By Lucas Hauser | Staff Writer
Everybody has that feeling. Most people have that feeling. Many of you know what I am talking about. Some of you don’t know what I’m talking about. Either way, it’s probably worthwhile to keep reading to clear everything up.
So much time is spent cooped up indoors, basking only in the sterilized and artificial fluorescent light and smelling only the faint scent of pine needles from the electric air freshener. You put a gorgeous landscape photograph as your desktop background, which you do ostensibly because it’s pretty, but subliminally the desire to ESCAPE is starting to boil over. Routines are predictable and make life easy, but boy are they boring. The same old cycle of seeing exactly the same buildings, people, and things can drive any person insane after too long. Monotony has a compounding effect, weighing down on your spirit exponentially more as you become aware of it, and it drags on for longer. When it finally hits you like an existentialist revelation (no, you’re not that brilliant, don’t flatter yourself; this isn’t that unique of an idea), it all makes sense once again and the path forward is clear. To break the system and take a break from complacency and blandness, you must go. Exactly where is not the point, but it is the act of going somewhere and somewhere far away and reserved that is what you’re getting at here. The solution is simple: fight the wanderlust and escape into the wilderness for a retreat from the modern world. I, too, went through this agonizing process of dissatisfaction and discovery not that long ago. Enough was enough. I didn’t care what my boss had to say. I had to go. I had to go NOW. So, I went.
Now, I must disclose that I have rampant dendrophobia (fear of trees), and my 1985 pickup wasn’t in the prime of its lifespan. Also, I had to plead to my boss for enough money to make the journey (telling the truth isn’t cheap you know). I also had pneumonia at the time and unbearably painful shin splints. Now that I have disclosed those limiting features, let me tell you what I did about them: nothing. No excuses. No hindrances. No procrastination. To emotionally recharge, I had to charge head-first against my problems and into the wild. And so, I was off, racing down the highway at an impressive 45 mph for the truck I was driving. Where to? I had no clue at the start of my expedition. That was what made it all so exhilarating and glorious.
As the euphoria of the first twenty seconds or so wore off, I decided that it was time to blast some wholesome music to get me in the spirit. Typical pop music (e.g. Ed Sheeran, Cardi B, Rihanna, etc.) was obviously too mainstream and carried too much of an association with my typical dreary days from which I so desperately wanted to escape. While it may be extreme for some, death metal (like Guns N’ Roses, Nickelback, and Imagine Dragons) really tickled that emotional itch as I set off to find myself and lose myself to the glorious beauty of nature. Then, I listened to my favorite cooking podcast. Who doesn’t like to learn how to cook?
So, there I was, several hours later, hundreds of miles from home and finally unchained from the tedium of my everyday life. At this point, I knew I needed some direction. Living on the edge and driving down the highway for hours without turning was probably swinging the pendulum too much in the other way. In order to truly replenish my spirit, I needed some control, some ground rules. I would not stop until I had gotten to my destination for any reason, and I had chosen where I was going: Badlands National Park.
“Why Badlands?” you might ask. “Why not?” I reply. Although seriously, it’s one of the best and most underrated national parks. As a country of nature-lovers (generally), we really need to have a conversation about how we value certain public properties differently and the effects thereof. It’s not just Zion National Park and Yosemite; there are so many amazing places reserved for our enjoyment! Thanks to the Illuminati (let’s face it, do you really think the government did this on their own?), you have this amazing luxury at your disposal, just like I did on this fateful soul-searching adventure. The consequences of superficial park favoritism are very real. That’s why, with my enormous clout, I decided to make a statement (and a good choice anyways) and go to Badlands National Park, which I believe is in one of the Dakotas (Idaho?). Don’t quote me on that. While yes, I may have been there, that doesn’t preclude me from still having no idea where I was. It’s not unreasonable to understand why I am unsure.
Regardless of the trivial geographic minutiae, I had found a place where I could be free. Upon arrival (full disclosure-- my standards were a little too aspirational and I stopped over 30 times for food, gas (truck), and hotels (gotta get those 14 hours of sleep)), I passed the inviting sign that marked the entrance to the park, and I was beaming with joy. I was here. I had done it. This was the moment. I was free. Nothing from before mattered. The niceties of everyday life meant nothing here, and I was liberated from the chains of monotony. I drove to the Visitor’s Center parking lot and sat in my car, wowing at the accomplishment I had achieved and the intensity of the moment. And there I stayed. For a while. Like a few hours a while. To tell you the truth, I valued that window of time more than anything else on this voyage. I got some good thinking, real good thinking, done. Existentialist revelations came in by the second, and I had controlled my personal destiny. I had found oneness with the soul of the world. All right there in the seat of my truck while I took a quality nap.
At this point, any further trekking could only hinder the sweet bliss I experienced. Wisely, I decided that this was enough. Without even ever leaving my car, I’d shaken the wanderlust and experienced nature and the world. Remember, it’s the idea that I hypothetically could have totally immersed myself in the wild that is important. Rejuvenated and eager to return to the world I knew, I stopped quickly at the local McDonald’s, and then I blazed down the highway like a lightning bolt. Although I obviously wasn’t a lightning bolt. I was just driving as fast as I could in my less-than-perfect automobile. Please don’t think that I made the implication that I was literally a lightning bolt. I can see how one would come to that conclusion from the sentence I wrote, but please don’t do that. You would then base your understanding off of a misinterpretation, and that simple-minded approach could lead to serious flaws and understanding that would cause you to spread misinformation anytime you tried to share your new trove of “knowledge.” Don’t do that to our society. Accept the fact that I used a metaphor (which is LEGAL in most states) and get on with it, idiot.
At a far quicker pace than the first leg of my journey, I returned to my nature-less home revived and ready to take on the world. Nothing could get to me anymore. With the refreshment of nature, my mind was cleared. I reaped the benefits of that trip.
However, I would also like to bring up the very important point that I was also thrilled to be back home and engage in the daily routine which I had loathed with great passion only days before. The old adage is true: There’s no place like home. After such a wild experience where everything was new, nothing was controlled, and my fate was held by the mercy of the beasts of the night, I treasured that everything was the same as before. It was all familiar and comfortable. I really enjoyed my adventure, but maybe the most valuable aspect was the gained appreciation I now have for my everyday life. I no longer despise it and want to run away from it all; I embrace every minute of it and never consider interacting with nature ever again.
There you have it, folks. That’s how I fought wanderlust and reconnected with the world. I think Earth would be much better off if everyone was like me and did what I did. Regardless, I’m not doing anything ever like that again.
Yup. I probably was a little too adventurous on this one. To be honest, I’m EXTRAORDINARILY HAPPY to be back home where I don’t have to be so immersed in the wild. What does that even mean, anyways? I think my local Denny’s is pretty wild. You should meet the manager.
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