When I was a kid my family would take me and my brothers on lots of trips, and some of my strongest memories are from the river trips. We’d load up our van full of gear, strap one or two canoes onto the roof rack, and drive off somewhere remote to find a river. The canoes would be hauled into the water and loaded with camping gear, food, and supplies. We’d strap on life jackets and climb into the boat, and my Dad would push us away from the shore, jump in, and then paddle us into the current.
The moment we’d sever our connection with the land was always quietly momentous to me. It was the moment we started to float. Everything we needed was in the canoe and we could stop anywhere, whenever we wanted, or continue on for hours at a time. We were a floating spaceship that contained all that we needed to survive. Whenever we stopped at a sandbar or river bank, we could create a village of tents and shelters, with hot food and drinks and maybe a fire, that could survive rain and windstorms with ease. The next day we would pack our village back into the canoes and push off into the river again. Back into the current. Back into the freedom of choice of where to go and what to do. Back to just floating.
The feeling of floating builds up over time. It starts small and grows into a habit over the days and eventually into the Fact that meandering down the river each day was the most natural thing in the world; who would want to camp in one site very long when there was so much to see further down the river? Floating meant freedom and exploration and the future.
Floating is fundamentally a feeling of travel. Pushing off into the unknown with the expectation or hope that it’ll all work out alright. Backpacking, whether through the woods, Europe, or India, captures much of it. Whether you sleep in a tent or a hostel, wandering through cities and mountains for long enough convinces you that you could go anywhere and do anything, given enough time, food, and money.
In each case the medium of travel defines the experience of floating. Backpacking requires public transportation or a trail, and river trips require a river. The most American medium of adventure is of course the wide open road. In America, we take road trips.
You load your car full of gear, food, and supplies. You strap yourself into your seat, turn the ignition, and drive away from your house, into the current of a great American highway. Everything you need is in the car, and you can stop anywhere, whenever you want, or continue for hours at a time. You become a floating spaceship that contains all that you need to survive. Each day you stay in a hotel or camp you create a little home, but the next day you push off into the current of the highway again. Back to the freedom of choice of where to go and what to do. Back to that feeling that meandering down the road each day was the most natural thing in the world.
Back to just floating.