Where Have You Gone When You’ve Needed To Go?
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
In the famous opening of Moby Dick, Ishmael explains how he deals with existential crises by dropping everything and going on a long voyage. Instead of coffin shopping, he goes to sea, and he adds that almost everyone feels the same way.
So tell us, Deadsplintervoyagers, do you feel the same urge when there is a damp, drizzly November in your soul? Maybe not enlisting on a whaling expedition driven by a madman, but have you ever taken four days to hitchhike from Saginaw and caught a Greyhound in Pittsburgh?
When I was a kid, my family drove cross country more than once, visiting multiple cities and National Parks, I think in part because my parents just wanted to be in a different place. And in my early 20s I made a big hole in my limited savings and took a trip to Greece and Turkey, basically the cheapest far away destination I could come up with, looking for a change from anything I’d ever seen before.
So what about you? Have you ever gone on a backpacking trip to get away from phones and computers? Gotten weary of work, called in sick and made a trip to a megamall where you shopped for shoes and then sat in the foodcourt all day? Piled into a car and just gone West? Run away from home when you were six and walked all the way to your friend’s house?
Share any trip you may have taken, no matter how short or long, for “driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation,” as Melville put it.
I’ve never been big on calling out sick to work. Generally I have enough vacation time that I end up using that.
What I used to do, back in ancient times, when I needed time off from school, was skip school. I started doing it in middle school. I’d just walk to the bus stop and keep walking, returning home after my parents went to work. I could flawlessly forge my mother’s handwriting, and all we had to do back in antiquity was bring a note from your parent the next day.
In high school all my siblings and I were allowed to drive an old beat up Plymouth to school (sequentially — we all weren’t in high school at the same time), so mental health days involved driving to the beach instead of school. Sometimes I’d pick up my friends and take them too. The only “tricky” part was keeping swimsuits and towels in the car. But honestly, my parents weren’t stupid. As long as my grades stayed up, they really didn’t care.
The St Louis Zoo is free and is only closed on Christmas Day and New Years Day. Typically when I need a day away from work when I’m not actually sick, that’s my go-to place.
When I was working for an airline in Hawaii, I fell in love with a girl from Seattle. I would fly to see her on weekends (I had a 4 on 3 off schedule). One weekend when all the flights were full she was very upset that I couldn’t get there to see her. I told her the closest I could get was LA, so she grabbed a friend and drove down to LA while I caught a flight. They picked me up and we drove back to Seattle nonstop and I was supposed to return on Sunday but ended up calling in sick and going home a few days later. Flying standby while your calling in sick from work is severely frowned on so I had to get a doctors note. That was one of the stupidest things I did for supposed love (really just lust). She ended up moving in with me in Hawaii for awhile and is the reason I moved to WA but luckily not the person I am with today.
Airlines have a reputation for being pretty mediocre employers, but I would bet the travel benefits are nice. Although the Kaley Cuoco series makes me rethink that idea.
I used to do a lot of canoeing. Spending the day paddling in the sun drinking beer, stopping to cool off at swimming hole. Setting up camp on an island or bank of a creek, cooking dinner over the fire. Everything wrong would just melt away.
Not on this river I’m sure.
Lol, no but we were once shot at on a river by people we couldn’t see. It was very scary.
Oh damn.
I’ve heard about places where the rivers were automatically public rights of way, but the banks were private property. Most property owners shrugged off the occasional boater who pulled up to eat a sandwich or take a leak, but here and there would be private property owners who regularly freaked about anyone putting a toe on their land. They’d be waiting with dogs or guns, all because some high school kid 20 years earlier left a mess.
When I was 16 I hitchhiked from Chicago to Cleveland to see Iggy Pop at the Agora Ballroom with my friend Tom.
Did your parents know? I kind of thought hitchhiking was frowned on since the 50s.
Oh no. We told our parents we were staying at the other’s house for the weekend. My folks would have killed me.
I’m glad to know the cover story didn’t crack. Iggy Pop was supposed to be lava hot back in the day.
I remember feeling rather depressed after the buzzkill that was New Year’s Day 2000, so a bit more than a month later, I blew off two final exams (one of which, inexplicably, I later even passed) and took the train down to Madrid for a 10-day trip to cheer myself up. I could already feel the malaise just melting away as I walked through the Retiro that first day. I spent my days in and out of museums and the hipster mall down the street and taking impromptu side-trips to nearby cities (including, ever so briefly, the one where I spent a week when I went back last year) and my nights exploring the bars, seeing movies (Dogma, American Beauty) and, eventually, sleeping in a $15 room with a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling and a shower in the opposite corner from the bed. (I ended up opting for the one in the full bathroom down the hall.)
I remember looking back on it and thinking that it was probably just about the best (quantifiable) time that I had that whole year, although I’m sure that a fair amount of the romanticizing came from being young and free of much experience — or cash — under my belt. But I can say that I started feeling much more at home in Spain around that time, and it certainly set the stage for much of what came later. And that feeling that I got walking through the Retiro is something that I’ve never experienced again — neither in any other city I’ve visited, nor retracing my steps in Madrid itself.
Wow. I really would like to spend a couple-three weeks wandering around Spain someday eating jamon and tortillas and drinking wine and sherry.
All my trip travel like flying etc are planned but when I get there I wing it. It’s just my nature really as I find if you prepare then fewer things go wrong.
Yeah, I’m pretty boring.
My supervisor didn’t come near me or harass me like he normally does today. Gee, I wonder why? I only had a meeting with HR the day before.
I know HR isn’t my friend more fiend, but once in a while it can be handy club to use on unsuspecting management who think they have all the power.
I hope the moron gets the message and backs the fuck off or I will make things worse for him.
I’ve never done any trip spur-of-the-moment. Because of work, I’ve had to really plan ahead and have a good idea of where/what I’m doing when that time comes. I’m good at building in down-time: it’s not a wall-to-wall schedule day after day for me. Plenty of time for cafes/bars, daydreaming, and people-watching on my trips.
I’m not much of a “trip” taker, that tends to take executive function skills that I just can’t muster on my own.
It’s not that I’m not *capable* of doing the trip–it’s more that I just don’t *think* of it, so don’t take them.
What i do tend to do, is to just take off on an impromptu *wander,* somewhere nearby, when I need a break. Just wandering around, driving on “the back roads,” or (outside of hunting season!), finding a bit of woodsy-space or a state/county/city park, and wandering about in the woods *there,* following the deer trails, looking to see what kinds of animals live there by seeing what types of tracks & other signs i can find, and sussing out what sorts of things could be foraged in that spot.
It’s relaxing & lets my mind wander, but the looking for animal signs & forage-y stuff is *also* juuuuust enough “activity” to relax my ADHD-ness, by giving my brain *something* to hyperfocus onto. It’s *relaxing* being out by yourself in the woods/in an oak savanna, but finding animal tracks is *also* tricky, when there hasn’t been much rain–so it takes a decent amount of focus–and *that* burn of mental energy is often something I need, when I “need a wander.”
We don’t have any major predators, in the parts of the state where I’ve lived. There *is* an occasional Cougar who’ll wander through, up home. And down here in the MSP-metro area, we’ll have the occasional Black Bear sighting–but I read the news allll the time, so just avoid the watch areas, if there’s an issue. Otherwise, it’s typically safe. And honestly? I’m *usually* the only one out wandering in those parts, when I *do* go out on a wander, anyway.😉