Post #2. Leaving VT: Why I Took a Solo Road Trip Across the U.S.

Nearly a year after the coronavirus restrictions were first imposed, I felt like I had gone nowhere, accomplished nothing, and had no future prospects. I was still living at home with my parents—don’t get me wrong, they are the best—and felt my dreams being dashed after repeated career cancellations. I had recently received news that the wildlife research program I’d planned to do in Mongolia over the summer had been canceled for the second year in a row; the risks posed by travelling to a remote country while the virus ran rampant were too great. If events continued the way they had been, I would be left without wildlife job experience or any possibility of gaining some by the time I graduated in Spring 2022.

Despite the comfort I felt after staying in relative isolation for the past year—considering my introverted personality—I could see that wasting so much time waiting around for things to happen for me was nothing but detrimental to my success in the long term. I’d spent so much time anxiously waiting for official programs and jobs to happen, only to face the imminent call informing me of yet another disappointment, and more lost time. After dealing with this for over a year, I was fed up; it was time to take things into my own hands.

With only a few weeks of planning, I decided to defer the Spring 2021 semester and instead embark on a solo road trip of my own design. I would plan everything by myself and go where I wanted on my own time. Along the way, I’d network with wildlife professionals and photographers while gaining media and stories about the importance of nature in our world. Finally, I was seizing the reins and taking charge of my own project—there would be no more waiting around for me.

About a week before I left, I went to my family’s camp near Rangeley, Maine. The cabin sits in such a remote location that we have to park alongside the road and snowmobile the rest of the way in during the winter. For this particular trip, our cabin was the only one occupied on the entire lake—it was just us and the unrelenting snow. One night as I stood outside taking photos of the stars, the only noise around me was that of the howling wind as it raced through the trees. I think this may have been the moment that it really set in what I was about to do; I would be alone in the middle of nowhere for much of the time I would spend out west. Yet, I was exhilarated rather than afraid—I could hardly wait for the adventure lying ahead.

The day to leave arrived one chilly morning in the last week of February. I loaded my car with only the essentials—4 pairs of different types of skis in the roof box, of course—and set up the backseat with a camping mattress and winter sleeping bag in preparation for the many nights that would be spent car camping. With my car loaded up to the brim and my prized possession—my Canon EOS R camera with a 600mm wildlife lens—taking up the entire passenger seat, I was ready to leave.

As I rolled down the rocky driveway in my trusty Subaru Crosstrek, the home I’d been confined to for much of the past year receded in the rearview mirror. At that moment, I could only begin to imagine the adventures lying in wait for me.