Trail

Six months into our Los Angeles story, it was apparent Brandon was not happy. To save our relationship and his mental health, I agreed to a long-distance relationship if I could remain in LA for a year and prepare for the Pacific Crest Trail. Without hesitation, Brandon agreed and supplied boundless support. On March 13th, 2020, I stood at the southern terminus of the Pacific Crest Trail. I knew six months of hiking was before me. I knew walking would become routine, but had no way of knowing the type of story I would write. Never in my life have I felt so free. I had spent a lifetime chasing this moment in time, and it was finally mine.

In a matter of days, it was all over. A once in a generation pandemic sent me home. Lost and confused, I sank into a deep depression. For the first time in my adult life, something outside of my control was determining my sense of freedom, and I hated it with every fiber of my being.

Driving Back to Seattle

Off the Pacific Crest Trail, I found myself back in Seattle. There was no work to be found and I could only think about hiking. My obsession would find its fix via the Colorado Trail, but I would leave that trail too. This time, a dissatisfied mind and heart would lead me home. Before heading back to Seattle, I spent a few weeks back in Oklahoma with my mom. A couple of months earlier, my dad finally lost his battle with cancer. As my mom settled into her new reality, I found an opportunity to pour my energy into someone else.

For three weeks, I thought about the journey before me. On a road trip back to Seattle, I would find a sense of freedom. The world would look brighter for a moment in time. From Oklahoma, I headed to the Devil’s Tower National Monument, then Grand Tetons National Park, Yosemite National Park, and Glacier National Park before heading back to Seattle. Once again, the open road provided countless hours to think, wonder, and dream. It was here that an idea was born, a culminating adventure.

Planning the Next Great Adventure

There is a theme developing here. Standing at the doorstep of absolute freedom has almost always found me staring at an open road or path stretching to some far-off destination. In these moments, the freedom I crave energized in ways I cannot explain. This sort of freedom is an itch I cannot ignore forever. All these experiences, taken together, are leading to a culminating event in my life. They are destiny and reveal how I would like to spend my final years on Earth.

Driving back to Seattle in 2020, an idea was born. For years, I have dreamed of visiting every national park in the United States. Without a doubt, this is the number one wish on my bucket list. Dreaming of ways to accomplish this goal led me to this plan.

Months ago, I started putting away money to finance this dream. With good luck and discipline, I should find myself the proud owner of a conversion van when I retire. I should also have enough money tucked away to travel around the country on extended road trips. My plan is to convert the van into something of a home away from home with a bed, sink, stove, and space to carry items I hold dear. With my new van, I hope to embark on a series of trips tackling my bucket list.

This trip is about more than checking items off a list. For me, it is about discovering the absolute best of America. In these shared spaces, I hope to reconnect with our best ideas, people who truly value these public lands, and the ribbons of highway connecting one story to the next. Of course, I want to document the experience. Envisioning the stories collected via the written word, my camera, and photographs excites me beyond belief. When the journey is through, I would love to put all the stories together in a multimedia experience and publish it for the world to enjoy. I want this to be my last act of creation and something I can leave behind.

In my life, I have been blessed to experience so much worth remembering. These experiences have shaped and molded me in ways I am still discovering. They have provided me with joy beyond measure. Knowing my days are numbered, I want to spend what remains chasing a few more of these experiences, all to once again taste absolute freedom.

Be good to each other,

Nathan