Roamsteading
Do you remember that age old expression “You can take the homesteader out of the homestead, but you can’t take the homestead out of the homesteader?”
No? Geez. Where have you guys been?
Recently, I had the opportunity to go on an work trip to Ketchikan, AK. It took some finagling, but somehow we were able to work it out so that my wife could accompany me. That was no small miracle. Looking back on it, we realized that it was the most consecutive time that we’ve spent together alone (without the kids) in over 25 years. The experience was refreshing and enlightening on so many levels. The peace. The quiet. The slower pace of working and living. It was a real eye opener. We found that we still enjoy each other’s company every bit as much as we did when we were dating as teenagers. We knew this, I think, but it was nice to have a little time to acknowledge it. Off the record, we did miss our brood.
So, what did we do to stay busy?
(Don’t worry kids! I’’m not going there this time, but come winter solstice I’ll be sure to recount the story of each of the times that I impregnated your mother. It was beautiful.)
While we were there, we stayed in two different places. Each of them had two TVs. None of them even got turned on once. For us, nature and exploration is way more entertaining and gratifying.
Over the years, most of our vacations, trips and leisure activities have been centered around what I would consider to be homesteading activities Mobile homesteading? Roamsteading? If we leave the homestead, part of it leaves with us. When we go places, we try not to go as tourists and do the touristy things. We try to blend, learn the local ways and do the local things. We think of where we are as home, even if it’s just for a short time. Our Alaska experience was a prime example. I was there to work, but there was plenty of downtime.
The first few days were pre-orientation, so we were totally free. What does one do in Ketchikan in the summer? We chartered a boat and tried our hands at salmon and halibut fishing. It was a blast. Captain Drew got us to the right spots and we caught enough for the two of us to eat fish every day during the trip. Homemade sashimi and grilled salmon and halibut were our favorites. As far as the sashimi goes, the silver (coho) salmon was better than the chum in terms of texture, but both were delicious. In order to make them safe for raw consumption, we froze them for a week to kill parasites. That was a first for us.
Once work started, I had to make sure to stay where I had cell phone reception. This restriction wasn’t actually much of a restriction at all, as it left us free to roam pretty much around the whole island between clinics, rounding, consults and operations. This blew my mind. For me, my entire professional work experience has been this balls-to-the-wall, all-consuming force where when you work, you do nothing else, because there is no time to do much of anything else. If you do get a minute to breathe, you have to decide between going to the bathroom or taking a power nap. I was amazed to see that there is in fact another way.
While I was covering call, we were also able to take long walks, try our hands at fishing from the shore, watch the eagles and bears and whales, learn about and pick the local berries that were in season, and enjoy dozens of different sunsets. We ate at some of the local restaurants, but mostly we prepared meals at our cabin.
We discovered red elderberries, salmon berries, thimble berries and red huckleberries. Salmon berries, raspberries, red huckleberries, and huckleberries were coming into season, so in our true forager’s spirit, we picked what we could and made jelly and jam to bring home. The jellies and jams that we made and a few thrift store finds were the only souvenirs that we brought home other than the memories and the fresh perspective.
Time is our most important commodity and we are accountable for how we chose to spend it. I challenge you to continually strive to become the master of your own time. and experience true freedom. Find your best life. It’s out there. You just need to be bold enough to claim it.
Are you a roamsteader?
Have you ever been boondocking?
Can you feel at home away from home?
